Whinning

I'm a type 1 diabetic, damnit. I hate it. I hate seeing that all diabetic research/emphasis goes to type 2 diabetes. I've got a few words about that, but I'll save them. I was diagnosed when I was 7, and now I'm 38. I was diagnosed, obviously, as a 'juvenile,' but don't fall into the true juvenile diabetic mold anymore. People automatically assume that I'm type 2. No, damnit, I'm not type 2. My pancreas stopped working when I was a small child due to something no one...NO ONE...had any control of. It's not my fault I'm diabetic. It's a fluke of nature. A genetic mistake. An environmental anomaly. A fluke. Out of my hands.

My blood sugars run the gamut, though I'm proud to say I haven't seen one over 400 in some time, and cannot recall the last time I saw it over 500. I've never been to the hospital due to my diabetes. I've never needed the assistance of anyone to help me take care of a low blood sugar, or an insulin reaction, as I've always called them. I would never claim to be 'perfect,' far, far from it. I do as little as possible to 'live' a healthy life, if you can even call it that. But I'm tired of it all. I'm fatter than I've ever been, unmotivated, but scared shitless of dying a painful, diabetic death. I don't want to see things get amputated. I don't want to lose my vision. I don't want to be on dialysis (however the hell you spell that). I don't want this god damned fucking disease to win. But it's beating the shit out of me. I can't find the motivation to get off my fat, lard ass.

I'm stubborn, too.