For ten years, it felt like I had an understanding with my thyroid. Living with Hypothyroidism meant I knew the rhythm—low energy, a slower metabolism, that lingering brain fog that no amount of coffee quite fixes. I had my routine, my medication, my expectations. Then something shifted. Not gradually in a way I could ignore, but in a way that made me stop and pay attention. My skin started to feel like it was burning to the touch, I was running to the bathroom constantly, sleep became almost impossible, and I’d wake up every hour with cramps in my calves, shins, and hamstrings. And underneath it all was this wired, restless feeling I didn’t recognize—one that started to look a lot like the opposite of what I’d been managing all these years, brushing up against symptoms of Hyperthyroidism.
What helped me make sense of it was understanding, in simple terms, what my thyroid actually does. It’s part of the Endocrine system—basically my body’s communication network for hormones. My thyroid produces Thyroxine and Triiodothyronine, which act like messengers telling my body how fast or slow to run. These hormones influence everything—my heart rate, how I use energy, digestion, body temperature, even my mood. And then there’s Thyroid-stimulating hormone, which comes from the brain and helps regulate the whole system. When it’s balanced, I feel like myself. When it’s not, it shows up everywhere—in ways that are hard to ignore. My mother had thyroid cancer when she was 51 years old, so I am more aware than most folks about the symptoms and when to see a doctor.
In my case, the shift wasn’t as dramatic as it first felt—it was more of a tipping point after years of stability. As I’ve gotten older, my body has changed. The dose of medication that worked for a decade may have quietly become too much. I also learned that conditions like Hashimoto’s thyroiditis can evolve over time, and in some cases even overlap with things like Graves’ disease. It reminded me that this isn’t a “set it and forget it” situation. My thyroid needs ongoing attention, small adjustments, and a willingness to notice when something feels off—even when it doesn’t match the symptoms I’m used to.
The turning point for me was listening to my body and actually following up with labs. A TSH test, along with T3 and T4 levels, helped explain what I was feeling. And thankfully, the fix wasn’t complicated—it came down to adjusting my dose of Levothyroxine and being more mindful about how I take it. The bigger realization—the real aha—was this: my thyroid health isn’t fixed, and that’s okay. It’s something I stay in conversation with over time. Paying attention, checking in, and making small changes has helped me move back toward that steadier place, where sleep comes easier, my body feels calmer, and I’m not fighting against it every hour of the night.
I hope this has helped you in any way.
Peace, out,
KJ Landis
Bibliography
American Thyroid Association. Thyroid Function Tests.
Garber, J. R., et al. Clinical Practice Guidelines for Hypothyroidism in Adults. Endocrine Practice.
Mayo Clinic Staff. Hypothyroidism and Hyperthyroidism Overview. Mayo Clinic.
National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases (NIDDK). Thyroid Disease Information.
Brent, Gregory A. Mechanisms of Thyroid Hormone Action. Journal of Clinical Investigation.
What helped me make sense of it was understanding, in simple terms, what my thyroid actually does. It’s part of the Endocrine system—basically my body’s communication network for hormones. My thyroid produces Thyroxine and Triiodothyronine, which act like messengers telling my body how fast or slow to run. These hormones influence everything—my heart rate, how I use energy, digestion, body temperature, even my mood. And then there’s Thyroid-stimulating hormone, which comes from the brain and helps regulate the whole system. When it’s balanced, I feel like myself. When it’s not, it shows up everywhere—in ways that are hard to ignore. My mother had thyroid cancer when she was 51 years old, so I am more aware than most folks about the symptoms and when to see a doctor.
In my case, the shift wasn’t as dramatic as it first felt—it was more of a tipping point after years of stability. As I’ve gotten older, my body has changed. The dose of medication that worked for a decade may have quietly become too much. I also learned that conditions like Hashimoto’s thyroiditis can evolve over time, and in some cases even overlap with things like Graves’ disease. It reminded me that this isn’t a “set it and forget it” situation. My thyroid needs ongoing attention, small adjustments, and a willingness to notice when something feels off—even when it doesn’t match the symptoms I’m used to.
The turning point for me was listening to my body and actually following up with labs. A TSH test, along with T3 and T4 levels, helped explain what I was feeling. And thankfully, the fix wasn’t complicated—it came down to adjusting my dose of Levothyroxine and being more mindful about how I take it. The bigger realization—the real aha—was this: my thyroid health isn’t fixed, and that’s okay. It’s something I stay in conversation with over time. Paying attention, checking in, and making small changes has helped me move back toward that steadier place, where sleep comes easier, my body feels calmer, and I’m not fighting against it every hour of the night.
I hope this has helped you in any way.
Peace, out,
KJ Landis
Bibliography
American Thyroid Association. Thyroid Function Tests.
Garber, J. R., et al. Clinical Practice Guidelines for Hypothyroidism in Adults. Endocrine Practice.
Mayo Clinic Staff. Hypothyroidism and Hyperthyroidism Overview. Mayo Clinic.
National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases (NIDDK). Thyroid Disease Information.
Brent, Gregory A. Mechanisms of Thyroid Hormone Action. Journal of Clinical Investigation.
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