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Wednesday, December 28, 2016

I can't tell you I'm fine. I can't give you the answer you want to hear.

I'm sorry that, earlier today, when you asked how I was (like you always do), that I couldn't just say 'I'm fine'.

I know that's what you want to hear. It's what I should tell you because you don't need to worry about me and it's the easiest way to explain how I am.

But today it just wasn't true enough. I know you want and need to hear that I am fine, but I can't lie to you either.

My blood sugars are fine. My A1C is fine. My actual physical control is fine.

But I'M not fine.

I'm tired. I'm tired of dealing with this, I'm tired of trying to describe 'fine'. No, that low is fine, it's under control. No, that high is fine, it'll come down soon. No, that low's not fine, and I know the rest of them were, but this time it's not, okay? But don't ask me if I'm okay, because I'm not, just don't ask me to do anything. No, I can't tell you what 'in-range' is because I'm drunk and you're drunk and despite that I know what I'm doing and I just want to be a normal teenager for once, okay? I'm tired of seeing the shock on people's faces when they realize that I have to account for every morsel of food I put into my mouth. I'm tired of trying to describe why this is hard to handle. I'm tired of trying to explain, to myself and to others, why the comments they make hurt. I do get grumpy when I'm low. So why does someone else pointing that out make me mad?

Seven years is hitting me really, really hard. I hate the thought that this is going to be a part of my life all through school, and all through my career, and someday I'm going to be a mum who's part robot. And in twenty and twenty-five and fifty years I will still have diabetes.
I don't know what's changed. I mean, everything has changed, but you'd think that seven years into diabetes and eight months into working with a new health care team I'd have it sorted.

I'm scared. I'm scared of complications. I'm scared that I won't wake up from a low. I'm scared that I won't feel a low and that the situation will go downhill fast. I'm scared to ask for help. I'm scared that I will become so reliant on a CGM that I'll lose all the understanding I have of myself. I'm scared that I'll never work up the courage to take a pump break like I so desperately want to. I'm scared that I'll spend so much time thinking about diabetes that I'll miss out on life. I'm scared that I will continue to test upwards of fifteen times a day and I still won't be able to figure it all out.
Mental health in nursing students is already not good. Throwing diabetes into the mix doesn't seem like a good idea. I am scared that mental health issues and potential crises lie in my future, and I want to prevent them to the extent that I am able to. But I am also scared of a) admitting something's wrong, b) asking for help, and c) trying to deal with something that could very well just be stress and life.

I'm not fine. I'm not sure that I'm able to admit that out loud to a person yet, but I think admitting it to myself is the first step.

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