First of all, I'm not talking about self-destruction: Short-term pleasure paid for by a lifetime of pain. This is hedonism as an antidote for nihilist Nietzscheism. Instead of "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger ( I always envision the speaker stepping over bodies)," this brand of hedonism preaches that pleasure makes life better while pain makes it worse. Makes sense. The following are my rules for a more hedonistic lifestyle:
Eat only tasty food. Don't eat the yucky stuff.
If I'm reducing how many grams of carbohydrate I eat because I hate the rollercoaster, I don't want any wasted on yucky food. No boring food either. White rice is boring. Forget cheap candy. Give me one really good bonbon. Food should be a sensual pleasure, a delight for the eye as well as the palate. Red, yellow and orange peppers. Purple potatoes. Exotic grains. Berries. Fillets of salmon and beef. Experiment. Explore.
Life isn't a treadmill. Dance through life.
I won't waste time doing things I hate, surrounded by unhappy people punishing their bodies for imagined sins. The reason I am still in beginning ballet after half a century isn't so I can burn more calories or reduce my insulin resistance. It's because I need to be a dancer. I need to feel my body move through space. I need to believe I am who I imagine myself to be, if just for a moment. I dance in my kitchen, my living room, in taverns and clubs. Baryshnikov isn't calling.
Don't be afraid to be ridiculous. Life itself is absurd.
Don't put up with pain.
I use 33 gauge lancets and change them each time. My pen needles are 31 gauge, 3/16". Hated the giant needle of a pump's insertion set. Even if it was every 3 days, I dreaded putting it in. And when I get my blood drawn, the phlebotomist gets one try. No digging allowed. If they can't do it the first time, I'll come back another day and they can explain why the lab is late.
Diabetes is a chronic, exasperating disease. The media paints it, and any ensuing complications, as the result of the sins Gluttony and Sloth. Some diabetics buy into this and believe if they strive for righteousness and perfection, if they just don't eat, if they punish their bodies enough, if., if, if... In trying to escape hell, they construct it around themselves and thrust it on others.
My blood sugar is 72 at nearly midnight. A slice of Brie, some red pomegranate seeds should get me through the night. The uncertainty of waking tomorrow requires each day to be filled with pleasure. Sensual, delightful pleasure.