I Was Coping, Not Living

A rough week. A rough month. Honestly, a rough life lately.

Will it change? I think it will. But first, let me tell you where I’ve been.

A couple weeks ago, I almost lost a finger. A month ago, I was spiraling about my future. A couple months before that, I lost friends. I’m not blaming diabetes, but also… yeah, I kind of am. It’s a responsibility I never signed up for. And neither did you, Captain.

Truth is, I’m okay. But I’m at a chapter at 28 years old that I thought I’d already finished. I lived what I called a “happy” life for six years, but starting this year, I realized I wasn’t actually happy. I was just really good at coping, even if those coping strategies were quietly wrecking me.

To fit in at my first job, I picked up cigarettes. I always smoked weed too. It helped me feel calm, helped my creativity explode. But over time, my body started to reject it. I’d smoke and feel sick in my bones, even if my head felt lighter. So I quit. For years.

But like any good plot twist, I circled back. A few years ago, I tried smoking again. Same result. Body said no. Still, I kept trying now and then, looking for relief. By the start of 2025, I gave it one last shot. Just a couple hits. But all I felt was anxiety, crawling through my chest like electricity. My body was over it…. and eventually, so was my mind.

Cigarettes? Still a battle. I light up to take the edge off, but all it really does is send my heart racing, my hands sweating, my thoughts crashing. So I started praying. I opened my heart to God. I read the Bible now, slowly but surely. I’m easing off the smoke with the goal of quitting for good. Because I know I will always be an addict, but I also know I can be free of the things that try to control me.

Want to hear something funny? One of my hardest addictions doesn’t even make the official list. Diet Pepsi. That sweet, fizzy betrayal. Oh, and screens. I’m talking doomscrolling, gaming, movies. I’ve got Pirates of the Caribbean paused right now like Jack Sparrow might co-captain this ship of mine. I go for walks now, to break the loop. I try to attend local events. And I’ve repurposed my socials to reach my fellow Captains, those visiting Pancreas on Vacation.

Keep coming back. Sign up. Let’s get the forum moving. I’m tired of spotting another diabetic in the wild and not saying something. I want to give a nod that says, “I see you. You’re a powerhouse. You carry something no one else can see, but I can.”

And I know what it means when someone sees me too. Not with pity, but with recognition. With respect.

Anyway. For three months, I was solid. No pizza, no fast food, no PBJ sandwiches. Then I injured my finger and let myself rest. But resting brought feelings, and those feelings brought back pizza, fast food, and yes… sandwiches. I ran out of groceries and didn’t have the energy to restock. I stayed in for six straight days. My only sun was a short walk around the block.

My injury had me spiraling again. I thought, “I can’t keep doing this job.” But I need the job. It helps me survive. It gives me health insurance.

I was emotionally fried. The stress made my insulin stop absorbing right. I ran high for five out of those six days. The junk food didn’t help. Neither did the generic insulin. So I said, “Forget it.” I stopped caring. I let myself drift, and my body crashed for it.

Eventually, I centered myself again. Yesterday, I went to an event and saw new friends and old ones. But when I ran into people from an older chapter of my life, my knees literally went weak. The emotional whiplash was real. I think they’re good people. They’re trying, like we all are. But they didn’t understand me. Not then.

And I want to be around people who do. Who understand in their own way.

That moment of emotional shock must have sent me into a temporary depression. Since today, all I wanted was bed. My legs felt like anchors. My mind? Set on building a Minecraft fortress until 7 PM. I accepted the rest. I neglected my duties. But I didn’t forget you.

Whoever you are reading this, I want you to know this: You deserve your rest too. You are worthy of love, even if all you can do today is lay under a blanket and breathe. If you’re stuck inside with no clue what to do, then do nothing. That’s okay. Just know you’re not alone. Reach out. Because a lot of us are in the same place.

I’ve learned that this is a pattern I’ve followed most of my life. The cycles, the shutdowns, the shame. All because I never truly accepted what had happened to me. But now I am. That doesn’t mean I approve. It means I accept.

And I forgive. I forgive the pressure, the trauma, the mess that life brought me. Forgiveness isn’t saying it was okay. It’s saying I won’t let it control my actions anymore. I won’t let it shape my reactions.

This time, I will be graceful. Not numbed out by something pretending to make me feel better. I’ll feel good for real, from the core of who I am.

I will give myself grace. And I will love myself with maximum grace and maximum patience.

Thanks for reading, Captain. If you’re still here, you’re still on board. And we’re still sailing. I love you. Tell me do you have any addictions?

If you liked this post you may consider reading, Does Diabetes Cause Mental Illness?

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Blood Sugar is 278 mg or 15.42 mmol