Yesterday after work I stopped by my local Co-Op to grab some food for dinner and the weekend. Granted I was tired after a very long week and a bit stressed over the whole darn thing, but as I walked the aisles I realized I was afraid of food - so many many things I'm "not supposed to eat."
Of course, with carb counting the reality is I can eat it all appropriately and deliberately. As I drove home, other emotions were finally beginning to bubble up, namely anger and sadness.
We've all heard of the four stages of grieving - denial, anger, bargaining, acceptance. It is more common now to think of working through all four at once - bouncing from one to another and back again. My "fear of food" is part of my denial streak - the "I will beat this" mentality. I don't mean I will beat this and be a good patient - I mean I will beat this and make it go away.
My head and heart are battling out - of course I mean my emotional self and my rational self - when asked how long I will be on the medicine and such - I logically answer that whether or not I am on insulin or oral medication, I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life. The more I emotionally process that, however, the more upset I get.
I hate feeling restricted and it takes many forms. For the present, the simple thought of not having the choice drives me a bit bonkers. Yet as I was running errands today I thought about my job. I am required to carry a pager for half the month--usually a week on and a week off. When I am having to carry the pager, my activities are restricted, and, yet, I don't feel that pinch. I've gotten used to it and it comes with the job which has many other perks.
I have been receiving wonderful support from cyber friends and local friends and family. I am not feeling overwhelmed by this. However, I'm not happy about it. I am determined to be off insulin within a month or so and off oral meds by the end of a year. My body's response to insulin for now appears to support this plan. I will have to begin getting my ass off the metaphorical couch. I have purchased two cans of Deep Woods Off so that I have no excuse for riding my bicycle or going for a walk with the dogs (I loathe mosquitoes and this season has been particularly bad).
I catch myself whining that it's not fair - but what the hell is fair? I survived the 1980's somehow and have lived to battle with diabetes today. I can put together quite a list of names of friends and acquaintances who would be glad to be alive today with only diabetes to worry about. In fairness to myself that way of thinking is a bit of the "oh get over it - you think you have it bad" stuff. We so like to compare apples to oranges in order to deny ourselves the right to feel badly.
As with so many aspects of our lives, I will apply the rules of the Big Blue Book and Scarlett O'Hara to this situation too. I will only think about today - today I will get some exercise; today I will watch my carbohydrate intake; today I will take my medication. I won't worry about tomorrow - tomorrow is another day. One day at a time - it dovetails nicely with my intentions to live in the moment. Peace all.
Of course, with carb counting the reality is I can eat it all appropriately and deliberately. As I drove home, other emotions were finally beginning to bubble up, namely anger and sadness.
We've all heard of the four stages of grieving - denial, anger, bargaining, acceptance. It is more common now to think of working through all four at once - bouncing from one to another and back again. My "fear of food" is part of my denial streak - the "I will beat this" mentality. I don't mean I will beat this and be a good patient - I mean I will beat this and make it go away.
My head and heart are battling out - of course I mean my emotional self and my rational self - when asked how long I will be on the medicine and such - I logically answer that whether or not I am on insulin or oral medication, I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life. The more I emotionally process that, however, the more upset I get.
I hate feeling restricted and it takes many forms. For the present, the simple thought of not having the choice drives me a bit bonkers. Yet as I was running errands today I thought about my job. I am required to carry a pager for half the month--usually a week on and a week off. When I am having to carry the pager, my activities are restricted, and, yet, I don't feel that pinch. I've gotten used to it and it comes with the job which has many other perks.
I have been receiving wonderful support from cyber friends and local friends and family. I am not feeling overwhelmed by this. However, I'm not happy about it. I am determined to be off insulin within a month or so and off oral meds by the end of a year. My body's response to insulin for now appears to support this plan. I will have to begin getting my ass off the metaphorical couch. I have purchased two cans of Deep Woods Off so that I have no excuse for riding my bicycle or going for a walk with the dogs (I loathe mosquitoes and this season has been particularly bad).
I catch myself whining that it's not fair - but what the hell is fair? I survived the 1980's somehow and have lived to battle with diabetes today. I can put together quite a list of names of friends and acquaintances who would be glad to be alive today with only diabetes to worry about. In fairness to myself that way of thinking is a bit of the "oh get over it - you think you have it bad" stuff. We so like to compare apples to oranges in order to deny ourselves the right to feel badly.
As with so many aspects of our lives, I will apply the rules of the Big Blue Book and Scarlett O'Hara to this situation too. I will only think about today - today I will get some exercise; today I will watch my carbohydrate intake; today I will take my medication. I won't worry about tomorrow - tomorrow is another day. One day at a time - it dovetails nicely with my intentions to live in the moment. Peace all.
2 comments:
I wish you the best. Mark
Thanks, Mark.
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