Beyond “Just Anxiety”: My journey with hypothyroidism

By Sharon Bridgemohan

A student with long wavy black hair with red highlights stands in front of a brick wall, smiling slightly. THey are wearing a white dress shirt under a black blazer. A speech bubble superimposed on the photo reads "My Public Health Story" in orange and blue text.

One hundred eighty beats per minute. Shivering. Mental fog. Fatigue. This was my baseline for over a year, though I had no idea my body was working against me. March 14, 2023 was a normal day of spring break during my freshman year of college. I laid across the plush gray couch of my loft, watching the Korean drama “Crash Course in Romance”with my sister. As the night progressed, I suddenly felt my heart rate increasing. Looking down at my Apple Watch, 174 bpm glowed in a bright white font. I was watching a wholesome romance drama on a break from school; what would I be anxious about? Plus, it didn’t feel like anxiety.

At first, I brushed it off. I thought I was overthinking it, maybe I was anxious. Throughout my life I always viewed my anxiety as a part of who I was and was too afraid of bringing up mental health concerns with my parents. I did not think they would understand my concerns and would be dismissive rather than supportive. Growing up in an immigrant household, health was not viewed as a problem until it was too late. It was a financial burden that is not “necessary” unless something was visibly wrong. If you were not bleeding out or unconscious, you were “fine,” therefore feelings were pushed aside. Still, this felt different. My chest felt tight, but not in the way anxiety usually feels. My heart rate kept climbing.

I realized that if I wanted to see a change, I would have to stand up for myself and seek help. Over the next week, the episodes did not stop. I explained the situation to my mom, telling her that it was getting harder to endure. So, a week after spring break she took me to the ER. As the steady beep of monitors and bright hospital lights illuminated the room, I grew more nervous about the situation. I explained to the nurses and doctor that every day my heart rate would suddenly spike up and sustain without the feeling of anxiety. After numerous tests and blood draws, the doctor told me it was simply anxiety and released me without medication. I tried telling him that I naturally do get anxious but the feeling in my chest was different than how I usually felt. “Unfortunately, there is nothing more we could do, but if this is still a concern you should follow up with your PCP.” I felt small. I had finally gathered the courage to ask for help, but was sent home with an answer that did not feel right.

After returning home from the ER, I told my mom I wanted to meet with my pediatrician. A few days later, I sat in the familiar office of Dr. M, and unlike the rushed ER visit this appointment felt different from the moment she walked through the door. I explained why I went to the ER and why I still believed it was not anxiety. Dr. M made me feel heard and supported, order further testing to find an alternative explanation for my high heart rate.

More blood work. More waiting. After two more tests, my thyroid-stimulating hormone level came back abnormal. It was 20.86 mIU/L, with the normal reference range being 0.5-4.3 mIU/L. My thyroid was not functioning correctly, and I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease. When thyroid levels are out of balance it can lead to a racing heart, mood changes, fatigue, hot or cold intolerance, and other symptoms. I felt relieved — not because I wanted something to be wrong with me, but because someone offered to look deeper. For weeks I had questioned myself, thinking I was dramatic or maybe I was just overlooking what anxiety really is. The diagnosis brought treatment, but being heard brought me peace.

I started seeing an endocrinologist, who prescribed thyroid medication that brought my TSH level down while also reducing my heart rate. I had grown used to surviving in a body that felt like I was constantly on edge and truly did not realize how exhausted I was until I started feeling better.

While anxiety is a serious concern, it should never be a shortcut explanation for a problem without careful evaluation. Thyroid disorders affect about 20 million people in the U.S., but because symptoms overlap with mental health conditions, thyroid problems are often overlooked. About 60% of individuals with thyroid disease are unaware of their conditions and about one in eight women will develop a thyroid disorder during her lifetime. These numbers show why getting checked is so important. If left untreated, thyroid disorders could lead to worsening heart issues, infertility, cognitive impairment and other complications.

I am currently a college student on a pre-medical path, and it was this experience that shaped my hope to pursue endocrinology in the future. I hope to encourage my patients to speak up about their health issues and listen to their concerns to show that no one is alone with their problems. Physical and mental health deserve equal attention, and it is crucial to have open conversations about that with loved ones. I share this not to dwell on what went wrong, but as an invitation to trust yourself and know that someone out there will listen. 

Sharon Bridgemohan is a fourth-year biology major.

“My Public Health Story” essays originated from an assignment on public health storytelling for a public health messaging and dissemination course led by Gaia Zori, Ph.D., M.P.H., coordinator for the social and behavioral sciences and public health practice concentrations in the Master of Public Health program.