Burnt out.

Tired of testing, bolusing, calculating, exercising, eating, and caring.  If I was less Kerri, I would toss it in, go pick up a cheesecake with strawberry topping, and eat the whole thing in my Jetta.  No fork – just digging my hands into it and getting cake all over my pretty ring.

Ah, just thinking about it makes me feel fat and happy.

However, I am very Kerri.  And instead of viewing diabetes as my arch nemesis, I need to view it as my partner.  A business associate?  My sidekick?  The Gromit to my silly, smiling Wallace.  Diabetes can’t be changed.  It can’t be hated, either.

Instead, I tolerate it.Me and my sidekick.

This is reality.  My Gromit is going to stay with me for the rest of my life, barring a cure.  Anger doesn’t do much for me in the long run.  Frustrations ebb and flow but in reality, those moments of burnout are fleeting.  For me, it’s about acceptance.  Healing.  And realizing that it’s okay to make mistakes.

Diabetes is a difficult journey.  Anyone who tells you differently is just scared to face the reality of it.  It is not a forgiving disease.  It is something that must be monitored and maintained at all times, at all costs.  It doesn’t matter if you are shopping for your wedding dress – you must take into account where the pump will hide.  And Happy Birthday to you, but if you have cake, you still need to test your blood sugar and take insulin to cover the cake.
It’s living life on a see-saw.  Some days you are way up high and other days have you almost in the dirt, both literally and figuratively.  The constant fluctuations of blood sugars are just that – constant.  The aim of diabetes management is to have that see-saw perfectly balanced so that neither side is tipped in any way.

Admittedly, it is a nearly impossible feat to accomplish and still have a life worth working so hard for.  Quailty vs. quantity is the life-long debate.I would give it up if I could.  I would send it back from whence it came without a single thought.

Diabetes doesn’t define me.  It never will.

But I can’t let myself hate it, because it is a part of me.  A part that I work so hard to maintain.  And to hate one single part of me could become an infectious disease that bores its way into my psyche.  I am living with diabetes.  And I will continue to live successfully for as long as I can.

So, Gromit.  (Dia-Gromit?)  It’s you and me.  We’re in this together.Let’s go get some cheese.  It’s low-carb, after all.

Ready to call a truce.
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