I’ve been flitting in and out of the blogosphere wondering what to write about. I haven’t had any strokes of brilliance or grand epiphanies related to my struggles with weight, diabetes, or even enjoying life. I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to important to say.
I have, though, gotten lost. I feel as though I’m swimming in a huge river, where the water is too deep and the shore keeps getting further and further away. All those images of rock solid abs and beautiful A1c’s drifting out of my reach.
I gained weight once I started basal/bolus insulin therapy in earnest. About 17 pounds to be exact. I’ve lost motivation. I stopped caring about my calorie and carb totals for the day. I stopped running.
Friends, I think I’ve nosedived right into burn out again.
I’m the type of person who finds it hard to stick with with a project. Whether that project be sticking to a disciplined study schedule, exercising every day, or keeping up with the housework, I just can’t seem to see it all the way through.
This is a problem, but it’s different now that it was before.
Before when I failed a diet plan, I simply remained fat. That was it. Yes, every pound gained was another failure, and drove another nail into my self esteem’s coffin, but I wasn’t at an immediate risk for anything .
Now, I’ve gained weight and I’ve been neglecting any sort of health plan aside from bolusing for carbs and taking my other medications. I’ve strayed back into old binge-eating habits a few times, and even skipped testing my pre/post meal blood sugars several times in the past few weeks.
Unlike before, if I fail to take care of myself not only will I continue to put the weight back on, I am setting the stage for some debilitating complications.
But it’s so hard.
It’s so difficult to grasp what might happen because it’s so far down the line. It’s so hard to say no to that Halloween doughnut B brings home from work. So hard to drag out my logbook and kit and test, test, test. So hard to force myself to go out for a run when I just feel physically and mentally exhausted. When I feel it’s time to just give up, roll over, and let the vultures have me.
(I swear, I don’t actually have vultures milling around my home waiting for me to kick the bucket.)
It’s difficult to accept that you have to do things differently than before. This is true of any change one tries to make. That’s the only thing I envy of B. He was diagnosed with diabetes 11 years ago. To him, this process is simply the reality of his life. Of our lives.
It hasn’t sunk in yet. After 3 years it hasn’t sunk in. This is reality.
Today I can’t say that I’ve accomplished much other than write this, but I hope this is a step in the right direction. I hope someone else who’s burning out sees that it happens to all of us. Perhaps more often for some than others.
I’m working on it.