In my thirties… not in the good way

It feels like a year ago already, but last week I sat down on my couch and felt a bit weird, I’ve had trouble feeling my lows lately, so I thought I’d be super proactive and test, even though my Dexcom said that I was fine … 38. That was not a typo. 38. That is the third time I’ve been in the 30s in as many weeks… #notgood. So I immediately get up to get juice, gummies, pretzels, almond butter… pretty much everything from my kitchen – at which point, standing up I all of a sudden felt everything… dizzy, getting hotter, couldn’t remember why I had stood up… “oh yeah… juice, right, yes, that.” I somehow figure out/decide on what I want out of my kitchen – it seems that the lower my blood sugar is the longer it takes me to decide what kind of juice I want, and whether it’s cold enough, and if I want it in the box or in a cup… why does any of that matter when I’m about to pass out you might ask… I’ll let you know when I figure it out… — so I make it back to my couch, at which point I do something radical, I reached out for help… I text 3 friends, one to talk to, one to be dia-honest with, and one to save my ass… and each one responded and was there for me in their own way… I made it through, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this, but it took almost an hour before I was in normal range, and it hammered home the point I had almost already accepted… I need help. Like real help. What I’m doing right now isn’t working. And pretending that it is working is starting to get dangerous.