For the longest, I thought I was given a specific death sentence. Drowning in doubt and depression, longing to give up on several occasions. Selfishly forcing the love of my life to bare witness, while I cry out to the heavens, woeth me Lord what did I do. Please lift this curse I've been given.
I’ve never been one to agree with what is or acceptin. That's probably why I hate the sayin "it is what it is" whenever someone says it. But like millions of other Americans, this is the hand that I've been given. Lord knows I've had some questionable moments where I've had to count my blessings.
However, 13 years in I've yet to find the blessing in havin a disability. Angry with God are you there are you listenin? Is this my punishment? Are you entertained Am I amusin? You've had my praise my heart and attention, what do you ask of me that I have not given?
Yes Jesus suffered and died for our sins. So it goes without sayin that I'm no exception. But I am not him his path was his purpose. What is the point of me sufferin?
As if the inheritance of problems and risks of my race isn't enough. I constantly must deal with this affliction and the resulting experiences and accompanyin symptoms. Leavin me to feel like I’m toxic to everything that I touch. And I belong in a bubble away from folks.
I can do everything right and still have highs and lows. Sugar levels that vary beyond my control. Immune system low so I'm easily exposed. I hate the feelin of feelin helpless or feelin vulnerable.
Insecure uncertain and doubtful what's in the mirror. My brain sendin signals of pain and betrayal. Confused who to trust so my position's defensive. My own worst enemy livin life and death scenarios.
Broken in every sense of the word no good to no one. Drinkin myself to sleep but no rest for me has yet to come. Unable to blame anyone for my own disgust. Doin the things I shouldn’t increasin the inevitable.
A lot of self pity isolation makin it worse. Tired of all thinkin the hurtin I wanna go. But where is there to go and escape when you’re the problem. I feel like this is my fault or my cross to carry alone.
I can’t help but wonder if my feelings and flaws are the reason for the loss of my unborn. God knew how flawed I was and spared that child the harm. Yet I’m now here with a four year old struggling to be strong. Wonderin where I would be if it wasn’t for her.
Would I give up or start drinkin more. My brain programmed to think or plan for the worst. Would her perspective of me change if she saw what I saw. I worry the more I confess the more it will hurt in turn.
My competence to parent will warrant concern. My statements and condition used against me for custody of her. If I struggle with just her, how could I think of havin more. Negative thoughts affectin me workin its way to my core.
Perhaps I’ve underestimated T1D. My confidence and stubbornness to accept defeat has hindered me from recognizing things. Overlookin the damage to my mentality and the thoughts I contrived to produce this reality.
I wish I could return to normalcy or what it’s perceived to be. No united health scare complications, insurance or financial worries. No fear before activities or after that my body will torture me. The highs and lows and excretions won’t plague me and I can rest easy.
Believe me. I’m grateful to be livin and recognize I’ve been afforded an opportunity that Marsha, Lisha, and Jayla wasn’t given. The challenges before me are meant for somethin. However, politics, greed and their insensitivity makes me feel like I’m bein punished or penalized for things forced upon me.
An American Minority with insulin dependencies. Fighting against Amerika over coverage and subsidies. Not lookin for your pity or sympathy just understandin. Of what’s it like to have a condition that’s pre-existing.
#IAmWhatAPreexistingConditionLooksLike #MyAfflictions #IAmHiyhm #curetypeone #Type1Diabetes #Type1 #AwarenessIsKey #DenialOfAProblemIsAProblem #AmbitionBreedsOpportunity #ABO
http://www.curetypeone.com
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