Normal

Alright, so I fell off the band wagon and disappeared for a while. What’s the big deal? My life got flipped, turned upside down, I guess you can say. Life completely changed on me and I took off on yet another journey that has taken me up to this very moment. And this—this is an important moment.

I came home from the hospital yesterday. I was there for a few days. DKA again. Second time in the past 6 months. I believe that to be the fourth time overall since being diagnosed in 2009. This last time, the Diabetes nurse came to my room telling me I was her top priority because my A1c was a 15. Completely off her chart (Something around a 400 average blood sugar over the last 3 months). She said it was the highest A1c she had ever seen. After talking for a brief time, it began to dawn on me more and more what the underlying issue was. 

It was my depression that was killing me.

After I got home yesterday, I thought more about it. I thought back to every doctor, nurse, family member and friend who lectured me over and over again to take care of myself. That if I continue like this, I will end up—well, let’s just say, it won’t be good. I would matter-of-factly explain to them that I knew what to do. I knew how to take care of myself. That I probably knew more about Type 1 Diabetes than they did. And honestly, this was all true, although no one would ever believe me. I would tell them all this and then explain to them that I just wouldn’t. Needless to say, they got angry and frustrated with me. They couldn’t understand why. No one ever really bothered to dig a little deeper and figure it out with me. I barely knew why.

I believe I have figured it out now. It isn’t that I want to die. It isn’t that I want to be sick. And I certainly don’t want to end up in the hospital all the time. 

I just want to be normal again.

Normal to me is not having it all together. Normal is not testing my blood sugar all the time. Normal is not shooting myself up with insulin every time I want to eat. Normal people don’t do that. I pushed it aside. I made myself sick day after day until I couldn’t take it anymore and finally gave in. But the thing with giving in—it was me admitting that I wasn’t normal. When I finally stuck myself with a needle, it was almost like me punishing myself for having it.

I would cry when I did it.

I know how backwards that sounds. I understand I am nuts. But now that I have realized this, it has given me a new outlook. Normal is being healthy and living as well as you can by doing whatever it is that you have to do to do so. Everyone has their ailments. Some minor, some major. People with horrible vision don’t walk around without their glasses just because “normal” people don’t wear them. They put them on so that they can live normally. People don’t walk around making themselves suffer—at least they shouldn’t. And I shouldn’t. 

I do want to live a healthy life. I don’t want to punish myself anymore. I’m done with the hospital. I am done with DKA. I am going to finally start working on me again. It’s about time.

Ciao.

In The Dark

I think this is going to be one of the hardest posts to talk about. I may even cry while I write it. I think I may have gone off the deep end.I have been so lost that I didn't even realize yesterday was Wednesday, so I didn't post anything. I didn't even take part in my Wednesday night DSMA chat on Twitter that I always had looked forward too. I am just a complete disaster right now.

I broke up with my boyfriend. Bottom line is that I was not happy. At all. I felt trapped. I felt controlled. I was getting more and more depressed every week that went by. It just wasn't pretty and I knew I had to get out. He did not take it well. He has made me out to be an evil person, kicked me out of my own apartment, and is threatening to tell the cops that I attacked him if I show up there. He has gotten me so frightened that I am scared to go back. Now I am sleeping on my mother's couch. Just where I started before I met him. My furniture is there, and I am now living out of bags.

If I wasn't already having a horrible time with diabetes, this has made it a billion times worse. I don't want to eat, but when I do, I don't even think about taking a shot. I am finding it hard forcing myself to. I have checked my sugars maybe 3 times in the past few days. If that. It's like I pushed it aside. Right now, I don't even care anymore. I give up. I surrender. Please, just go away, Diabetes, while I handle this!! I can't handle anything. I am crying too much. I am shaking too much. You are just too much of a pain in the ass. Just go away and leave me be!!

I really just want to hide. I'll go admit myself into the hospital right now. But then again, I can't. I have to figure things out. I have to go to work. I have to go to school. I have to find a place to live. I have to actually deal with life. I can't just hide. I actually have to be responsible. Argh.

I really should just blame myself for this. I am the one who broke up with him. I should have known this would happen. I feel so stupid and so lost. I am done. I have lost it.

Thanks.

The Walk Of Shame...To The Dietician.

So it's Wednesday again and you know what that means? It's blog posting day! Yes, that is right. If you have not yet noticed, I have limited this blog to once a week and Wednesday happens to be the lucky day! Congratulations, Wednesday.

I see my dietician tomorrow morning. This is the first time in months that I am not looking forward to it. Last time I was there, she gave me instructions to keep the log and she recommended things to add to my diet. You might know, if you have been reading my blogs, that the log went out the window a little after the 4th of July. Forget about the diet suggestions. I can't afford the things she wanted me to eat. Not to mention she recommended milk. And I hate milk.

I feel so awful. It is like I am going to school the day a huge project is due, but it was a project that I never got around finishing. I am so ashamed. When she asks me how I did, I will bow my head in utter shame and tell her that I failed miserably. I won't even be able to look her in the eye because I am afraid of what she will say. I am going to have to try and prepare myself for the disappointment that I will hear in her voice.

Her reaction isn't the only thing I am worried about, though. You see, she is trying to work with me to figure out what me insulin to carb ratio is. In order to do this, you have to keep track of everything that goes into my body. I have to keep track of what my blood sugars are at least four times a day. Basically, I have to see what food is doing what to my body and my sugars. What I have written down would have been a really good snapshot. I had a good two weeks of information. The only problem is that the day I stopped logging was the day my sugars went bonkers. I should have kept it up but I just couldn't do it. All that work for nothing.

I could give her what I have, but what's the use? It has lost all relevance. Now I know what she is going to have me do. Start again. Start fresh. But the just means that I have been wasting months waiting for this appointment with nothing to show for it. Now I have to wait a few more months and hope that I can do it. Again. I hope I don't aggravate her too much. I understand how important this information is. I just hope that she realizes that I do.

Or maybe I could just tell her my dog ate it. Sigh.

Thanks for reading and the comments.

Avoiding The Burnout

In my most recent post, I talked all about my battle with Depression and how it is effecting my Diabetes. Let me just tell you, it hasn't changed much since. I am still lacking the heart and soul that was previously keeping me going strong. I know I need to find it again, somehow, because my health severely depends on my constant effort. I talked to one of my nurses yesterday and told her everything. The phrase that stuck out in my mind when she responded was "Diabetes Burnout". I thought to myself "Well that can't be good..."

I had heard of this before. It is when a Diabetic gets so fed up with the constant day-to-day, hour-to-hour management of their disease, that they just simply give up. It might last a little while, and for some, it may last forever. Now, she reassured me that I wasn't to that point...yet, but if I don't jump back, there is a good possibility that I could find myself in that predicament. I refuse.

I ended up doing a little research online about the matter to try to find ways of avoiding the burnout. I found a little information here from the Joslin Diabetes Center. It helped a little bit, but I thought maybe others could benefit from the tips it gives.

What I really need is to focus. I need to be in touch with my nurses more often, because they are my cheerleaders. I found that going to all those appointments, as much as they were a pain in the ass to get to, were truly helping me along. The Diabetic Online Community is also a huge help, as I have previously discussed. The only downside is that I cannot talk to them face to face, and sometimes, face to face is what I need.

I need to do whatever it takes to not burn myself out. Has anyone else ever fell into this hole? How did you get out of it? Please, let me know! Tell me your stories! I would love to hear them.

Thanks for reading and thanks for the comments!

In Need Of A Helping Hand

Depression. This word has been a huge part of my life for almost 15 years. It comes and goes, but it always dwells deep inside of me and every so often, it screams to come out. Sometimes I let it, sometimes I don't. This time, it took over and didn't even let me choose.

When I get depressed, the signs are very recognizable. The dishes pile up. The clothes remain unwashed. My spirit and life disappear for a while. I get overwhelmed and the longer things go on this track, the harder it is for me to bounce back. This is not a good thing for a diabetic. Not at all.

Type 1 Diabetes can be overwhelming for anyone, depression or not. There is so much to think about--so much to worry about. Add depression into the mix, you've got yourself a problem.

I'm not sure if it is the diabetes that is causing my depression this time, or if it is just depression itself. It may be that my sugars being so high lately is causing me to lose hope, or if my depression is causing my high blood sugars. Either way, it is getting harder and harder everyday for me to focus. It is to the point where I don't even want to eat because I don't want to have to deal with giving myself insulin. I don't even want to check my blood sugar level because I am afraid to see what it is. It all just makes me want to cry and hide away in my bedroom.

People ask me why I don't see anyone about depression or why I don't take medication for it. The thing is, every time I have seen someone, I always end up answering my own questions, and I feel like I am paying them for nothing. I just feel like I can always just get myself out of it. And I always do. I have tried to take medication for it, but it never worked for me. Again, I have always been able to get myself out of it. I don't need to put a magic pill into my system. Sometimes I feel like maybe I do need to and I am just being stubborn, but it doesn't matter either way. I pay too much for my other medications anyway. I can't add another one into the bunch.

For now, I will just deal with it. Make the motions. I get scared, though. My depression has never been this bad since being diagnosed. I am not sure how I will handle it and for how long it will last. I am reaching my hand out for help. I am desperate for someone to take it because I cannot do this alone.

Thanks for reading and the comments. Thank you for your support.

When All I Could Think About Is Food...

I have a serious problem. It is a problem that I have had for a very long time, much longer than I have had Type 1 Diabetes. It is an addiction that I just can't kick and having it, on top of having diabetes is making life just a tad bit harder. What is this problem, you ask? A food addiction and I don't see it going away any time soon.

I am a compulsive over eater. I eat when I'm hungry. I eat when I'm not hungry. It really doesn't matter. I think about food constantly and I always go for that second helping.

Before I was diagnosed, my biggest issue with my addiction was, of course, gaining weight and, well, eating crap that I shouldn't. I ate fast food--a lot--and that can't be good for anybody. I never really cared much, though. I just ate whenever I wanted and never thought much about what was going into my body. Life was good, I'd say. I still look back on those days with envy. Nowadays, I have to care, and sometimes, frankly, it really sucks.

When I went to go see my nutritionist recently, she told me that average women who are diabetic usually consume about 30 to 45 grams of carbohydrates per meal. My eyes widened like a child who had their favorite toy taken away from them. She explained a lot about serving sizes and which foods had 15 grams of carbs. I almost laughed, but I also almost cried at the same time. There was no way, I thought. I could easily eat 75 to 100 grams of carbs, and probably still want more. I really, didn't know what to say. The worst part about it is the fact that all my favorite foods have the most carbs. Pasta and especially potatoes. How depressing.

I do realize that I can eat these things. I just have to take enough insulin to cover what I ingest. Easy fix, sure. I'll just sweep the "30-45 gram" rule under the rug. If only it really worked that way. I used to eat a bowl of mashed potatoes, and 2 hours later have a plate of french fries. Taking all that insulin can't be good. Of course, eating all that food can't be too good, either. Sometimes, though, I just don't know when to stop!

I guess I just really miss the freedom I used to have. I used to just eat. Now I have to think about what I am eating and prepare myself for it. I can't just eat a candy bar on a whim. I have to take a shot. Ice cream (yes, Wendall), I have to take a shot. My glory days are over, it seems. But are they really?

What I realize now is that all of this has a silver lining. Eating healthier. Thinking about what I eat. I don't just look at carbs now. I look ate protein and fat content. I look at vitamins. It is almost like I am budgeting. Everything that I eat has a purpose now. Everything that my food is made of has a function and it does its job, as long as I eat what my body needs. It goes without saying that everyone should adopt this outlook, not just a diabetic like myself. Everybody needs to eat healthy and give their body what it is craving.

Now, I haven't fully gotten to the point where I am eating great. I still go for the mashed potatoes. I still get that second helping of my favorite recipe of fettuccine alfredo. I still crave, well, crap. It will be a long road until I get to the point where can eat 30 to 45 grams of carbs and feel satisfied. Until then, I am not quite sure what to do. If anyone has any tips at all, please comment. I need any advice that is willing to be given. Thank you in advance.

One more thing I wanted to add before I end this post. I just wanted to let everyone know that I made a Facebook page for my blog and if you enjoy reading my blog, I invite you over there. I feel silly saying it like this but please "Like" me! =) Here is the link: The Late Diabetic on Facebook

Thank you for reading!

What Have I Got To Lose?

I went to the clinic today. I had made the appointment a few weeks ago with the nurse practitioner for a diabetes check up. I went in with two clogged ducts in my eyelids, one being infected, and an infected big toe. Why am I telling you this? Well, had I been an average person, these ailments would not have me worried so much. But alas, I have Type 1 Diabetes, which means that I do worry, and I am worried. An average person would have went in, got some meds and be sent on their way. Me? I left with 2 more appointments--one with a podiatrist, the other with an optometrist. Ugh.

I have had all sorts on infections in my past, but ever since being diagnosed two years ago, every single time I get any type of infection, I red flag them in my mind--especially when I get them on my feet. I am sure you have read all about my catastrophic dog bite. (If you have not, you can read all about it here.) When the doctor mentioned the word "amputation", I will not lie, it scared the crap out of me. Who wouldn't be scared? Now, every little thing that goes wrong with me, I think the worst.

I do realize that not everything is going to be life threatening, or even limb threatening, but my imagination has a tendency to run wild. And it does. Every time. I used to think I was invincible, but I have met a few people who made me come to terms with the fact that I, of course, am not.

Shortly after being diagnosed, a man became one of my coworkers. He had one leg. Everyone stared at him, and I, being the understanding person that I am, looked passed it, and he eventually told me that he lost it to Diabetes. Another man, who I have mentioned before, had a few of his toes removed, and then his entire foot. He eventually lost his life. It is so sad and so so scary to think about. I don't mean to frighten anyone, though. I really don't.

I know, that things like that happen to those who have poor control over their diabetes. People tell me all the time not to sorry so much because these are circumstances where their blood sugars were too high for way too long. Well, let me tell you, when I was bit, I had dreadful control, so it was definitely something that could have happened.

Now that I am in control (for the most part, at least) I am calming down a bit. I don't freak out over everything. Just over some things. Like my big toe. I am quite attached to it, thank you, and I would like to keep it.

Thanks for reading and thank you for your comments!