Oh Bother…

Morpheus had asked me to imagine a life without guilt and I was totally unable to, it was like looking at a blank wall; no way over, under, around or through.  Thinking about it more, I’m not even sure I can consider diabetes and guilt as two separate entities any longer.  As we were discussing this, she said that “blank wall” was a sign that we had touched on something important.

She then asked me something that stopped me cold.  I had to ask her again what that question was, I had totally blocked it out… almost instantly.  Yes, I checked my blood sugars, they were fine.  I couldn’t blame a low blood sugar for a little short-term memory loss.

No, the question cut me to the core, I was instantly anxious. That tingly kind of anxious, like a panic attack or adrenaline rush.  I don’t even remember the last time I felt so anxious.  I had to ask her again and as we chatted more, I had to ask her a third time.  It was a question that I did not want to acknowledge.

She asked me why I was bothering to go through all this.

And I was unable to form a thought, to speak a word.  I couldn’t even remember what the question was.  It literally took me two days after the session to remember the question and then I had to leave myself a note so I could write about it.

Even now, as I am thinking about it, I am extremely anxious.  She told me I could leave the problem there, in her office, until next time or I was ready to talk about it.  I did that for a couple of days, but it kept nagging at me, wanting my attention.  I’m trying to give it some now, but all I can really do is describe my reaction to it, the anxiety.  I still can’t really seem to see a path through that blank wall.

I’ve written before about having a “Why Bother” attitude.  Literally, why should I bother with much of anything?

Morpheus helped me see that I had made a choice (I was tempted  to use a capital C there) a few years ago.  It was a difficult one, not the easy path, but the right path to take. It has taken me this long to finally reach a fork in that path.  One signpost points to my safe “Why Bother” path that I have followed and cloaked myself in for as long as I can remember.

The other signpost points down a dark, scary, unknown, rocky trail. It reads “Will Bother”.

© 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

A Life Without Guilt

One of my questions of the week from Morpheus was “How would I act without guilt?”.

I’m not sure… I’m not sure I’m to a point where I can even conceive of that, almost as if it would a total flight of fantasy.  You know, it’s almost like asking me how I would act without diabetes; what would I do with less stress & worry and all the extra time, lifespan, and disposable income?  But not quite…

I think it is possible for me to let go of the guilt I feel.  A lot more possible than a cure, at least  as how things stand now.

I just hope that I can honestly do it.  I am able to game most, if not all, of the multiple question, multiple choice psychological  questionnaires (that whole photographic memory thing).

I hope that I don’t let myself game this.

 © 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

A Disturbing Search

I’ve thought for a long time that every diabetes diagnosis & treatment regimen should include counseling right along with the medications and the medical professionals that will come and go during our lifetime with diabetes.  In fact, that should be the case for any chronic or life-altering health situation.

I’m doing that now and I’ve put myself out here as someone who is clinically depressed and diabetic.  Granted these postings mostly help me, but I also hope that my discussions can help people know it’s OK.  It’s OK to seek help when you or a loved one has diabetes or any other chronic condition for that matter.  Non-health related life-changing events can also use some help sorting out now and again.  That’s OK.

Because, dammit, life is hard enough and diabetes is another layer of stress, anxiety, fear, anger, frustration all rolled up in a little thing we call our lives.

It’s OK.

I’ve always felt as a diabetes advocate I have a responsibility to tell it like it is and to show that you don’t need to be a “perfect” patient to have a long, fulfilling life.   Depression has always sapped that “fulfilling” portion of my life and that is what I want to change now.

Putting it all out here about mental health is uncomfortable, not merely because I am searching for and looking at things that I spent 4 decades hiding from.  And it’s not merely because I am discussing some things that are very personal & private to me in a very open space.  It’s not because there is such a stigma associated with mental health.

Without really intending to, I seem to have moved into a mental health advocacy role as well. And that’s truly uncomfortable because someone, someone I may influence, found my blog using the search phrase:

decided to let diabetes kill me

That’s not OK with me.  I wish I had a way to reach out through that search phrase and find that person.  Try to tell them they are not alone, that what they are feeling is normal, and hopefully help them find what they need.  If you are reading this now, please talk with someone, anyone, even me.  Because it is OK.

I had kind of liked how I was writing about all this, it was helping me put some order to the jumble of thoughts and emotions that are part of this journey.  That search phrase is making me question my approach though.  I guess Morpheus and I will have a topic of discussion next time.

And that’s OK too.

 © 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

Stop SOPA and PIPA

Please click thru to read Gizmodo’s great explanation of what the House bill SOPA, and it’s Senate counter-part, PIPA, are.  They are incredibly dangerous pieces of legislation to the freedoms that we currently enjoy on the Internet.

After reading about it, please click over to Google’s Take Action page where you can sign a petition showing that you are against this assault by the US government, pushed heavily by the MPAA and RIAA.

There is another site with even more information at Stop American Censorship, check it out

* image credit: Gizmodo http://gizmodo.com/5877000/what-is-sopa

 © 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

Managing Diabetes AKA An Exercise in Failure?

As I was talking with Morpheus last week, my weekly question to think about was something along the lines of “How are you able to treat some “failures” as a “learn from it and move on” experience and yet treat other “failures” with guilt and shame?”

The first thought that came to mind is that diabetes management is often an exercise in failure.  Of the 15 or so things that can affect glucose levels, we can realistically only control 3 or 4… insulin, exercise, food and to a certain extent, stress.  And being human we will make mistakes, or get sick, miscount carbs.  And then we may forget to bolus or have a infusion site that just isn’t working.  Oh, and let’s not forget about those WTF days where nothing seems to work right for no discernible reason.

Being able to learn and move on may be one of the most important life skills that a diabetic can posses.  Of course, we can’t always do that…  Sometimes we get burned out, sad, frustrated, and/or downright angry at times when dealing with diabetes.

So why can’t I apply that same “learn and move on” mindset to other things in my life as well?  Things that I view as “failures”?  I would imagine that some of those things were times when I have hurt or let down others, people who were trusting me.

Getting past the guilt will be easier if I can just say I’m sorry to some of these people, but many of those things happened in college… 30 years ago.   I’ve tried now and again to track some people down, but with no luck.

So what do I do now?  Is it as simple as saying to myself “Self, you effed up, but it’s been a long time and you may be the only person who even gives a damn any more”?

Unfortunately, I suspect it will be much harder than that.  Knowing something is one thing, taking it to heart is another.  I have lived with a sense of guilt and failure for so long that it is a hard and uncomfortable thing to change.

Failure is a part of life, everyone fails at something upon occasion.  What I need to figure out is how to stop myself from finding a way to make something a failure where anyone else would see a success.  Stop being so hard on myself and treat myself with the same compassion and understanding that I try to treat others with.

Of course, that may make the universe implode…

Today’s snarky comment: Izzues, I haz zem

 © 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

Those Words

Last time, I wrote the words For that is all a young child can understand.   Those words, those related thoughts seem to have formed the basis of my approach towards diabetes; indeed towards everything in life.

Those words related to the fact that it must be my fault. Even though I understand now it wasn’t, at that moment it was.  That blame became the basis for self-doubt, a constant sense of failure that led into a lifetime of negative thinking, depression… a sense of literally being cursed.

Cursed?  How did it being my fault make me cursed?  Well, you see, I was also supposed to die 20 or 30 years ago.  The longer I survived, the longer I was cursed with the guilt.  And failure.  I couldn’t even get a disease to kill me when it was supposed to, I couldn’t even get it to ruin my kidneys or vision or anything else it seems.

I’ve often wondered why I have so few memories, let alone vivid ones, of my life.  Especially since my memory can be damn near photographic of things I see or read that catch my attention.  It seems that I was insulating myself from emotions, emotions attached to those dim memories; emotions of guilt, failure. Of pain. Of the joy that we should all be able to witness, the joys that I wasn’t supposed to be here for or enjoy as some twisted penance for that sin of being diabetic.

That, of course, played right in to the sense that I wasn’t supposed to feel good, feel happy.  I never let myself feel those things.  It was a waste of time, you see, for me to have such things being that I had a lot of suffering to do before I died.  Not to mention that whole “should already be dead” thing.

After a while it just became easy, too easy, to say “why bother”.  I’ve blogged about that before but hadn’t been able to link that to things that happened so long ago. To understand where it all started.

That understanding remained as the cornerstone of my entire life, that simple understanding of a child.

© 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com

How Deep is That Damn Rabbit Hole Anyway?

Circa February 1970:  A seven year-old child learns he has a disease that will never go away and will kill him.  Something happened to him that his parents would never let happen, something that God would never let happen. It has to be someone’s fault so he is left with the indisputable fact that it is his fault.  For that is all a young child can understand.

As some of my closer friends know, I have been seeing a therapist for the last few weeks.  I like her, feel comfortable talking with her.  It’s nice to talk with someone that has no history or preconceptions of you but at the same time, she asks questions that friends wouldn’t and makes me answer them.  I need that.  It is also scary as hell.

In the movie The Matrix there is a scene where Neo and Morpheus meet for the first time.  Morpheus gives Neo a choice and tells him that if he takes the blue pill he will wake up in his own bed and be able to think whatever he wants.  If he takes the red pill, he will stay in Wonderland and Morpheus will show him how deep the rabbit hole goes.   Morpheus then tells him that he only promises to show Neo the truth.

I’ve just taken the red pill.  And the truth isn’t pretty… but at the same time it is magnificent.

© 2012 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and http://StrangelyDiabetic.com