“Look who’s talking! You’re unhealthy, fat, worse off than any of us. Who are you to suggest what’s healthy and how to do it right?”
This is one huge reason I don’t make many suggestions in my blog. My writing is dedicated to sharing my own personal experiences. Sure, I do have a lot to teach, if anybody would listen. But I’ve screwed up so many times in my life I just don’t feel worthy of teaching. I simply talk about my thought’s, feelings, and life experiences.
Yes, it’s true, I have dropped a tidbit of education here and there throughout my posts. I just can’t help it when someone smacks of ignorance and subsequent rudeness regarding diabetes. I just feel the need to set ’em straight through a blog post.
And anyway, there is no one way to live healthy. We are all human, but we are all unique and have different needs in order to be healthy, right?
It’s the same with diabetes. What works for one diabetic may not for another.
So, who would I be to talk? All I know is me and my body…and I still can’t figure that out!
Living with an incurable autoimmune chronic disease is not easy. The fact that it is incurable means I will have it until I die (it will probably be the cause of my death). Autoimmune means that it is my very own body that is trying to murder me…all day everyday.
According to medicine.net “A chronic disease is one lasting 3 months or more, by the definition of the U.S. National Center for Health Statistics. Chronic diseases generally cannot be prevented by vaccines or cured by medication, nor do they just disappear.”
There, I taught something…
Anyway, I find my type 1 diabetes being an autoimmune disease kind of funny and apropos in a morbid kind of way. My body hates me…and I hate me, too.
From the day I was diagnosed, way back in 1987, I have hated myself. Self-loathing, so full of hate, anger, shame, self-blame…
I didn’t know I had an autoimmune disease. All I knew is that I was diseased and it would last forever. I blamed myself even though there is no way on earth I could have brought this on myself. It was my fault because….because I’m a horrible human being…because I fail at life….because…well, because I’m just me and I always get the bad things.
It’s my body and it’s screwed up which means I’m screwed up…I hate it! And therefore I hate me!
I find no separation in my being and body. Just as I find no separation in my being and diabetes.
I am a Person With Diabetes, yes, I understand that. But, sorry, all y’all PWD pushers, but I find it much more suiting to me to be a Diabetic.
It has been my identity since 1987 and nothing will ever change that. I’m not trying to be depressing here. I’m simply speaking my truth, my heartache, my psychosis.
I can’t understand how diabetics (especially type 1’s) can insist that diabetes isn’t part of their identity. They try so hard to separate themselves from it, yet still strive to live healthy with it… which requires constant vigilance, constant awareness of diabetes, constant thought and work to control it.
Either way, I have come to the conclusion that, at least for me, there is no “living healthy” – at least emotionally- with diabetes.
I cannot separate myself from diabetes, it is in me, it is my life…it is me.
Literally, diabetes is my life. There is no part of my life, no second of time, that I do not have to think about my diabetes. Eating = diabetes, any physical activity = diabetes, inactivity = diabetes, even thinking = diabetes; peeing, showering, sleeping, sex, travel, drinking fucking water! = diabetes!!!!
How could this not be an identity?!
It’s pretty much the same with all chronic illnesses. They become all-consuming…they become who you are.
I talk here of my struggles, heartache, self-hate. But, surprisingly I am not unhappy. Knowing and accepting who you are is it’s own happiness. I don’t go around pretending I’m something I’m not. I don’t spend my life trying to be something I can never be. I am content to be a diabetic. I’m fine with life as it is. It is far from perfect and therefore I do strive to make what can be better better. But to each of us, we can only be who we are…and that is true contentment.
Life was never meant to be happy. Life is meant to be a struggle. From the struggle comes the joy. If a person goes around thinking something is wrong because life isn’t perfect, then they only cause themselves more frustration.
I’ve learned not to look to what I want for happiness, but to look at what I already have to find contentment.
There, I have bared my soul…and showed my true craziness.
Ramble ramble ramble….. post done…