It’s been many years since the events I described in the previous installments (see parts 1 – 5). I’m 25 years older now. Circumstances changed. Focus shifted. Priorities evolved. The one constant – Type 1 Diabetes, my teacher, remained true to me.
How does one make peace with an unwanted condition or circumstance? The million dollar question, and I know the answer….
By appreciating it.
It’s a simple Truth, if you can let it in. I couldn’t for many years. It not only felt impossible to appreciate living with type 1 Diabetes; to me, it seemed like a crazy idea that people who didn’t have Diabetes invented to placate those of us who did. It wasn’t until I’d exhausted avoidance and denial, almost killed myself with hoping it would go away if I pretended it wasn’t there, and – ultimately – attempted every form of rejection I could muster, that I surrendered..
And made peace. Making peace meant finding a way to accept the tenderness of my body and care for Her as I would for a beloved friend. Making peace meant letting go of the pretense that I could ‘cheat a little bit’ on eating choices and it would have no impact. Making peace meant allowing myself to be lovable and imperfect at the same time.
Making peace means I am on my own journey of self-discovery, and Diabetes travels with me – through thick and thin – as the friend who helps me make peace within myself.
I am a quirky girl; sensitive to the subtle energies of subtext. This was true before Diabetes joined me. I have to thank my friend, though, for making me use this sensitivity to gauge the emotional content of my environment and make choices that enhance my Well-being more quickly. I have to appreciate Diabetes for making me honor the quirks that make me uniquely who I am; Diabetes taught me to embrace my nature rather than judge or hide it.
I have to appreciate Diabetes for helping me remember every day all the reasons I want to live and all the small pleasures that Life holds for me in each moment. Diabetes makes sure I slow down enough to capture the essence of being alive.
I can make peace with that.
And, if by some small miracle, I find my way to a body that creates its own insulin again (hope walks with me, too, on my other side), I will continue to honor my friend and teacher, Diabetes, who required only that I love myself more.
Thank you. I love you.