It's not easy to find an image for most blog posts. What can adequately represent diabetes in a single photo? I mean, apart from a train crash or a person screaming. Insulin seems to cover the subject pretty well. I think most people understand what an insulin pen or a vial of Banting Juice means, these days.
It gets more difficult (to choose an image) when talking about the nuances of the condition. I think that's especially true when referring to the mental aspects of diabetes. The screaming person might work? Perhaps not for the subject of todays post; Acceptance.
The seed for this post was planted when I read through a thread on social media. An exasperated person exclaimed "Have I got to do this for the rest of my life". It struck a chord with me, I've been there, I've said the same openly and privately over the last near 40 years.
The first time the daunting reality of type one diabetes gave me a slap in the face was soon after my diagnosis. I had been home for only a day or two when I questioned how long I'll need to have injections for? The answer, from my mum, was truthful - forever. I've written about that story previously, you may have read it if you're a regular reader of my blog posts. Over the years, and probably following momentous diabetes events, I silently consider the condition again and how it is "forever."
Those events? Complications are pretty high on the list. Generally, for me at least, T1D is 99% tedious, 1% terror. Complications are terrifying. If you went to your eye screening and came away with some news that was less than good, and you didn't have a little moment, then I question your humanity. Of course, there are many other examples including kidney problems, heart, etc, but you get the gist. Alongside coming to terms with the burden of this condition, diabetics have to somehow find an acceptance of what might never happen, or what is already happening because of it. Complications really do suck.
I came to an acceptance of my T1D after a very long time. It involved; not hiding it, talking to my peers, ranting on social media, and learning all I could. I even have a Type 1 Diabetic tattoo. I think it's pretty safe to say that I'm alright with this condition being with me forever. "Alright" doesn't mean happy, far from it. I would give all I have to be free of this pissing evil. I know that's unlikely in my lifetime and I don't build up my hopes of a cure.
So, the thread. I recognised the frustration and fear and anger in those words. I recognise how it is all amplified when a doctor, or a badly worded letter, has news that something might be wrong because of your diabetes. That background music is suddenly the dominant noise.
I don't know if acceptance of complications or the prospect of complications is an easy thing to achieve. How do you accept what is terrifying? My own eye complications have been stable for a number of years now. The visual impairment that I was left with took several years, and some poor life choices, to come to terms with. Today, I'm a "it is what it is" type but, just like the disease that caused my VI, I would give all I have to be free of it and to have my old sight restored. Acceptance, being alright with it, does not mean happy with it.
Today is "Blue Monday" - the most depressing day of the year by all accounts. It seems appropriate that blue is associated with diabetes, a condition that undoubtedly causes depression in so many.
If you were affected by any of the words in this blog post, by diabetes, complications, or any aspect of your life today, tomorrow or any day then please seek out support.
If you'd like to support me over the time that I give to others, my online content, or if you'd like some direct support from me then check out these links: