I'm a type one diabetic. So every single morning, (heck, every single day, multiple times a day) —I take something called insulin. Most people have the luxury of making it naturally. But not me. I have to physically inject myself with it because the beta cells in my body stopped working with my pancreas to make it on its own. It's crazy because too much can kill me, just enough keeps me alive —but not enough, and I'm dead. Not to be so blunt, but, it's true. What's even crazier, is that somedays I can do the exact same thing I did the day before but my body won't always react the same way. That's what happened last night. And let me tell you, I'm exhausted. I'm exhausted because yesterday my blood sugar dropped dangerously low. I went from 159 to 40. Do you know what that means? In case you don't, I'm about to break it down. This is what you need to know.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a failure at a disease I never asked for —something I could have never prevented. Most days, yeah. I look like everybody else. But I’m not. I want to feel normal. I don’t want to be different. But I am. Every single morning, I get out of bed just like you, but my routine is probably different than yours. I mean, how would your life change if you were diagnosed with a life-threatening illness that you were told was incurable? For me, I’m tired. I’m tired of having to prick my finger every time I want to leave the house or do anything for that matter. I’m tired of worrying that maybe one day, I will not wake up. Because yeah, there’s a chance, I won’t make it past a certain age because of some diabetic complication. Oh and, I’m tired just thinking about how tired I am. But no one really notices. No one actually wants to talks about it. But I do —even though, most can’t understand. No one understands because you don’t until you do. You don’t because you don’t have too —until it’s you. Well, now it’s me. I was never good at math but now I have to be. And even though, it's apart of my new normal, I don't think I'll ever get used to it. So this is what I want you to know.
It was the summer of 2010. I was supposed to take a few classes over break but when my financial aid was denied, it initiated a chain of events that forever changed my life. Before I knew it, I was addicted. I didn’t even know what I was getting myself into before it was too late. I was sick if I didn't have them, yet, I didn’t understand what I was doing —that's the problem with painkillers. Sometimes you don't realize how bad it really is until you run out of pills.
I always felt different. At least today I know why. It's just I sometimes still fear people think I'm crazy because of my insane insecurities. I mean, on one hand, I am but on the other, I'm just like everybody else. And yet, it doesn't make me feel any less alone. You may think I'm being weak but you never really knew me and you certainly don't know the person I've become. I want you to know but you never ask. If you did, this is what I'd say.
I was the poster child of hedonism. I chased highs and escape. I ate too much. I drank too much. I gossiped too much. I bought too much. I smoked too much. I worked too much. The list clearly goes on. Because I felt so empty, I used an insane amount of external things to fill the holes on the inside —anything that fed my senses, I was hungry for. Because I had failed to address any of the things that were driving my need to escape in the first place, my first go at ditching pills crashed and burned. But then, I switched my plan of attack. It was during this time that holistic therapy began to take on a whole new meaning for me. So here it goes.
I remember being on vacation and not needing my standard amount of insulin. I didn't understand why my blood sugars were so stable and almost normal until I understood how stress effects just about everything. Many anxious moments occur spontaneously. However, some can be predicted. And if you can predict it, you can prevent it. Here's what you need to know about stress and blood sugar levels.
There are some days when I can't muscle enough energy to leave the house. There are weeks when it hurts to simply get out of bed. As the months go by, I don't understand why my insides hate me. Then I found CBD oil. That's when everything changed. I say this because lately, I have more energy. I'm worrying less and socializing more. My illnesses no longer define me —despite the obstacles staring at me in the face. When it's all said and done, CBD helps me every day. Here are nine ways CBD can help you too.
I don’t remember when, but at some point, I realized what I was feeling and going through was not normal nor healthy. It was hard to admit that I was drowning. But, if I was going to get help, if I was going to feel happy again and be able to stay afloat, I needed to admit that something was wrong. I was not okay.
This disease is not solely based on the pursuit to “look beautiful" —for those who have some type of eating disorder, it's so much more than that. Honestly, it’s as if you're in an abusive relationship. One minute it’s spewing hateful thoughts about you and the next it’s apologetically, promising that if you listen to what it says you will achieve happiness. One thing I always wish people knew about living with this type of mental illness is that it casts a shadow on everything in your life, no matter how small it may seem from the outside world. So, this is what it's really like to live with an eating disorder —at least from my perception.
I figured other diabetics may be fighting to carry on with their day-to-day world while managing this life-changing illness. So, if you're wondering how to run errands or basically do anything outside of the house, I'm here to give you five suggestions. Because you're more of a boss than you give yourself credit for.