Voice of Reason

Today's Prompt: I Take it Back. Write about a time that you lashed out at someone close to you because of frustration/fear/anger resulting from your health condition and you wish you could take it back. Forgive yourself and let it go.

This prompt resonates with me.

One of the symptoms of high blood sugar is rage. I won't call it uncontrollable, but it kind of is. The surge of stress hormones that occur with a high blood sugar is the same as that which occurs in the nervous system's Fight or Flight response. And my response is always Fight.

There were times early in my relationship with my husband where I would snap his head off while my blood sugar was high and he would snap back and I would escalate it and it would explode. We found out that, for us, it was important that he knew my blood sugar was high and that he touch me and tell me I was okay. The touch snapped me out of it and his gentle tone gave me no resistance. Nothing to fight back against. I always instantly stand down and realize what's happening.

When my blood sugar level returns to normal, we can talk about what I said or did.

If you love someone whose blood sugar fluctuates, one of the most supportive and gentle things you can do is honor that request - wait until their blood sugar has stabilized before you deal with the way you're upset that they behaved. Wait until it's level before you ask "what did you eat?" or "how dare you speak to me that way!" or "what is your problem?"

Their problem is that they are fighting for a shred of normal.

Now that I'm a parent, there is a new kink I haven't worked out yet. When I'm high, sometimes I snap at my daughter. My Sweetie. My everything.

And there's no begging patience from someone whom you are charged with protecting.

Beauty and the Beast

Today's Prompt: Letters. Write a letter to your condition – what do you want to get off your chest?

You know, you'd never know it to talk to me about diabetes, but one of the first emotion words that wells up in me when I think no one is around to judge me for it is ANGER. Anger. Not at the universe. Not at fate or my lot in life or the path I've taken. Just undirected, unfocused, impotent anger at the daily crap that this disease brings my direction.

Having no one to blame is a hard anger to sift through. You don't ever find the bottom of the barrel. As soon as you dig your hands into the sand and make a hole, more sand rushes in around your fingers. You never quite scrape past the surface. I suppose that I'm angry that life couldn't have been easier. Angry that my body didn't work the way it was supposed to. Angry that it has cost so much money when my family didn't have a lot to start with. Angry that it in some way affected my momentum.

Disclaimer: These are not our actual angry faces.
Just our pretend ones. About a year ago.