11 September 2013

I choose to



(Image is a white background with black font, different scripts for different lines, stating:
I choose to be
Magnificent
Youthful
Stunning
Excellent
Loverly
Fabulous
I choose to be
MYSELF)
 


10 September 2013

Invisible Illness Awareness Week 2013: 30 Things

It's Invisible Illness Week this week! I stole this list from here (and you should go read the rest of the blog!)

1. The illness I live with is: Type 1 diabetes, depression, sinusoidal tachycardia, PTSD, symptoms of OCD, chronic pain (currently something that no one wants to deal with)

2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: T1D-2002, depression-2006, sinusoidal tachycardia-2006, everything else is currently undiagnosed because my doctors don't want to deal with it

3. But I had symptoms since: T1D-2002, depression-2000, sinusoidal tachycardia-2004, PTSD-1999, symptoms of OCD-since always, chronic pain-2010

4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Learning how to make life doable with each new wrench

5. Most people assume: I'm a lazy, fat person who ate too much sugar as a kid and just needs to try some cinnamon and try harder to be happy

6. The hardest part about mornings are: Finding the motivation to get out from under the covers

7. My favorite medical TV show is: I don't watch medical TV shows

8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: My meter

9. The hardest part about nights are: Getting my mind to shut off to I can fall asleep

10. Each day I take: 9 (I think? I don't count any more and I'm too comfy to go look) 13 (I went and counted and I forgot about another one I take multiple times a day)npills and buttloads of insulin

11. Regarding alternative treatments I: Refuse to try unless there's multiple studies showing benefit. Why waste my money?

12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: To stick with what I know

13. Regarding working and career: I'm looking for work right now. Please hire me. :D

14. People would be surprised to know: I can appear to be extroverted when the circumstances are right

15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: How many people walked out of my life because of these new realities

16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Kick as much ass as I have

17. The commercials about my illness: Are so stereotypical, sometimes I facepalm

18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Not caring about my health and limits

19. It was really hard to have to give up: Attempting to be perfect at everything

20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Activism!

21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Feel really weird, because "normal people" "normal" is just...not going to happen. Ever. It'd be like living in an alien's body for a day.

22. My illness has taught me: My limits

23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: "Can you eat that?" Of course I can...unless you poisoned it. Then you can eat it.

24. But I love it when people: Fight with me against all the hateful ignorance

25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: You are not alone

26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: You are not alone

27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: The more things change, the more they stay the same. Another 5-10 years, waiting for results.

28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Let me rest and help me get what I needed to feel well again.

29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Voices of all of us with invisible illnesses need to be heard

30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Grateful for you time!

04 September 2013

Low

I can't piece words together, not in any eloquent way, anyway. It's like my brain was suddenly told to move as slowly as frozen molasses in the middle of winter. I try grasping for words, for concepts, but they float away, slipping through my fingers. But for some reason, just about everything is hilarious, until you tell me to shut up. Then my brain completely shuts down.

My skin is clammy, crawling. My body feels like it's encased in a million tons of lead. My very essence, however, feels lighter than air, like if someone just gentle blew on me, I'd float away. I guess that's where the heavy armor comes in, otherwise I might ride away on a gentle breeze.

My heart thuds in my chest like I've been running a marathon. It vibrates my rib cage, trying to leap out.

My hands tremble as if every movement I make could be the decision between life and death. Between the trembling and the clammy hands, I can't open anything. Whoever thought up those safety seals for the liquid glucose drinks obviously never tested these things with people who were low. I mean, I can barely get them open half the time without the help of sharp objects when I'm normal.

My body just wants to slouch and fall over, its weight becoming too much.

The thought of food makes me sick, but I shove it in as fast as I can. It's pure panic. I can't taste anything, but I get the texture. And yes, chalky isn't just a flavor.

Slowly, surely, my body begins to feel real again. I feel myself settling back into my body, my heart slowing, my muscles strengthening, my mind clearing. Words that were no where near on the tip of my tongue are starting to come easily. There's warmth in my hands, which are shaking less than before. I can finally hold a glass of liquid without spilling it everywhere. I can taste what I ate before. Oh god, why did I think that was a wise food combination.

I feel hungover, at least, people tell me this is what a hangover feels like. I feel exhausted, like I ran that marathon my heart thought we were running, but without moving an inch.

My hands, my fingers...it still feels like someone else is moving them, my body not quite my own again. While the words come more easily, while I can communicate more or less what I mean, there is no character to what I say. My clothes are soaked from sweat, my hair also damp.

My body slowly comes to rest at normal, my mind always reaching "normal" last.

Let's not do that again any time soon.