Mounjaro Diary | Week 8: Wobbles, Wins & What Really Matters

Monday The Wobble Starts 🌀

Another week, another plot twist in my Mounjaro journey — except this time, it wasn’t my weight or my appetite. It was my thyroid.

I’ve had a multi-nodular goitre for years, sitting quietly in my neck without fuss. No swelling, no voice changes, no swallowing issues… until Saturday. I looked in the mirror and my neck had changed. Hours later, after a 5-hour stint in A&E, I learned what was happening:

💡 As the fat layers around my neck reduce, the gland has less cushioning — so it’s now pressing on my throat and vocal cords.

The old me would’ve gone full lone wolf — panicked, dragged my daughter with me, and tried to handle it all alone. This time, I reached out to my chosen family. I dropped her off safely. I allowed myself to be cared for.

💬 Support isn’t weakness. It’s strength, shared.

Baby Steps & Awareness 👣💪🏽

Managed 2 miles with Leslie on Miracle Miles on Wednesday, but at my own pace, my own rhythm, my own breath.

I still have that drive not to get stuck in a rut, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. For years, I was my own coach — pushing, pep-talking, powering through. But I’ve learned that even the most self-motivated people need someone in their corner. Mentors who care about you, not just your progress.

That’s where growth happens:

🔍 Knowing when to rest.

🚶🏽‍♀️ Knowing when to move.

🧭 Knowing why you’re doing either.

💬 Discipline is great but discernment is power.

The Hardest Goodbye

And then Thursday hit me harder than any scale or workout ever could.

I lost my first cousin, though “cousin” doesn’t cover it. She was my sister in every way that mattered. When my biological siblings left me scarred, she was the one who stayed. The one who made me feel seen, worthy, loved. My safe place.

We made plans like we had time. Like we had control. And then she was gone.

I cried hard when I found out. But grief does strange things to me. After so much hurt over the years, my tears don’t always come the way I expect. It feels pointless sometimes — as though crying won’t undo the loss. So I cry internally, in quiet moments, where nobody sees. My brain shuts down under stress. My words scatter. I sit in the silence of it.

Three Blows in One Week 🖤🕊️

They say bad news comes in threes. This week, I believe them.

1. First, the neck swelling.

2. Then came the call from Juniper: I’m suspended from continuing Mounjaro until my neck scan. After more research and some honest talks with myself, I’ve decided I won’t go back on it. Given my thyroid history, I’m choosing to continue this journey without it. And for the record, I didn’t start my weight loss on Mounjaro. I’d already begun by kicking my snacking habit and starting intermittent fasting. Mounjaro came later, and it helped in one big way: it crushed the sugar cravings that used to pull me off track. Lesson learnt: speak to your GP before starting any weight loss medication. Even the tiniest medical detail can be the difference between safe progress and a painful setback.

3. And then, the final blow — losing my first cousin, who was more like a sister to me. Her heart was pure light. To lose her is to lose a piece of my own.

This week wasn’t one to “power through” with quotes. It was one to feel in my bones, to stop, and to remember what matters most.

I’m ending Week 8 with my hand on my heart:

🙏🏽 Grateful for the weight I’ve shed — in body and in old coping habits.

🙏🏽 Grateful for the people I still get to love.

🙏🏽 Determined to keep going, even if the path has changed.