I thought that if I wrote something here about what I had been thinking about I just might remember to look back at the archives when I was trying to remember what I was thinking about during a rainy day like today. I'm usually not one for new year's resolutions, mainly because I'm never good at keeping them. Although, recently, I seem to have more reasons than none to get my shit together. You see, I'm sick. I'm very sick. And, I keep denying it. I keep pushing it away. I keep it away because it's a reminder of the past. Of the pain. Of always losing. But, I am, I'm sick. I'm working very hard. Okay. I'm working hard. Okay. I'm trying to work very hard to get my life back under control. It's difficult. To say the least.
I was diagnosed with Diabetes (type 2) during my pre-op visit with Dr. K back in November of 2003. I was about to have exploratory surgery to figure out what else could be going on after losing two babies. It was a difficult blow. As I sit here typing it now, it makes me cry. I guess it's because I don't think I ever acknowledged what it meant. How it made me feel. How scared I was. How scared I am. That it meant another failure that my body dealt me. That perhaps if someone would have looked before. If they would have known before, back when the symptoms came and the borderline tests came about when I was a teenager. Perhaps if they had done right by me, I wouldn't have lost those three babies. Or maybe four. I wouldn't be here crying in front of my blog desparate for help. Desparate for it to all be a big nightmare. I wish it could just go away. And, for the past two years, I think I have been wishing that it would go away. But I knew. I knew that the sweet of my blood is slowly killing me.
So, before me I have a great task. It is the task of saving me. It's not about having a baby anymore. It's not about that. I know I want to be a parent. I know that we will. I'm not worried about that anymore. I'm more worried about the rest of me that I've neglected all these years. The neglected tears that I kept in the ducts. The festering anger boiling below the skin. The yelps I've lodged in my throat.
For this year, and forever after, I have the task of being kind to myself. Of being good to my body. I owe it a lot as it has suffered a great deal. I have always known that my life has lacked balance. Everywhere. This balance I will seek, and with determination and all the help I can get, I will set about making this day the beginning of a new me. One that chooses to live. Longer.