Through A Window

Hey y'all!

So, uh... yeah, I really don't have an excuse for why it's been so long since my last post.  Just life, ya know?  School and tennis and homework and aaaah I'm super busy and I've neglected this little blog, which I feel really bad about.  I promise I'm gonna try to post more often now!  Let's jump right in, because I've got a lot to say today.

First of all--HAPPY DIABETES AWARENESS MONTH!  Yeah, you read that right: we get an entire month all to ourselves!  Pretty great, in my opinion.  Most of the talk this month will be geared towards people with T2D, since there's a whole lot more of them and they're generally an older demographic with a wider platform.  So here's a shoutout to all my T1 folks.  Y'all are amazing and strong and perfect and I love you and this community we share!

And that brings me to my other point for this post.  The DOC loves Diabetes Awareness Month, because it's a time when most of us feel something we don't feel very often: visible.  But there's a difference between feeling visible and feeling seen.  For PWD, that distinction becomes even more crystal-clear when the world starts talking about "diabetes prevention" through exercise and healthy diets and all the things that will never, ever, be relevant to our condition.  And when November ends and the rest of the world--even that small percentage that takes the time to care about Type 1 specifically--goes back to their ordinary lives, we're left just as alone as we were before.

Living with a chronic illness--any chronic illness--is profoundly isolating.  My family, my closest friends, even my care team who helps me manage my condition, will never know what it's like to live with this condition every day, just as I'll never understand the experiences of my friends who live with other chronic illnesses.  The thing that's impossible to convey about T1D is that it never goes away, never goes quiet or still, even for a second.  Between insulin doses and CGM checks, it's still here.

When I turned 9 years old, I made a secret wish.  I didn't tell anyone, not even my parents or my twin brother, because I knew my wish was impossible.  But when I blew the candles out on my pink-frosted cake, I wished that I could have just one day--just 24 short hours--without T1D.  One day of being normal.  One day of being free.

I'm still waiting for that wish to come true.  And in the meantime, I've found my condition putting up a wall between myself and everyone around me, isolating me in a world that they can never truly experience.  The wall comes up at random moments, catching me off-guard: on Halloween night, 46 and dropping fast while trick-or-treating with my friends, removed from the fun they were having while I silently struggled to stay on my feet.  Before a band concert, facing the internal struggle of whether or not to bring my med kit onstage with me, knowing I'll regret whatever choice I make because I'm choosing between my health and my momentary freedom.  Sometimes it's physically isolating, too, like standardized tests when I'm sent to a private room so I can keep my CGM turned on.  But all the time, whether I'm physically present or not, there's something keeping me separate from those around me, watching through a window that I can never break.

Don't get me wrong--I don't let T1D keep me from being happy.  More than half my life has been spent adapting to this condition and finding success despite it.  But ever now and then, I'm reminded that other folks don't have to haul around this particular burden the way I do.  Some of my amazing friends take the time to step into my world for a few seconds, asking about my bg levels and helping me when I need it, and that means more that I could ever express.  But in the end, the window stays closed.  It always does.

This year, during Diabetes Awareness Month, I'm asking y'all to reach out to your loved ones with T1D and take the time to listen.  And when the month ends, continue to listen, because our condition doesn't go away when the calendar changes.

To my fellow PWD--I love y'all more than you know.  You're not alone, even if it feels like you are.  Don't be afraid to tell the world what we face every single day.