What Do I Even Call This One?

I’m a recovering diabulimic.  There, I said it.  Now, let me tell you my story.

In high school I had a very tough time.  I got so sick of following a plan.  I just ate and ate and ate.  And of course if you eat more you’re going to gain weight.  Duh.  And at that time I was covering it with insulin.  And I mean insane amounts of insulin.  Like 150 units of Humalog at a time.  That’s how much I was eating.

This is because I’ve never felt hungry or full.  And that’s because I had such a structured plan growing up.  I just ignored those feelings because they didn’t matter.  If I was hungry I could have a free food.  But that’s not what I always wanted.  And If I didn’t want to eat I had to.  I had to have exactly 30 g of carbohydrates at 8:30 before bed.  No question about it.  My feelings didn’t matter.

It’s like I have a numb organ in the middle of my body.  I just don’t ever feel hungry or full.  I think that’s why I was able to eat so much.

Anyway, obviously I gained weight.  A lot of weight.  I didn’t like that.  So, I quit giving my insulin.  At the time I didn’t know what I was doing had a name.  I just remembered losing a lot of weight when I was diagnosed.  So I went back to that.  And magically, my weight dropped off.  But I felt like CRAP.  But, I kept stuffing my face and never feeling full.  And I just kept losing weight.  Magic, pure magic.  Except that it was deadly magic.

I couldn’t sleep lying down because the second I went horizontal, acid would creep up my esophagus.  I couldn’t concentrate.  Let me tell you, AP Calculus is even harder when you’re on a constant DKA border.  I could never catch my breath.  Going up the stairs was the hardest thing in the world.  I drank gallons of water a day.  I ran to the bathroom between every class to throw up.  I slept hours upon hours.  Looking back on it I was probably a step away from death.

My A1C at this time was above 16.  Seriously.  Yes, I know how terrible that number is.  I wasn’t testing, wasn’t giving insulin.  I was living like a person without diabetes.  But it was deadly.  Right now I’m wondering how I’m still alive.

This is the reason why my mom doesn’t trust me.  Several years of lying about blood sugars, giving insulin and what I ate completely blew away all of the trust she had in me.  And honestly, I can’t blame her.

My first year of college didn’t get much better.  Until one night.  I woke up in the middle of the night to throw up.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time.  It was happening almost every night.  And in a college dorm no one is really going to think anything’s weird about a girl throwing up in the bathroom at 3:00 in the morning.  Sometimes I had drunk girls throwing up next to me.  What a good way to bond.

Well this night was bad.  Really bad.  I threw up and went back to my room.  But I passed out right inside the door.  The door was left open and thankfully one of my neighbors got up to use the restroom.  She thought it was weird that I was asleep on the floor and my door was open.  Thank God she shook me awake.  All I could think was, “INSULIN.  IF I’M GOING TO LIVE I NEED INSULIN.”  I have no idea how I did it, but I gave myself a massive shot.  I owe my life to my neighbors.

That was enough to make me stop.  It wasn’t an overnight thing.  It’s taken about two years.  It’s been really hard on me.  I’ve kind of used my parents for help.  But I feel like a disappointment when I ask them.  So I’ve tried to do it on my own.  It’s taken a very long time.

And I can honestly tell you that I check my blood sugar at least seven times a day now.  And I always give my insulin.  Always.  I’m on a pump so I kind of don’t have a choice anymore.  And thank goodness for that.

But I’ve gained a tremendous amount of weight.  And I’m not pleased with that.  In fact I hate it more than anything.  But I refuse to let myself go back down that path.  I look in the mirror and I hate what I see, but I’m working on it.  Weight loss is extremely slow now.  But I’m going to be healthy.  I promise myself that I’m going to be healthy.

I hope none of you are reading this and thinking, “This is me.  I know exactly what she’s talking about.”  But if you are, know that you can get better.  Feel free to contact me.  I know what it’s like.  I’ve been there.

I’m not proud of this story.  I’m actually very ashamed to tell it.  But if it can help just one diabetic then I’m very happy to tell it.

Wow, this blog feels very random to me.  It doesn’t feel well written.  It feels like I just slapped my thoughts on the computer.  Which isn’t like me.  Usually everything is thought out better.  But if I were to carefully think this one out and include all the details it would be an entire book.  And I know you don’t have the time to read an entire book.  So I’d like to apologize for the randomness of this one.  I just wanted to get my story out there.