Sometimes diabetes feels like a slow suicide… suicide by lack of pancreas…

It recently occurred to me that I will probably die of complications with diabetes. I have considered before, that diabetes could cause death, through low blood sugar, seizures, dka, and other fun things — but I had considered death only in the acute… something bad happens and it immediately causes my death. What I had not considered, is that no matter what I do, I will most likely die because of diabetes, or some complication there of. Now there may be some of you out there who might think “No way!” or “It’s totally manageable, stop overreacting” or “You’re going to be fine… are you.. you know… on your cycle…” — but all jokes aside, the way I see it is that no matter what I’m going to get old, as I get old I will face the consequences of age and of long term semi-controlled blood sugar (even if we’re really good, we’re not a pancreas) — the affects of living without a pancreas will then compound with me being old and therefore contribute to and/or cause my death… bringing me back to my original point, that I will most likely die of complications related to diabetes. This fact is extremely depressing. I am 26. I am also considering how I am going to die, not in a depressive/suicidal* way, but in a seriously, when I’m old, assuming nothing random takes me out before then… this shit that I’m dealing with right now.. this diabetes bullshit… it’s going to kill me. quite literally. no jokes. fuck.

In some ways I start to feel this out of body “okay, if I’m going to die, then none of this matters…” — except in my case “this” is everything, and even if I’m going to live for the next ten minutes, something has to matter… I mean my dog is sleeping at my feet… she matters. Then something real, like what I just said about Casey being at my feet… it brings me back and then I’m left here, the same as when I started this post, just scared — a scared, 26-year-old type 1 diabetic, who will most likely die of complications related to diabetes, sitting at home, alone, writing to you from her computer…

And then I hear a friend, telling me to take it a day at a time — and then I want to punch that friend in the face and tell them that that is impossible. It feels impossible. Some part of me knows that I’ll be okay for the rest of tonight, and that I’ll probably wake up tomorrow, and that will probably be okay too. but when I get further ahead than tonight, I start to get scared again. this is where I hear my friend again, telling me to take it a day at a time. I still want to punch that friend in the face, but this time maybe I’ll settle for just ignoring them and continuing to be mad. and scared. and alone.

*Here’s my plug for mental health — if you or anyone you know is actually considering suicide, PLEASE seek help either through your own friends/family, or check out http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ — as a reminder, I am not a medical or health professional, please seek guidance from a professional as needed.

**Bunny Suicide Drawing by artist Andy Riley