Note: It occurs to me after writing this that it quickly dissolves into a bitter rant toward the end. Sorry about that. I needed to vent. No offense was meant to anyone.
I’ve always hesitated to say, “I have depression” because that’s a serious self-diagnosis there. I spent most of high school dealing with idiotic friends who wanted something to be wrong with them. They wanted depression, schizophrenia, mono… you know, the things all the cool cats had. So even though it’s been becoming plain as day lately that I am depressed and it is a problem, I figured so long as I wasn’t tying a noose around my neck I could be stubborn and just cry in solitude.
It’s not a constant thing. I can be fine for a few days and then someone will ask me about college or how my sugars are doing. This sets off this awful chain reaction where I will proceed to sit somewhere and cry as I go over every single flaw I have ever had and will possibly have in the future. I think the record is a week where I did nothing but lie in bed and cry. That was the same week my ‘best friend’ told me, “You’re always having some kind of ‘mental break down’. Just grow up. I shouldn’t have to deal with this ■■■■.” Which was weird, because I hadn’t spoken to her that entire week. But it did teach me that people don’t want to hear about my problems and I should either keep it to myself, or in my writing. Now she gets mad at me because I’m super vague and don’t talk to her enough. You just can’t win with some people.
I mentioned all this to my doctor. The crying and the near psychotic mood swings and all that. I assume he associated this with my under active thyroid. Maybe he doesn’t believe it’s related to my diabetes at all. I’m not sure. He’s kind of a weird guy. I think he might be some kind of genius. He has a tendency to explain everything and nothing all at once. That sounds strange but considering I usually leave his office satisfied with the treatment he’s set up for me, I won’t complain.
I’d really love a hug or something right now. This sounds terribly juvenile, but it would be amazing to have one real life friend who understands me. At least a little bit. My family is unsupportive to the point where it’s somewhat comical even though they try, and while I love my friends they’re in completely different worlds. I tried watching some videos from those You Can Do This project and they honestly just made me cry. Most of them are either people with type 1 or old people with type 2. How does that help me? At one point I was just sobbing and clicking through the videos rapidly. Whenever I’d hear, “Hello my name is ______ and I have type 1 diabetes” I’d go to the next one. This sounds awful, but type 1 diabetics make me feel fat and gross. I’m usually okay with being a nineteen year old type 2 diabetic, but whenever I meet a type 1 who’s like, “I’m skinny and can eat whatever I want because I’m awesome!” it immediately sends me into thoughts of how if I hadn’t been such a fat disgusting pig I wouldn’t have ‘given’ myself this disease.
I try to tell myself a few things:
- Type 1 diabetics struggle too.
- Practically everyone in my family has diabetes, and type 2 is more prevalent on my mother’s side (my father is a type 1). It was damn near inevitable.
The second one only calms me down up until the moment when I see my mom eating a carton of ice cream or something ridiculous and all I can think is, “Well come on. That’s just not fair.”
You know something. Every time a cure is mentioned, it’s for type 1 diabetics. I feel like I don’t even have hope for a cure now because of that. Would type 2’s get cured by default if type 1’s are cured? Probably not. I’ve seen a few people on this forum insisting that they’re two completely different diseases.
I try to tell myself the usual speech about how it’s not my fault, we’re all in this together, blah blah blah. But on nights like this where tears are pouring out of my eyes even though for the most part I feel relatively calm, rationality is no longer my strong point.
Healthy women have Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream to turn to in times of crisis. I can’t even eat an apple. Life is cruel sometimes.