The other day I was reading someone else’s post and they seemed troubled by there diabetes. I had no reply for them to help because I agreed with the hopeless sentiment of what they were saying ,but I do know that success is physiological and you can’t give up hope no matter how hard it is or dark your vision becomes.
At work I teeter back and forth from optimisim and an inward hope that I die at work so my loved ones can collect the insurance payout and I will be spared a bleak future.
Knowing my concerns and doubts I continue to move forward. I know I don’t have to be perfect, all l have to do is try.
"It may get worse before it gets better . But it will get better. "
Well, I felt pretty bleak and hopeless for the first few months after diagnosis. Depression is as good a word as any. However, a year later I’m feeling far more confident. I have all kinds of other stuff to be worried about, but if I’ve learned anything over the last year it’s that my future doesn’t have to be bleak because of diabetes.
FWIW, I have never felt true depression over my diabetes. At most, maybe some wistfulness because I was diagnosed @ 19, so I had almost two decades with a fully functioning pancreas.
I tend to see my chronic condition as a part of me that I have to accept. It’s a bit like having to wear glasses, wear clothing, comb my hair, shave my face, brush my teeth, etc, etc. Sure the consequences of not doing those things are relatively minor by comparison, but they must be done on a constant, regular basis.
It’s a frustrating medical problem. Give yourself a break.
It does get more difficult as you age, but what doesn’t. I’ve been at this over 50 years. Depression, most call it burn out, is always around. Just keep working towards being ok. It takes extraordinary strength. There are good and bad, happy and sad, as well as days you just wonder what’s happening.
It’s all about education, habits and the ability to just say “stuff happens.”
The truth for me was that I did okay for the first six months, but you suddenly realize, “this is my life now.” I have been best served by expecting it to affect me psychologically. The secret is to acknowledge it sucks and give yourself permission to grieve.
Those who don’t have a chronic disease have a hard time understanding how draining it can be: we’re on call 24/7/365. My biggest lesson for dealing with this is letting yesterday go. I can’t do anything about what happened yesterday. I can do something about TODAY, though!
Very well said, I seem to come to this realization on a regular basis, You never completely have a normal life but you learn to live with it or you drive yourself in deep depression.
I have been T1D since I was 8 yr. old. I am now 71 yr. old. My life has definitely NOT been bleak or depressing. I completed college and went on the earn two masters degrees. I have had successful careers in social work, teaching at the college level and as a pastor. I have been married for 49 years and have two grown children. I have traveled throughout the US and have biked with my wife in 23 states. The most difficult times in my life have not been due to diabetes but because of family or job issues. I have always looked at my diabetes routine (testing and dosing, etc) as something I had to do but then could go on to live my life like anyone else. We have to remember, everyone has some type of difficulty/suffering in life - some more some less - the big question is how we deal with it. There are lots of stories about people who have “handicaps” but do lead full, productive lives.
Any chronic condition is life changing and can be very depressing. Diabetes, I feel, is a disease that just sets one up for failure. It just never seems to play nice or fairly. What works today might not work tomorrow. I have been in this battle and I feel it’s battle for almost 47 years now. I don’t like it but I do it and I do it everyday.
Unfortunately for many depression and diabetes goes hand in hand. I probably suffered with depression for about 20 years. I was never to the point where I stopped my daily care but I would get up, get the kids ready and off to school and if not working, crawl back into to bed. I would sleep all day and still be able to sleep all night. I always did what I needed to do but felt like I was in this balck bottomless pit that I couldn’t climb out of.
I never had “burnout” as I did everything I needed to do for my diabetes but wow what a battle. For me it felt like I had to or all the horrible things they told us would happen, would happen.
Very happy to say, none of it has happened and I continue to fight the fight. Attitude is very important for a chronic condition and you need to find what your attitude will look like. While I tend to have a glass half empty feel, it works for me. Find your glass and make it work for you. It is a challenging disease and doesn’t always play nice but I feel you can make it work for yourself. You will find that place you need to be for your treatment plan. And remember what works for me might not work for you. Don’t beat yourself trying to be like everyone else. We are all our own experiment everyday. Good luck!
I see diabetes as a large challenge, a game that requires knowledge, experience, curiosity, and tenacity if you hope to win. I played this game half-heartedly for decades and finally got down to serious business five years ago. None of us invited diabetes into our lives. How we play this game, however, determines to a large extent how we feel about diabetes.
I see diabetes as a mortal enemy and I will do my damnedest to outwit, outwork, and outmaneuver diabetes whenever I can. I review my diabetes statistics everyday and take pleasure in turning these numbers into the ones I want. That may seem like a weird emotional adaptation to a chronic illness, but it works for me.
When I’m kicking @ss and taking names in the diabetes game, I feel better physically and emotionally. For me, winning at this self-imposed game delivers the energy to sustain me for the long game. I find winning is the best antidote for the diabetes blues. Who wants to play any game you suck at?
I am going to be brutally honest. I was not diagnosed with T1 diabetes until I was 42, after two pregnancies with gestational diabetes. So, it’s a bit different when you have lived about half your life without it than when you’ve lived most of your life with it. Yes, it IS depressing. It IS tiring. Worst of all, is the fact that it is an invisible disease, and people don’t GET that you have it, and you are constantly having to advocate for yourself to the freakin’ WORLD that you can’t just take some pill and make everyone feel relieved that they don’t have to be clueless and uncomfortable watching you look insane trying to manage a disease they can’t get their brains around. And yes, I HAVE the kinds of thoughts like, if I just dropped dead now, I could finally rest in peace.
That being said, I have a lot of positive things in my life to keep my fight up. I have a fantastic family, two children I’d go through all this again to have, I want very much to at least live till they leave the nest and see them comfortably in action, even if I don’t survive to grandmahood (I had them later in my life). I have a growing career as an artist, and I still have a lot to say before I kick the bucket. The world is so interesting, there is so much beauty in it but also so much pathos, so much to think about, so much to act on, and even in my small circle the opportunity to make my time here worthwhile to others and not just myself. I have a lot to learn and a lot to contribute. So, having this disease forces me to fight harder for that, and it focuses me and makes me go for things which in my healthier, lazier days, I would have blissfully watched pass by. And last, there are many fundamental things in life which you don’t get to choose, and in that, way, I’m like any other person, so you know, you work with the hand you’re dealt with, you make lemonade out of lemons, it’s your personal challenge and you own it.
And that’s how I approach being a T1 diabetic starting in middle age.
Not only is diabetes invisible to the outside world, even when some people become aware that you’re a diabetic, it’s only the one-in-a-thousand person who gets it.
I travel through my daily life with a hypo-alert service dog. People see me on the street, physically able and obviously sighted. They often give me a puzzled look and ask about my dog’s service. I keep it simple since I have no expectation that they’ll really understand diabetes. Occasionally I’ll detect skepticism that diabetes could ever justify a service dog. Yikes.
It’s why diabetes peer support groups can help. Only other tribe members can read your comments and bring all the correct context and derive the actual meaning.
Keep up the good fight, @caprifoglio! You have a lot yet to add to this world.
I think the daily maintenance of our condition is a daily challenge but I do it without obsessive extremes being the absolute course of action.
Dietcanbedifficult , family always offers me food that’s not in my diet, and cravings for simple things like rice or crackers. Lol.
I realize sometimes it’s best to step back from dark emotions and keep my mind objective because sometimes it’s just mood swings brought on by a low bg
But some days it seems very real
I just don’t think it’s healthy being diabetic or not feeling sorry for myself and or becoming a victim of my emotions.
And on those dark days where I’m knee deep in that odious mire that constitutes my inability to cope with my disease and I can’t see a victory in sight I still fight the good fight despite whatever concession I make to get through that day.
Depression IS very real. I have it. It’s a medical condition like any other, and like diabetes, it is invisible. If I were to treat it as “seems” I would probably not be in the best situation right now, worse if I had the guts to do what men do better than women, which is that they are statistically more successful in eliminating themselves from the planet.
So in the case of having clinical conditions for both, you really have to treat both seriously. That is, with both medication and therapy. My advice if you are diabetic is to keep a close watch on that - take care of all chemical dysfunctions in your body and take them all seriously. And you will be able to strike a balance with that support.
Really, you have to have the will to live in spite of your circumstances, and take good care of yourself with the support of the medical community, and anyone else in your life who is willing to be supportive without being judgmental and therefore unhelpful. As I mentioned above and as Terry4 affirms, finding people who you can lean on is a challenge, but it is absolutely necessary.
I know it’s real, I’ve faced it my whole life.
It’s there when you go to sleep and there when you awake and there to heckle you through oit the day.
I’ve suffered in silence for the most part and concealed it for the majority of my life and diabetes only intensifys the nature of it.
It’s ironic when you have everything and yet there is no pleasure in life.
I find channeling it through creativity helps to get it out
My art or writing seems to help and I try to laugh
Laughter is good therapy
I totally understand where you are. As an artist, yes - a therapeutic practice that we HAVE to do. And laughter, every day. Essential. HUG to you, John131. You are not alone in coping with these two conditions. We must support one another. Thankful for this forum.
