Whenever I tell people I have diabetes, they often respond with āomg! I donāt know how you do it! I could never deal with that, youāre so brave/strong/incredible!ā And I usually say āoh itās not a big deal. Iām used to it!ā And thatās not necessarily a lie. I think I am used to it. Iāve been going through the motions for almost 24 years. 8,760 days. 210,240 hours. 12,614,400 minutes. And most of the days, hours, minutes I do feel like Iām used to it.
But the nights always feel different. When my low alarm goes off and I quietly drag my limp body out of bed trying not to wake the rest of the house as they sleep soundly. When I linger to the kitchen and grab a juice box, fumbling it in my hand and haphazardly trying to get that dang straw in the seemingly impossibly small hole. As I lean over the counter and try to keep myself afloat and pray I donāt fall asleep standing up. Those are the moments I often question if I really will ever get used to this. I question why ME? Why was I chosen to be the person that has to deal with this at 3 am while everyone else gets to sleep soundly not worrying about chugging sugar while half asleep literally just to keep themselves alive? It all seems so unfair in those moments. I feel like the only person in the world standing there right that second dealing with the repercussions of a disease I did absolutely nothing to obtain. But thereās always one small thing that I remind myself. Iām NOT the only one dealing with it. At that exact moment that Iām standing there drinking a juice box in the dark, I can bet that thereās another diabetic somewhere standing in their kitchen gulping a juice with me. This disease can feel so very lonely, but we truly are never alone. So next time you feel like youāre standing in your kitchen by yourself, just remember Iām probably right there with youš