I did this once before a few weeks back, writing a blog post while high. My readers seemed to get a laugh out of it, and I got a lot of new followers, so I thought I’d make a regular run of it.
I Ate a couple of gummies a few minutes ago and I am now going to start my blog with a writing prompt. I chose Type 1 Diabetes as my prompt for tonight since the original reason I started this blog was to discuss my T1D and reach out to other diabetics and to teach those who don’t know T1D from a cup of sugar.
So, let us begin…
Most people know that diabetes exists, but many have no idea that there are multiple types of diabetes. Type 2 diabetes is the type most people know about. Type 2 diabetes is a metabolic disorder that causes the body to not be able to make enough insulin to cover it’s needs or to not be able to use insulin efficiently (insulin resistance). Many people believe that type 2 diabetes is the patients fault, that they brought it on by eating a bad diet and/or not exercising enough. Although these things can put a person at higher risk of developing type 2, they are not the cause. Anyone can develop type 2 diabetes, even the healthiest lifestyles and most fit individuals can get type 2 diabetes. Type 2 is NOT curable, once you have it you have it for life. Yes, you can get it under such good control that you no longer have symptoms and your blood glucose level is controlled, but that is all it is, controlled, not cured. As soon as you slack off your hard work to control it you will be sorely reminded that the diabetes is still there.
Another common type of diabetes is prenatal diabetes. The only type of diabetes that is curable is prenatal diabetes. The only people who get prenatal diabetes are pregnant women. The diabetes usually goes away shortly after the pregnancy ends. Women who have prenatal diabetes are at higher risk of developing type 2 diabetes later.
Other types of diabetes are Maturity Onset Diabetes of the Young (MODY), Latent Autoimmune Diabetes in Adults (LADA), Type 3c Diabetes, Steroid induced diabetes, Cystic Fibrosis Diabetes, Wolfram Syndrome, Alstrom Syndrome…. These are all subtypes of Type 1 and 2 Diabetes.
Then there is my type of diabetes, Type 1. T1D is an autoimmune disorder. In T1D the pancreas is not able to produce insulin. Since you know that insulin is a hormone the human body naturally produces, you can then understand that insulin is not a medicine. And seeing as you know in a T1D the body is not able to produce this hormone (not medicine) insulin whenever it is needed, that insulin injections are a therapy, NOT a cure.
T1D’s must inject or infuse insulin either several times a day (insulin injections) or 24/7 (insulin pump), we must also keep a very close eye on our blood glucose level. We do this by finger pricks and a continuous glucose monitor.
OK, guys it’s hitting me now. I really do not care to continue having to be all comprehensive and use my brain. It might explode.
The reality of being T1D is that it sucks, I fucking hate it. I hate having to think and remember and keep vigilant…*stop to yell at dogs to stop pissing each other off* and …and…*read sentence over a million times because I keep getting distracted*…I just hate it, I’d like to not to have to be forever worried, forever aware of things healthy (normal) people (ableds)….
You know I have been thinking a lot about wheather or not T1D is a disability. Like, the definition of disability is to not be able to…the human body/mind not able to do the job a human body/mind is supposed to. OK, my pancreas can’t do one thing it is supposed to be able to do. So, scientifically I do have a disabiliy…I am disabled.
BUT, this disability my body has does not make me unable to do anything an able body can. So, even if I am scientifically disabled, I am not LEGALLY disabled.
So be aware of your technicalities.
UGH, there I go thinking again. I want to turn my brain off for a bit.
So many thoughts changing around in my mind…
I’m narrating again.
Everything is is so funny!!!
This is going to become a cycle…
This is all so funny!!!
*go play with Tindi (dog)*
“I’ve gotta…I’m supposed to be typeing”…
“Thinking is difficult”
have trouble typeing…have trouble working fingers…coordination…
have trouble spelling…\
not thnking straight…
not seeing straight…
maybe I’ll just go to bed…after I type this
Hubby says from the other room “Who would reject Chongus?”
I giggle, this’ll be funny when I read this tomorrow.
not thinking straight
ringing in ears
gonna have anxiety reading this sectioon tomorrow.
what’s wrong with me…oh, no…fuck not an anxiety high!!!!!
*goes on a laughing binge attack*
Damn, I have so much fun with these “writing while high” exeercises
“You OK, hun?” -hubby
waver at him while giggling
*giggle* I give up it’s getting hard to think to keep laughing
You guys are missing so much I cant remeber to type
I just confused you
*giggling all the time*
happy but confused
I feel like I’m playing a game
I love this
I gotta go pee
I just typed it calm
I’m gonna write about this later…
Next Day: I fell into a very bad high. I was very high and I was falling through eternity again. I have come to realize that my experiences with falling through eternity are most adequately explained this way, imagine having dejavu every split second, over and over again.
Hubby had my hands on his face rubbing his whiskers.
“This is real. You are here, this is real.”
“I know, OK, this is real. IT’s not real. Right here, right here.”
Time would go by slow, then jump ahead. I just knew I was going insane. I would laugh, I couldn’t get out an entire sentence before my thoughts would shift.
I would feel like I was coming out of it, but then I would shift back to narrating and then fall back into falling through eternity again.
Eventually I passed out for a couple hours, then woke up for a bit I don’t remember well. Finally I fell asleep for 20 hours straight and now here I am.
The interesting thing about bad highs is that you are terrified in the moment, but when you sober up you look back and it was actually fun. That’s IMO.
How was your Friday the 13th? It’s 3:46PM on the 14th right now and I am still jittery, fog-brained, depressed, and feeling like emotional shit for everything that happened last night.
And I don’t even remember last night!
Let this be a lesson to all to keep close track of what/how much you ingest when you partake of mind-altering substances. Especially if you are crossfading.
What is crossfading? That is what we call it when we are both high as a kite and drunk as fuck.
Crossfade can be the most amazingly wonderful experience, which is why so many of us work to achieve it. But when done wrong – and it is super easy to do it wrong- it can be the most petrifying experience.
The latter is what happened to me last night.
So, how did I fuck up my crossfade? Well, it is really, really stupid, but we all know I don’t shy away from taking resposibility for my stupidity, so here goes.
It all started when someone packed the Hookah. Blue Mist shisha, mixed with this secret blend of herb. This friend makes this mix that tastes like chocolate, no one knows how they manage to make this flavor, but they do and it is yummy.
We smoke. I get a mild, pleasant high. We talk for awhile, life is good.
I get the munchies and remember I have a caesar salad waiting in the fridge. I go get it and someone says, hey, try these drops in your salad, they are lemon flavored so should mix well with your dressing. I am a bit anxious but go for it. I think two or three little drops were put in. I ate my salad and promptly forgot about those drops.
Roughly two hours go by and we get ready for our Zoom meeting with friends to play our own version of Drunk History; Drunk/High/Crossfade History. I prepare and start drinking some Diet Pepsi with a couple shots of Whiskey mixed in.
The evening progresses and I grab another drink. Now we are up to fourish shots of whiskey (probably more because I’m not measuring). At some point early in the Zoom I nomed on two sativa gummies, I love a head high more than a body.
Now, remember, the Hookah has long since worn off…or so I thought, and I have long since totally forgotten I ate those drops in my salad.
The Zoom is going on. I am thinking I’m being obnoxious and annoying to my friends. I send a few non-sensical texts out to friends.
The next thing I know I am sitting on my bed, shocked at the sudden change in location. Now I am sitting on the couch saying something about needing to pee but I don’t think I can stand up or walk. Hubby suddenly appears in front of me. I say something about drink and suddenly a bottle of water pops up in front of me. Just like magic.
The evening progresses with black outs intermixed with moments of magical appearances of Hubby and water, intermixed with moments of ugly crying, just wanting people to be happy, and I don’t want to go to the hospital, check my BG, maybe I need an IV fluids…
Not once during the entire night did I stop feeling a terrifically terrifying sense of terror. A couple times I think I hallucinated ghosts in the room with us.
At some point I pass out.
I wake up several times throughout the next 12 hours, still quite high/drunk. I did not get a traditional alcohol hangover, but I do definitely have a weed hangover. I feel OK, but then I feel a twinge of panic for no reason. I sometimes feel like my reality is altered and I am going crazy.
I ate some gummies a few minutes ago. The special kind of gummies. although the ones I just ate are a hybrid strain, I totally prefer straight sativa. I like the head high more than the body high. I like communing with the universe, yo.
I have been mulling over the idea of writing while high just to see what comes of it. I have been wanting to do it for a while now but the last several times I got high I was hit with a heavy sleepiness and/or lethargy, and/or I was crossfaded. Anyway, I just didn’t write.
This time, though, I planned ahead, ate the gummies mid-day instead of evening, and sat my butt in front of my computer before the high hit.
As my regular readers know, I never edit my posts, I write and then hit “publish”, no editing. I do this because I like to stay raw, true… and I think it holds my emotion and thought process so readers can, hopefully, feel like this is an in person talk rather than a stranger reading a stranger’s drivel.
Oh, OK, I think it’s starting to hit.
I am ready to go.
I have decided my prompt for this experiment is going to be discussing a certain fantasy I have had since I hit puberty, I have had the same base for the fantasy that long, but over the years the players, setting, and circumstances have changed. Why do I have this fantasy? What caused it? It’s so different from who I am and want to be, so, why have it?
The fantasy always consists of me (but what I think of as beautiful, attractive, very feminine, etc.) and a “hero” or two or three, usually a man/men, a crisis, a battle, and me and the hero becoming buds.
I am an intelligent, strong, perfectly capable woman who just so happens to have gotten into a lot of trouble. Hero (s) comes along a helps me out of the imminent danger and then we partner up and fight battles together.
OK, that’s just the most recent incarnation of this fantasy. There have been many incarnations over the years. When I first started having the fantasy I was very much a damsel in distress and there was one “Hero” and he was my dream guy. At the time my dream guy was dark haired, brown skinned, slender but tone athletic build, average height, kind, strong, leader…. you know, a Hero.
Yeah, a very common fantasy for girls. A very common fantasy due to societal and religeous inffluences teaching girls they need a hero, they need to be taken care of, protected. They need a man.
I was caught in that world growing up. And because I was also struggling with my life and drowning in feelings of loss, helplessness, uselessness… I totally fell for the hero idea, someone to come save me and make everything allright forever.
My religious upbringing had a lot to do with it as well. religion is very much a psychological safety blanket. We feel lost – no one feels like they got it all together all the time- we have that fantasy of being saved; the church comes along and offers us a savior, but our minds don’t think of a soul savior, but a letteral person who comes along and fixes our life and is our sugar daddy for life. Hell yeah, I will hold that fantasy in the back of my mind while I follow this God dude as my security blanket, he will save my soul, keep me “safe” not just right now but for all eternity.
I fell for that gobblety gook, too. It felt safe…but it wasn’t real, it was just a coping mechanism for life.
As I got older the fantasy would take on a romantic and even sexual context. Now my hero is someone I fall in love with… and have sex with.
More comfort, more security. In all aspects of life, I am brought safety and comfort.
Throughout this time the hero was always a man, and I was always helpless and weak. And he always swooped in and took charge and rescued me.
As I matured, my view of the world expanded and changed. My idea of women needing help by men dissapeared, my veiw of gender rolls shrank and shivelled. My fantasy slowly and significantly changed. MY hero sometimes became a woman, sometimes multiplied, and ofted became characters from movies, shows, books, etc. Sometimes the hero was a villian I fought and overcame or befriended. Sometimes I was the villian who learns new ideas and values.
As I grew in knowledge and experience, and as I overcame my mental illnesses, my fantasy turned from me and my hero to me being the hero, to me becoming a member of a group of heroes who have saved each other and helped each other become their own hero and now fight together to save others.
I have no idea where I am going with all of this, LOL. I am having trouble concentrating right now. So, yeah, I have this fantasy, a lot of people have their own version of this same damned fantasy and it’s all because we were raised wrong.
Even our fantasies have mental illness!
But It’d OK, life is good. LOL, LOL, LOL>>>
Oh, I am having fun with this writing while hight thing.
Everything I write is so gotdamned funny! LOL!
OH, I am going to laugh so hard when I read this back later! LOL!
I am going to pee my pants! LOL!
Lee(from the other room): “Tamra, why are you crying?”
ME: “I’m not …*Sprshhshsh*… I’m trying not to laugh….*sshhshhshh*”
Lee: “OK…you have fun with that now…”
Still trying not to pee my pants…
Trying to get my thoughts together. Hard to concentrate.
A bit sleepy now. Edibles come in waves, especially when you have delayed stomach emptying. Hehe. So I’ll have moments like this where I am more clear headed, then moments of total high where I laugh so hard I almost wet myself. Then less high, then high high again, and back and forth for a bit until the high fades all together.
Singing – “I want yoooouuu, you know what I meaaan….”
Lee’s talking to his gaming friends about me being “So super high right now…”
I love hearing him laughing with his friends. It’s been a long time.
My little butthole (my dog Tindi) is over here wanting to play with me… I just spelled ‘here’ ‘hear’ and I corrected the error but it just hit me as so damned funny! That type of error is hilarious! but what makes us make that error? the ideas are separate in our minds, but the spelling and idea get lost on the way from the mind to the fingers.
I keep stopping typing so I can giggle, concentrate on giggling. LOL
Lee – “Tamra, you still alive?!”
ME- *giggle* “yeaaaahhh” *giggle*
Lee- “OK” , to his buddies, “She’s still alive”.
It just took me sooooooo long to type that.
That word is so expressionate. That’s, like, exactly what you do when you giggle. expressionate, I am laughing so hard at how I spelled that. I’m not even gonna correct it so y’all can see it and laugh, too.
One thing I’m not typing down for you is the constant negative narrative I have going on at the same time as my hillarious shit. As I type something hillarious, my negative mind is telling me you all are not entertained. That I am dumb and this blog post is terrible, meaningless, and brings no good to this world because I bring no good to this world, I never have and never will. I’ll go to my death never having made one person truly smile or truly better. My bone shall chill in the fires of hell.
And on the outside I am laughing and feeling oh, so happy. LOL *big smile*
You know the constant alert beeps on your phone? I know I can turn off notifications, but subconsiously I leave it on because I need to feel a contextion to other human beings. I need to be loved,
“I diserve to be loved!”
My #SPNFamily will get that quote. LOL
I’m so tired. Sleepy.
Yeah, I just did that…I can hardly believe I cold handle it. LOL
Gonna go get somthing to drink. Dry mouth. From high, not high.
LOL, my #T1D peeps will laugh at that. LOL
Lee to his gamer buddies – “LOL, Tamra walks and giggles into the room, walks between me and the TV, grabs a soda, turns to me and giggles, walks back into the room.”
LOL “Lee, is Tindi outside?!”
Oh, wait, I didn’t say that outloud.
But, really? Is Tindi outside?
I went to let Tindi back in. One the way back remebered Lee got beef jerky.
“Didn’t you get beef jerky?”
“Where is it?”
Lee hands it to me.
“Egh, it’s the sticks…” I say, then shrug and tke the jerky with me, “I’m high…”
These are gross, but they’re fine when ur high.
Couldn’t find the meme I was looking for but this one gets the point.
Yeah, this was a jump back to the “high, not high” comment. #T1D.
Awe, the high is starting to die. 😦
This was fun, maybe I’ll start a series of writings while high.
So, I hope you learned a lot about why I have such a common fantasy.
A few nights ago I had one of those super vivid dreams. It was a good dream, a wonderful dream, a euphoric dream.
Then I woke up and realized it was all just a dream and I wanted to cry.
In the dream someone posted all over the internet and sent to all medical professionals and journals the cure for type 1 diabetes and cures for all auto-immune diseases. These cures had been found over a decade earlier and burried by pharmaceutical companies, corrupt members of government and other powers that be because, quite simply and greedily, there is no money in cures.
All those involved with hiding the cures were arrested. A lot of arrests.
Thousands of chronically ill people flocked to doctors and got their cures. I got mine and within weeks my entire life was different. I had no pain, I had no fatigue, I had greatly improved health, and I’d lost a lot of weight.
I have lived right smack in the middle of California since not long after my diagnosis of type 1 diabetes 27 years ago. In all the years I’ve lived here, I have rarely been able to find any real support, activities, groups, etc., just for type 1 diabetics. There have been a few, usually through an insurance company or medical facility, and sometimes through charity organizations or even a small local group run by parents of diabetics. But these things were few and far between, and sometimes expensive and impersonal.
I wasn’t looking for support groups per se, or camps, or money raising or awareness raising events. I was looking more for a club type experience. You know, a group of type 1’s just like me that get together on a regular basis and hang out, do stuff, and, on top of that,be there for each other in ways no one, not even those close to us (simply because they are not diabetic themselves) can be.
To hang out with a group of people who live in my area and just so happen to be type 1, too. For free, no strings attached…you just need to be a type 1. That would be spectacular. Why doesn’t this exist? If it ever did exist I missed the memo all these years.
When I started really getting into the internet, and really getting into my health and diabetes control. I started thinking more and more about social media and diabetes. I found a web site called TuDiabetes.org and joined up. It is a social media site just for diabetics and family of diabetics. Being a member of this site has helped me so much; I have gained so much knowledge and support from interaction with all the members. And then I found a lot of diabetics on Twitter and #DSMA (Diabetes Social Media Advocacy). Through social media I found so much help and emotional support. It’s amazing.
I have absolutely no problem with type 2 diabetics and type 1 diabetics and family of diabetics all mixing together and supporting each other. It’s wonderful and needed. But I also know, through personal experience, how type 1s are the minority, and type 1s tend to end up the wallflowers in the corner of the party. It just happens, maybe because there are so few type 1s compared to type 2s. But in the end we need to find each other…
And, as I said before, be there for each other in a way no non-type 1 can ever be.
Social media has helped a lot, but I still want an in person experience. I want to have type 1 friends in my area. And I want to help type 1 kids. I went through so much crap emotionally and psychologically as a child because of my diabetes. I want to be available to diabetic kids, to let them know they are not alone, to answer their questions and help guide them to be able to handle the hardships of being diabetic. And to be a friend they can know that shows them their life doesn’t have to be all too different and painful (in all ways) from any other person’s.
Type 1 adults tend to get the short end of the stick as well. We are forgotten most of the time because type 1 attention seems to almost always be on the kids. I also want type 1 adult friends, and I also want to be there for type 1 adults. The hardship and pain doesn’t go away when you hit adulthood. In fact, it stays, and on top of all that crap, now you have to be an adult and do adult things while taking care of your diabetes all by yourself. We need friends, we need friends who know our struggle and live it, too.
I pondered the idea for months. I finally came to the decision of starting a Facebook page for type 1’s in the San Joaquin Valley. This page can be used to get to know each other, and hopefully eventually to post events and in person gatherings. It’s a first step in realizing the type of group I always wanted to be a part of.