I’m partaking in this year’s Diabetes Blog Week. Each post this week will be based on a pre-determined prompt constructed by Karen over at Bittersweet Diabetes. You can participate by visiting her website.
Throwback Thursday: What Brings Me Down – Thursday 5/18
Today let’s revisit a prompt from 2014 – May is Mental Health Month so now seems like a great time to explore the emotional side of living with, or caring for someone with, diabetes. What things can make dealing with diabetes an emotional issue for you and/or your loved one, and how do you cope? (Thanks again to Scott for this 2014 topic.)
I often refer to spoon theory when it comes to breaking down the mental side of living with a chronic condition. If you aren’t familiar with spoon theory, it’s basically how much energy I can devote on a daily basis to all aspects of survival. E.G. diabetes, working, parenting, etc.
Most days, I fortunate to have enough spoons to complete my daily responsibilities. Some days, I’m pulling the energy from my ass and I barely make it through until my child’s bedtime. I won’t bother opening a bottle of wine on those nights because that would require me to 1) open a bottle and 2) calculate the effects of one 4 oz glass of wine on my current blood sugar with the amount of insulin I have on board. (See, not worth it.)
The most trying days are usually when I can’t seem to get my toddler and my blood sugars on coordinating breakdown schedules. Bean seems to know when mommy needs juice or a snack and it’s precisely when the whining starts. Usually, my husband is around to soothe the toddler while I retreat in my haze. But, since lows happen whenever they may, sometimes we are at the store, in the car, anywhere inconvenient.
The worst are the sustained lows that take forever to recover. I often feel like I can’t address my daughter’s concerns or problem, no matter how trivial, if I’m too busy pulling myself out of a low.
And I get it. Taking care of myself means I’m a better parent. No one wants a car crash. She’ll understand later. But there is something disheartening about listening to your child cry while waiting for those numbers to creep up. The screams are louder. The insatiable hunger is more intense. The urgency is greater but I’m at the will of my own body’s response. It’s unnerving.
I usually end those days with -3 spoons left at my disposal – usually sitting on the couch aimlessly flipping through social media or watching recorded television. And those spoons don’t come back. I can’t bank them and save them for a bad day. I start the next day with the same amount of spoons as the previous day. Rinse. Repeat.
Not all days are like this. Most days, my daughter is a gem and I have great support at home. Most days, my blood sugars behave. Most days, I have spoons to spare. The challenge is not focusing on the days I lose all of my spoons, but it’s hard to just not give a fork.