josie-rambles

Something they don’t tell you when you become chronically ill is all the guilt.

I feel guilty because people have to take care of me sometimes.

I feel guilty that they have to deal with listening to me complain about my latest hospital visit.

I feel guilty that I have to cancel plans.

I feel guilty that I cost so much money.

I feel guilty that I can’t always make it to class, or I leave early, or I can barely pay attention.

I feel guilty when my profs let it slide and I end up passing when I know I didn’t do nearly enough.

I feel guilty that I haven’t been able to get a job.

I feel guilty that, because I don’t have a job, my boyfriend and friends often pay for me when we go out.

Being chronically ill doesn’t just mean feeling like shit physically. It’s feeling like shit emotionally because it drags other people into your shit.


I dunno, maybe I’m being overly dramatic because I haven’t been able to get myself to eat today

I feel like the Unova gym leaders are so much more close than the other region’s gym leaders. During Black & White, they all met up and thought of ways to deal with Team Plasma, and even at the end of the game they all come together at N’s Castle to help. I don’t really see that in other regions, I think it’s so sweet

but stevebucky au where they’re both teachers at a school and all the students ship them

and so they’d be talking to each other when they hear a snap and a lot of giggling

and the next day there’s pictures all over the school of the two of them leaning dangerously close to each other

and mr rogers and mr barnes are sO blushy and embarrassed and there’s so much giggling everywHere

Just one of those nights.

So I was about to fall asleep. I was finally in bed and I’m starting to drift off when I feel my blood move a little differently. No, please no. I just want to sleep. I turn over and try to hope that it’s nothing. Or that it’s not bad enough to wake me. Soon I start shaking and I reluctantly haul myself out of bed and down the stairs to make myself bleed.

The meter says 89. That’s not so bad, I have some nice soft cookies waiting for me and I’ll be asleep in no time… Right? I grab a few cookies and eat them in the dark before snuggling back into my bed. Soft and warm and safe.

… And then the shaking gets worse. And I can feel the beating of my heart and the blood as it runs through my veins. I let out a sound, somewhere between a whimper of “why now?” and a growl of “goddammit” before pulling away from the comfort of my blankets.

This time the meter says 66. For fuck’s sake. I go to the kitchen to find something more substantial. The tremors in my hands would be noticeable from the other room by now. But there’s no one up to see. It’s 3:30am. Again.

Looking in the fridge, the first thing I see is the pop. Liquid carbs, would be absorbed quickly. No, that has caffeine, I don’t want to be awake any longer than I have to. By now my stomach has gone from the “nice and satiated” it was 20 minutes ago to “I haven’t eaten in days”. I pull some taquitos out of the freezer and throw them into the microwave. I try to ignore my body screaming at me as I wait for them to heat up. My doctors say it’s important to be patient and measured when dealing with a low. Well it’s hard to be measured when you body is yelling “IF YOU DON’T DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW YOU ARE GOING TO DIE”. I know it’s being melodramatic but it’s effective.My brain steps back and lets my body take over.

I start to cry as I grab a pop and almost choke because I try to drink it so fast. I burn my mouth because I eat the taquitos too fast. I feel like I might throw up because I barely chew. Eventually I start to slow down and I begin to feel ashamed. How high am I going to be in the morning? I put my plate down and I begin to write this note.

Some nights I can just go through the motions. Test. Eat. Go back to bed. This is not one of those nights. Some nights I fall apart. Some nights I make myself sick trying to get better. Some nights I wish for nothing more than someone to hold me and tell me I’ll be alright. This is just one of those nights.

I kinda want to make another tumblr account

One where all I do is go on the “diabetes” tag and then ask folks who tag like a piece of cake saying “lol diabetes”, to kindly not do so and give them some educational material on what diabetes is

EDIT: the first thing that came up on the diabetes tag after I wrote this was “I’m surprised i haven’t got diabetes yet” with #candy, #mmm, and #sugar