I looked at my blood sugars in the last few weeks and my worst response was my lack of response. In reviewing the numbers, my brain only shrugged in apathy.
A year or two ago, I would have looked at the dwindling number of finger sticks and the creeping trend of high numbers and been very, “Whoa. What is going on here, and how can I stop it?” The rational, tuned-in part of my mind would fire up like the boiler in my old house did, whirring to life in a flurry of noise and action and suddenly I’d be warm and en route to taking control.
Trouble is, I think my boiler blew out. I just don’t give a fuck at the moment. I slipped without meaning to.
I used to be able to detect this slippery slide into giving-less-of-a-fuck a bit better. There were warning signs that made me take notice and then take action. But this time, it’s not burnout that I’m feeling. I don’t think it’s burnout, anyway. And it’s not depression, or at least it doesn’t feel like it did a few years ago when I had trouble finding my footing. This feels a little different, more like exhaustion than anything else. I’m having trouble finding balance (ironic) in managing diabetes, work, motherhood, and marriage. The travel on both sides of the family businesses has been especially manic, leaving a lot of random, loose ends flapping in the breeze.
Blah, blah, blah, life, life, life, right?
But they aren’t random loose ends. For me, the frayed bits are my health management habits. And I’m not focusing on the right things. My laundry is washed, folded, and put away but my finger sticks have dwindled down to two or three per day. I’m bolusing off my CGM way too often, but the floors are swept. Birdy’s book bag is ready for school every morning, complete with a note in her lunchbox, but I’m not checking my fasting blood sugar until she’s already on the bus for school (two hours after waking up, mind you).
This is not cool. This is not good. And this feels both irresponsible and stupid.
Which, in turn, makes me feel irresponsible and stupid.
I have no idea what my A1C is. I haven’t had it checked in four months. I need to schedule an appointment to have my eyes looked at in efforts to keep tabs on the macular edema, but I haven’t made that phone call, either. The diabetes to do list is painting me into a bit of a corner, and I’m having trouble stepping onto the wet paint.
But this morning, when I sat down to work, I realized that this feeling of defeat was keeping me from wanting to do anything. I didn’t want to write. I didn’t want to work on booking travel or on presentations I have to give. My mind kept jumping to the next distraction, the next thing that would keep me from acknowledging that my disease, this serious health condition, was being mismanaged by me at the moment.
Something has to change. And it doesn’t appear that my pancreas will be making insulin any time soon. So I need to be much better about paying attention to my diabetes care. The cyclical nature of my diabetes apathy is such that it comes and goes without much warning and is hard to prevent. But that doesn’t mean I can surrender to it fully. Because I like being alive and well, and I’d like to continue to be alive and well. So hang on … let me do some quick follow through for a minute …
… I’ve just called my endocrinologist to make an appointment, and in the meantime I’ve asked for lab orders to be sent to my local lab so I can have an A1C run closer to home. I need to know where I stand, and how I can move forward. I’ve also called and scheduled another eye dilation to have my eyeball status checked. And the last phone call was to my medical supply company to reorder some supplies.
Tomorrow, I won’t change everything. I’m still tired. Still tired of diabetes and ashamed that I’ve let other health focus points take my attention away to such a degree. But I need to change something. And the first thing I decided to change was the idea that I need to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden away. I’m struggling something fierce these days – have been for a while – and I needed to say it out loud in order to push me to actually do something about it.
So I’m doing something. I might end up tracking that wet paint all over the house, but at least I won’t have my back up against the wall anymore.
I think we all go through this? This disease sucks.
I hear you, you are not alone! Recently I’ve noticed trends know how to fix it but just simply haven’t. It just dawned on me that the solutions are there if I pay attention and act. I need to do it sooner. Hopefully we will work on it! It is difficult and sometimes it’s therapeutic to say FUCK IT! No really try it 1,2,3 FUCK IT! See I told you it would help! Now go and do the best you can!
You are always brave to bare your soul before the world. Each of your “transgressions” is so small, but I understand how the total of them can lead to feelings of slacking off.
One thing for sure that you haven’t slacked off on is exercise! I think we need to combine a Fitbit Challenge, Healthy Food Challenge, and diabetes challenge where we earn points (or a 1,000 step bonus) for things like BG checks, food diaries, changing pump sets, and scheduling doctor appointments in addition to meeting our personal step goals. Your competitive nature would get you back on track with diabetes in no time!
Hope you get back to where you want to be:-)
Over on GLU on Monday, the survey question was, “which complication of diabetes are you most reluctant to talk about with your healthcare provider?”
The top two answers? (at the time I was looking at the question)
1) Mental Health Issues
2) Sexual Function Issues
Before I made a comment about it, there was not ONE comment about mental health issues. Then I went to watch John Oliver’s “Last Week Tonight.” One of the main topics he talked about was how poorly organized and implemented our mental health system is this country.
If we, as diabetics who live with a 24-hour and eight day a week disease, can’t talk about mental health issues, that’s crazy! Some may not be able to be so frank about where they are, but we need to be discussing it. Thanks for a bit of synchronicity.
I’m so sorry that you’re struggling. 🙁
U huh! I’m nodding my head. I get where you are at. I get it. I was there a few weeks ago. Down in the “I don’t give a …”.
A few weeks ago, I had a chat with a friend of mine who invited me out to lunch because he notice a change the tone of my postings to Facebook. That talk got me out of that “wet paint space” and into action.
I hope you find the energy to dry your paint.
Thank you Kerri, for you as-usual honesty and openness about life w Diabetes. You are still (probably even more so) inspiring. Thank you for sharing your ups, and downs.
After keeping extraordinarily tight control while pregnant with my son 11 months ago, after he was born I let things slide because I didn’t “HAVE” to be so careful… Unfortunately that had turned into the same type of thing… Testing 2-3 times a day and basing decisions on the CGM out of pure laziness. I saw my endorsement today and sure enough, my a1c was definitely not where I wanted it to be. I went into the appointment, though, knowing that I was ready to make some changes and get back on track. But I completely understand where you’re at!
My endocrinologist calls this diabetes burnout. I too was done a couple years ago. I’d cry then get mad every time I thought about ordering supplies, testing again, or treating another low or high. Having this disease for 36 years gets tiring. Thank you for your honesty.
Track away Kerri track away! Your footprint painted floor is beautiful! Thank you for letting us follow your footsteps on your journey.
I want you to know my kid took a giant leap today and came clean about the same feelings you just described (only she hasn’t swept the floors). You. And her. I applaud you both today, and anyone else who found the strength to speak up and take a step away from the wall.
Hugya.
Way to go on making that Endo appointment, Kerri. That’s certainly a first step, so kudos for recognizing something needs to be done and stsrting that walk. I know it well myself. Been there, too, and just got back to my endo recently to make some needed changes. Next up, eyes and so on. I’m also taking some self-imposed vacation time to reflect and focus, and get my head into a better place so it’s not D all the time. Think we all get there, to a place that isn’t extreme burnout or even exhaustion IMHO, but just… Balance. This shit doesn’t end, and we need to take a step back and sometimes just let ourselves “be” (cue the Beatles) and not always be on guard. I’ve alays been a fan of what Bill and Joe say, in taking a vacation day where you can not dose or really care 100%, just to rest the mind. They are smart. Anyhow, sorry t hear of the struggling, but sending you vibes and all the best.
So appreciate the sharing. There is kinship in the struggle and your honesty and bravery helps all of us feel less alone. You are doing a Herculean job with a relentless beast of a disease. Hugs.
Thank you for being transparent and vulnerable. You have been inspirational to me, but even moreso now. I get the blues now and then, but as I get older, the apathy is creeping in. It’s good to know I am not the only one. One of my solutions is to ask myself, “do you feel as good now as you have felt in the past?” I want to feel good, and it usually kicks my behind to move a little more, test more frequently, call the eye doctor, and to share how I am feeling with another. Keep on!
Thank you for this Kerry. I am feeling stuck in a couple of areas too and my CDE said something that really helped. Progress not perfection. So I am working for progress. Baby steps for sure, but moving forward is better than wallowing in defeat. Thanks for the reinforcement of this message!
I have felt the same way lately. I just reached my 27th year of dealing with this disease and I have hit a wall. It feels good to say how we feel out loud. I am so glad that I am not the only one that has days, months… where things aren’t as how we hope/ want them to be. Thank you for your honesty and I pray that we both find some motivation and strength to move through this and find our footing again.
Amen infinity.
Thank you for sharing this! I’ve been feeling the same way. I make it to the end of the day and realize I haven’t checked my BG or taken additional insulin and I just don’t care and I haven’t done anything to fix it. I’m not feeling rebellious, just exhausted of thinking about diabetes.
Family, work , life, making coffee……it is All challenging
Type 1 diabetes is More challenging
I read somewhere that if you do what you dislike first on your list for the day, it frees your mind to move on
problem is, the diabetes is hard and we can never move on because it follows us wherever we go.
Hang in there, Kerri !!!
You will be ok =)
I think it’s really important to take a step back sometimes and acknowledge that this disease is ABSURD in what it asks of us.
[…] shrugged, thinking about the difficult last few months. But I was okay. I’d be […]
I wanted to write (((hug))) but remember Sara N. said it means (((humping)))?
Thank you for sharing this.
It means humping?!!!!!! I did not know that.
Thank you for this, it helps me to understand why my 19 yr old daughter who has T1 diabetes since the age of 18 mos. is not taking care of herself.
This is what happens when you over extend yourself. “You have limits, Shelby.” People want too much these days. They don’t fully appreciate what they have and feel the need to fill some mysterious void. Like with getting married, raising a family, having a career, traveling and all that other shit people do they call “living.” There has to come a point in your life you just say “enough is enough.” I have enough on my plate, I’m grateful for what I have and I’m not taking on, anymore. Much as you hate my guts, Miss Kerri, the truth is, you, me, all your readers, we’re all diabetics (and many of us type 1); just BEING type 1 diabetic is a 24-hour a day job. How many jobs can a single human being do… well? How many hours are there in a day? In a lifetime? And how vital is it we keep up our health or we won’t be able to do ANY of it for much longer? When you have type 1 diabetes, Kerri, YOUR HEALTH COMES FIRST! You had T1D way before you had Chris and way before you had your little Bird and way before you had a job or a flight to go on. That was your first priority and it still is. That’s why I don’t recommend type 1s having babies, because to a mother, her baby comes first, no matter what her own health calls for. But, if you neglect yourself for too much longer, you won’t be of any benefit to your family, let along to yourself. In fact, you’ll be a burden. They love you, so they won’t think of you as a burden, but it WILL impact their lives when you go completely blind and need them to test your blood sugar for YOU 12 times a day, and bolus for YOU, 4 times a day, and swap out your old pump set, every few days, and and and… if you don’t declutter your life NOW and start taking better care of your own health and forget all the stupid extras like traveling abroad and doing chores that just don’t matter, you’ll end up disrupting their lives. You’ll live with the shit you bring on yourself; but you won’t be able to live with the shit you bring on them. And THAT will really fuck you up! The only 2 things you need to concentrate fully on right now is 1) your health and 2) your Bird. Nothing else matters. You might think I’m being a bully or I’m keeping you from living, but one day, you’ll understand. I hope it won’t be too late. Take care of yourself, woman!
[…] However, I have to grudgingly admit that the influence of diabetes on my life hasn’t been all garbage, so I’ve dug up some of the gifts in order to work my way out of this patch of wet paint. […]
I’m just now reading this and it is everything. I’m in the same boat… not depression, not burn out, just… apathy. Blah. May the diabetes management force be with you. (And me.)
oh man, yeah. me too.
[…] disruptions. I was motivationally stunted by the anxiety issues, sending me into a messy clump of diabetes apathy. My blood sugars were bouncing. My appetite was confused. My weight was […]