Ok, so I don’t mean to sound negative or anything because really I’m trying so hard to be positive through this whole thing…but I really needed to get this out.
I’ve been Type 1 for a month and a half now. I was diagnosed December 20th, right before Christmas (hell of a present, right?). I was pissed, but I dealt with it, because that’s all you can do. So, after spending 4 days in the hospital (3 of those in the ER) and my break home from college basically re-learning how to eat, and when, and “why me?” and insulin and all the things that come with the territory (in the midst of dealing with the death of my grandpa, mind you), it was time to go back up to school.
Lucky for me, I’m dealing with a full semester here. I’m just starting a very demanding program for my major (TV production), not to mention higher level classes and ice skating (it counts as a gym, so I thought why not?). Add on top of that all the carb-counting and other diabetes related things, and I feel like I’m about to lose it.
I hate having to inject before I eat. It’s usually not so bad because a lot of the time I just grab my food and go back to my room. My roommate, thankfully doesn’t have any issues with it. I explained everything to her and she understands, but it’s hard for me because we basically eat every meal together when our schedules allow and I don’t want to inconvenience her by asking her to take our food back to our room all the time. Now I have no problem injecting in public because I pretty much don’t give a crap what people think about me, but I still hate it. I guess really, this is why: I’m 4’11, 95 pounds soaking wet and basically I was the girl that could eat anything I wanted when I wanted. And believe me when I say I LOVE(d) food. I’m good at sticking to my new “diet” but I hate it because I have to have a routine. I can’t just go out and grab food with people whenever I want. And everyone seems to not get that. But I guess that’s whatever and there’s nothing I can do about that.
Then, there’s my mom. God love her, she’s been nothing but supportive throughout this entire process (or should I say nightmare), but support, no matter how nice it is, is not understanding. She’s always asking me if I feel “Ok” and if I zone out for more than 30 seconds she gets all panicky like I’m having a low. I feel like she thinks I’m this little fragile thing that’s gunna break, not to mention she’s a Nazi about food. “Should you be having that?” “Are you sure you can eat that now?” “Are you gunna count that as part of your snack?” Ugh! Just leave me alone!!! I’m almost 20 years old, if I can’t take care of myself by now, then I’m pretty much screwed for the real world.
Then there’s the whole tattoo debate. I have one on my wrist that I got before I was diagnosed. And now that I’m living with diabetes, I want to get a tattoo of the awareness ribbon on my back. Now, I’ve read that diabetics can get tattoos pretty much no problem, but she still doesn’t think it’s a good idea. I showed her the design I want and she was all “Well you really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, and money and blah blah blah.” Ok I get the money issue. I know I’m broke and tattoos really aren’t in the budget right now. But I also wasn’t planning on running out and getting it tomorrow. And, what the hell else am I supposed to be thinking about?! I mean school, duh that’s a give in. But I also need a distraction from my life. I don’t want to feel like I’m dwelling on the fact that I have diabetes. I know she didn’t mean it that way, but I know she’ll never really truly understand.
I feel like no one I know does. They can “support me” til they’re blue in the face, but they STILL won’t know what I’m going through. They won’t know what it’s like to feel like your body basically betrayed you. I’m not saying that I need sympathy from everyone and I’m not about to throw myself a pity party, but just once I would like to talk to someone who just gets it. Empathy instead of sympathy.
Yeah, so. I just needed to get that out.