Growing Up

Growing Up

Growing up is realizing that nothing gets easier, you just have more tools under your belt. For instance, with Type one diabetes I would love to say that over the many years of the roller coaster ride, I have figured out how to manage it, but I don't. I don't know because every low is different, every high is different. Every single little thing plays a major role in what happens next. One of the hardest things about type one is fighting the urge to give up. It's not the shots, it's not the 3 am low blood sugar wake-up calls, it's not the finger pricks or the site changes. It is not knowing if what you are about to do is going to kill you or not. I have fallen into a rut, I know what I am supposed to do, so I do it, but it doesn't work. So I end up feeling sick and then depressed because I feel like I am falling myself. I am the type of person who looks for an A and strives for perfection, But that's nowhere near what type one is about. Type one is full of imperfection. It's not a simple math formula to figure out, but instead, it's this twisted turn of events that is always changing. Over the years I have gotten many comments about my type one, well you know you can cure it all you need is cinnamon, yoga, celery, and a change of mindset. Like I am sorry but last time I checked changing my mindset eating cinnamon and doing yoga will not help me regain my beta cells.

After all of these years my favorite one is when someone pulls out the  My mom's best friend's teacher cat has type one I know all about it. Now I have gotten this one many times just at different variations. Now I have gotten better at handling the comments but sometimes they rub me the wrong way. Every once in a while I will realize that I have a disease and that something is wrong with me. I have known this forever. I know I have a disease but sometimes the feeling hits a little too close to home. As much as those moments are hard they are also eye-opening because oh my gosh I have been keeping myself alive for years doing jobs that I was never meant to do. I am a pancreas, I am a mathematician (when it comes to diabetes), and most importantly I am me. I have been handling my diabetes on top of owning a business, on top of doing school, on top of trying to just be a teenager for a minute before it all goes away. I truly don't know how I do it all when I think about it, how I can handle high stress all the time. One of the things that type one has given me is my fake smile. It's the smile I use when I feel terrible and my diabetes isn't cooperating. It's my mask. I hate it because I feel like I am trying to be someone I am not. In other ways, I like it because it helps me feel less of a burden on people. Yes, they contradict themselves but it's true. I have learned that showing my emotions the way I feel just makes me feel worse because others around me ask if I am ok or what's wrong. I think that is my most dreaded question because no one except for another type one understands what I mean when I say I am high. I feel high. Trying to explain the way I feel to people is like trying to lead a horse to water. You can lead them there but it doesn't mean they will drink. I can tell people all I want to try to make them understand but they don't, because they don't live with it. Growing up has made me love who I am because look at me I am doing everything that everyone else does but I did it with

Type One Diabetes.