Mr. Diabetes
I realized, recently, that the painted picture on the outside was by no means how I was actually feeling on the inside. I've had a good game face the past 6 months, as I started shooting up insulin to the sweetest little boy in his tiny little thighs (and arms, and butt...but mostly thighs), testing tiny fingers all of the time (between classes and in the middle of the night), working around the clock, reading, reading, reading about all the latest and greatest Type 1 Diabetes information, explaining to everyone (and their mother, sister, and brother) what type 1 diabetes is (...and getting the same glazed over response that makes me realize that no one has a clue what I'm talking about, so I continue explaining until there's a sliver of hope inside of me that the person understands something, so that Morrison won't have to explain this for the next 50+ years. By the way, did you know that everyone is diabetic or has a dad or aunt or mother or grandma or uncle who is diabetic? And they can really not use so much medication when they improve their diet and exercise? And they often try to tell me that I can do that with Morrison? Gosh, I wish I'd known that..), responding incessantly to student emails, giving lectures, grading exams, listening to colleagues on the role I could play in the future, accepting (and considering reneging) my spot for my Ph.D. work, taking Morrison to everything possible (music class, swimming time, touch a truck, parks, reading times, toddler jump times, tumbling...jazz class...guitar class...acting classes....Harvard-prep classes...just kidding), and finding time to actually take care of myself.
Oh, wait. That last one may have fallen through the cracks. I feel like I hit a new low recently, but everything still appeared perfect. That's a funny spot to be in. And by funny, I mean not funny at all. No, I had a smile on and I was positive and energized and putting on such a strong game face that you never would know. Morrison has been having awesome blood glucose numbers, has seemed happier and healthier than ever, and is growing, growing, growing. Yet, when I think about myself, it was like drowning and calling out for help and everyone thinking you were just "calling wolf" so no one came running. Except, when I think back, I don't know if I was really calling out. And if i was, I must have done so very quietly, in a way that no one could actually hear, but I could still trick myself into believing that I was asking for help, yet no one was coming. And at night, after Morrison was asleep, and it was dark and quiet, is when I felt it the most. And when you trick yourself into believing that you were asking for help but no one was coming, it sure makes you feel even more alone. Way to go, self. And that's a tricky spot to get out of. I didn't want to actually talk about anything, as I certainly didn't want to interrupt anyone's joy and who am I kidding? I didn't have time for that type of conversation anyways because...I'm thinking blood sugar calculations and insulin dosages and fun and activity and smiles and happiness every second of everyday. After all, I'm not the the one who has only spent 2.5 years on this earth and not only has to learn everything about this world, but also a chronic disease. I have the most special little boy (I know, I know...mom problems, but I'm serious) who fills me with so much joy and so much happiness. So much so, in fact, that I could manage on an average of 3 hours of sleep a night, and not shave my legs for days (maybe weeks...), and not wash my hair (for months...just kidding), and hell, maybe I even forgot I had an actual name. Even though I was managing everything really well with work and Morrison, I think I started to forget that I was an actual human....not a robot, not just my son's pancreas, and not just a professor for my students.
That's all fine and dandy (no, I know...it's not), but when you have been through a lot of things...I think people expect you to "just deal with" or rather, I expect that. I expect that of myself. I know I've been through a lot more difficult experiences than the load we have been carrying recently, but I think sometimes that's the hardest point; once you hit a bit of a lull and everything is going smoothly, you feel like you should be instantly at peace and happiness should just be there. Boy, if that isn't some BS. Anyways, that's the real kicker, I guess.. I stopped having real connections and conversations, because all I have cared about is making sure my favorite little boy is happy, healthy, and in the right blood sugar range. In my attempt to defeat diabetes, I actually became involved in a very unhealthy, hot and heavy relationship with Mr. Diabetes. The kind of relationship that slowly isolates you from everything and everyone else.
I'll spare you the details. It wasn't that bad. It's all figured out now. He's not going anywhere just yet (but I'm always hopeful we can find a cure soon), but we talked it over and I've established balance in our relationship. He can't keep me up all night long, just so I can obsessively read all the latest research everyone is doing about him, but I'm happy to stay up if he's having an off day with Morrison.
You guys, I'm just happy I can share that with you. I'm not perfect. Balance is something I am always trying to maintain. I work extremely hard for the things that I want, and that was (and is) no different than where I stand with Morrison and diabetes. But, like I said, I'm just glad to put that out there. I know everyone has their struggles and I know we can share that but so often times we don't (fear of judgement, fear of isolation). We are lucky that way. We share experiences and moments in our lives. We show empathy, we offer sympathy, we offer hugs, we lessen the burden, we connect, we unite, and we grow from hard times. And I'm sorry if I haven't been doing enough of that, yet I am thankful for all of you have constantly reminded me of those things.
So, if you are going through something, whether loneliness, despair, uncertainty, acting like an organ instead of a human being, in an unhealthy relationship (whether with a human or otherwise), or whatever it may be,I know we grow from the hard times, whether solo or together. There's a time and place for everything. While it may be difficult to go through and at times, we may wish we could take all the pain and suffering away, I would never rob you from what you are feeling or what you are experiencing. You are growing, as am I. It is the season of life that you are in, and it's only that---a season. The leaves will change, the air will cool, and just like the changing weather, you will change too, into something better, more beautiful, more knowing. Feel the emotions, let them wash over you, and don't think for one second that this is going to be the ride you're on. It will get better. :)
Oh, wait. That last one may have fallen through the cracks. I feel like I hit a new low recently, but everything still appeared perfect. That's a funny spot to be in. And by funny, I mean not funny at all. No, I had a smile on and I was positive and energized and putting on such a strong game face that you never would know. Morrison has been having awesome blood glucose numbers, has seemed happier and healthier than ever, and is growing, growing, growing. Yet, when I think about myself, it was like drowning and calling out for help and everyone thinking you were just "calling wolf" so no one came running. Except, when I think back, I don't know if I was really calling out. And if i was, I must have done so very quietly, in a way that no one could actually hear, but I could still trick myself into believing that I was asking for help, yet no one was coming. And at night, after Morrison was asleep, and it was dark and quiet, is when I felt it the most. And when you trick yourself into believing that you were asking for help but no one was coming, it sure makes you feel even more alone. Way to go, self. And that's a tricky spot to get out of. I didn't want to actually talk about anything, as I certainly didn't want to interrupt anyone's joy and who am I kidding? I didn't have time for that type of conversation anyways because...I'm thinking blood sugar calculations and insulin dosages and fun and activity and smiles and happiness every second of everyday. After all, I'm not the the one who has only spent 2.5 years on this earth and not only has to learn everything about this world, but also a chronic disease. I have the most special little boy (I know, I know...mom problems, but I'm serious) who fills me with so much joy and so much happiness. So much so, in fact, that I could manage on an average of 3 hours of sleep a night, and not shave my legs for days (maybe weeks...), and not wash my hair (for months...just kidding), and hell, maybe I even forgot I had an actual name. Even though I was managing everything really well with work and Morrison, I think I started to forget that I was an actual human....not a robot, not just my son's pancreas, and not just a professor for my students.
That's all fine and dandy (no, I know...it's not), but when you have been through a lot of things...I think people expect you to "just deal with" or rather, I expect that. I expect that of myself. I know I've been through a lot more difficult experiences than the load we have been carrying recently, but I think sometimes that's the hardest point; once you hit a bit of a lull and everything is going smoothly, you feel like you should be instantly at peace and happiness should just be there. Boy, if that isn't some BS. Anyways, that's the real kicker, I guess.. I stopped having real connections and conversations, because all I have cared about is making sure my favorite little boy is happy, healthy, and in the right blood sugar range. In my attempt to defeat diabetes, I actually became involved in a very unhealthy, hot and heavy relationship with Mr. Diabetes. The kind of relationship that slowly isolates you from everything and everyone else.
I'll spare you the details. It wasn't that bad. It's all figured out now. He's not going anywhere just yet (but I'm always hopeful we can find a cure soon), but we talked it over and I've established balance in our relationship. He can't keep me up all night long, just so I can obsessively read all the latest research everyone is doing about him, but I'm happy to stay up if he's having an off day with Morrison.
You guys, I'm just happy I can share that with you. I'm not perfect. Balance is something I am always trying to maintain. I work extremely hard for the things that I want, and that was (and is) no different than where I stand with Morrison and diabetes. But, like I said, I'm just glad to put that out there. I know everyone has their struggles and I know we can share that but so often times we don't (fear of judgement, fear of isolation). We are lucky that way. We share experiences and moments in our lives. We show empathy, we offer sympathy, we offer hugs, we lessen the burden, we connect, we unite, and we grow from hard times. And I'm sorry if I haven't been doing enough of that, yet I am thankful for all of you have constantly reminded me of those things.
So, if you are going through something, whether loneliness, despair, uncertainty, acting like an organ instead of a human being, in an unhealthy relationship (whether with a human or otherwise), or whatever it may be,I know we grow from the hard times, whether solo or together. There's a time and place for everything. While it may be difficult to go through and at times, we may wish we could take all the pain and suffering away, I would never rob you from what you are feeling or what you are experiencing. You are growing, as am I. It is the season of life that you are in, and it's only that---a season. The leaves will change, the air will cool, and just like the changing weather, you will change too, into something better, more beautiful, more knowing. Feel the emotions, let them wash over you, and don't think for one second that this is going to be the ride you're on. It will get better. :)
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