I first want to say all of us on here be they Type-1,Type-2 a parent or partner to a diabetic are fighters, no make that warriors, a fighter stands alone a warrior knows when and how to help others and how others may help them. I have seen a lot of post recently from people who seem close to giving up, but they haven't. They came here to vent, to ask for help, to be heard. We are all fighting a physical and emotionally draining fight, but each day we are not in a coma, each day we are not in the hospital, each day we are alive is a day we win.
I seem at times to have one of those lives where I just keep having stuff thrown at me one challenge after another. Hell you could say it started at birth, my Apgar rating was 1 and the doctors first told my parents I would not make it, then I would be quadriplegic, then brain damaged. I beat all those odds. As an infant I was deathly allergic to milk and most formulas at the time. As a toddler I fractured my skull twice. I can look back and in general say well not a happy child I did have a happy childhood.
In school I was a misfit, I never fit in was picked on with few friends and well considered above average intelligence I struggled in school. Not because I couldn't do the work I just didn't care. Come about 8th grade I decided to quit trying to be one of those people everyone liked and just said "F*** em" . My grades improved and the harassment lessened, a few crazy rumors flew but those helped keep unwanted people at bay.
High School many things hit the fan, teenage angst set in. I found many others like myself, Metal Heads, Punks, Hardcore Kids, Oi boys. This is back in a time when if you had purple hair or a pair of docs you not only had to worry about getting your ■■■ kicked by other kids you had to worry about everyone. But we had one thing going for us you messed with one you had everyone else taking your back. The teen years also started a path of self destruction lots of drugs booze and fights. I didn't care if it gave me a rush I would do it. My family moved when I was 16 and shipped me off to military school, this just made things worse. As a new kid who wasn't around as a kid who wasn't around 10 months out of the year I had to prove myself that much more, "make a name for myself" and as a id who was locked up for 10 months at a time when I got out I had alot of energy to spend.
Military school taught me not only to start getting along with people I wouldn't bother talking to on the outside, but how to better get away with thing and not get caught. I went into business, smokes at the time could still be brought by people under age but you could not have them at school. Another student and I made good money selling smuggled smokes. I remember my Tact Officer(dorm sup) telling me I would never make honor role. Looked at him said "F*** you" and made no less then a 3.8 after that
After school I more or less too off didn't talk to my parents for close to a year moved back east and reconnected with old friends. While out there I discovered a new friend who quickly became my worst enemy Heroin. I was couch suffering and barely holding down a job with most of my money going to my addiction. I woke up in a hard way one day after having to get out of a house quick cause a friend had overdosed. I up my mind I wasn't going out like that and with the help of a friend spent the next month basically under the 24 hour watch of a biker who would since I had told him to not only break my nose if I went near anything but would break my legs/ribs whatever he felt like. After that month I was told to go back to my parents, that there was" to much junk in this town for me to be around". I headed back to the Midwest just in time to see smack hit that area and well I never have used again I have lost many more friends to it. Some I walked away from others I have seen laid to rest.
I made new friends and was still drinking to much, fighting and minor scraps with the law. It too me along time to harness my anger in a positive way. I cut back on the drinking and became a somewhat respectable person. I still have a little hooligan talking to me in the back of my head. I spent many years fighting that voice and still do to this day. It's the main reason I keep my anger in check today. I not only fight to stay in control, I stay in control.
I have taken to having T-1 they same way I have tried to loo at every blockade in my life get over it or smash it down. I refuse to be beat. Like the teenager I once was if it knocks me down get up wipe off/spit out the blood and say "f*** you". When I feel overwhelmed and beaten to still hold my head up and keep on going. Never willing to admit defeat never willing to say die until I truly am dead. I have to much to lose my health, my family, hell even just watching the sun set and rise or noticing the noise the wind makes through the trees,
Life is more then worth living, it's worth fighting for and though at times it seems like I must fight for every inch, every moment, it's worth doing. Most of all to see someone anyone smile.