I wrote this last night when I was really tired and all these things were true. I'm okay today, except for some itchy eyes, but the fact that I couldn't find my Delica this morning and had to use one of the old painful things reminded me of how I felt.
Sometimes I want to throw everything into a corner and cover it up with a blanket so I can just forget.
Like when I have to change my site twice within two hours because the first newly-put-in one decided to come off as the sticky chemicals refused to adhere to my arm - that's annoying. And, apparently, worth a cry.
And I'm at that point in time where camp is close (less than 70 days!) but so far away, when I seem to have lost contact with my diabetes buddies, when I haven't been to the clinic in three months (I know that that's how long it's supposed to be between visits, but it's been way too long for me because I love the hospital and I really want to see my doctors), where I haven't talked diabetes with somebody who understands in ages, and where I can't stand this feeling alone.
Sometimes I want to cry. I know that I can if I want, but nobody will understand. I know they try hard, but they really can't understand it completely. And now I'm crying because right now I just want to be rid of this thing. It's always in the way no matter how small it claims to be.
This day started out so good - why did one little thing hurt so much?
And now I have to go find a box of tissues because it just. Won't. Go. Away.
Sometimes it's really hard to say that diabetes isn't who I am.