The mind can be a tricky terrain to navigate.
As my dedication to following ‘the perfect Diabetic plan’ faltered, I struggled. The voice of Science played in one of corner of my mind with hard facts; the cause and effect of high blood sugars and low blood sugars. The melody was fearful and reinforced a hum of anxiety on the periphery of my consciousness. Over it, however, what played louder and stronger in my awareness was a need for relief. I needed friends; I needed to eat a treat; I needed to feel normal.
My mind, in its attempt to find a path through the clashing sounds these contradicting thoughts and feelings made, came up with a simple – albeit flawed – solution: Stop testing blood sugar.
A logical person – or a person who wasn’t living with Diabetes – would call this solution pure silliness. Maybe even nonsensical. With the advent of ‘self-testing’ units, the possibility of maintaining health with Diabetes increases dramatically. Being able to test one’s own blood sugar and adjust insulin/food/exercise accordingly was a Godsend for Diabetics.. so some would say. Why would anyone NOT test their blood sugar?!
I know the answer to that question: because I didn’t want to know. If I wasn’t falling over from low blood sugar or losing my peripheal vision from high bloodsugar, then not knowing gave me some flexibility in how I ate. I could ignore ‘bad’ choices, thereby damping down the anxiety scientific facts created while giving some relief to the feelings of ‘need’ my inner psychology demanded. I could taste the treats others were enjoying and tell myself that – as long as I only ate a small bit – I was still tending the care of my body. If I fully embraced the metaphysical idea of creating my own reality, then I could ‘see’ my blood sugars as in a good range… like I said, the mind is a tricky terrain.
Of course, my awareness of the slippery mind slope I’d created was non-existent. I was just a person with a head injury from the automobile accident that accompanied the onset of type 1 Diabetes (see article: When I Died ) doing my best to comprehend all the ways my Life was changed. My friends didn’t understand the science, and my doctor didn’t have time to explore the feelings. I believed my dilemna was mine alone; logic was not a factor, and considering long term ramifications fell far below the immedicacy of relief in my priorities.
Did I feel guilty about what I was doing? That’s a good question. And I’ll take it up in part 3: The Tarbaby Called Guilt. Stay tuned…