I'm frustrated....why does everything always have to be so friggin hard? Why does everything have to be so difficult to figure out and work around and manage and DO? Just for once, I would love for something...anything...to be easy. I would love to be able to think of something that I need to do...step out into the great big world and get it done...1, 2, 3...done. It never seems to work out that way though. I always hear people say things like "God never gives you more than you can handle"....well I am really at the point that I think that is a load of crap now. I look at other people who are a lot more equipped and a lot more capable than I am...and they don't have these things in their lives. I know...I know...everyone has there own cross to bear and trials to go through in life. But, I swear sometimes it feels like I must have been the BIGGEST jerk in my last life to have some of the difficult things thrown my way that I have had in this life.
I don't mean for this to sound like a pity party...I just need to blab it all out somewhere...or else I might explode and tear the mailman's head off later this morning instead. That wouldn't be fair...he seems like such a nice fella. A day in the life of a mailman is sort of a good metaphor for my life I think. Like the mailman, I walk along the same route...see the same houses...same cracks in the sidewalk every single day. I attempt to keep a good pace, keeping the contents of my bag somewhat organized so I can do a good job and deliver things to the proper places. I keep a log and write down the details every single day of Emma's blood sugars, her activity, the food she eats. I try to keep things similar day to day so I can see that pattern and find those familiar cracks in the sidewalk. While I am juggling all of those details in my bag, I also attempt to educate my daughter. I try to share important details with her so that one day she will remember and know how to manage that situation on her own when she is grown and not living with me anymore. I try to educate the people in our lives a bit too. It's sometimes a futile effort...sort of like handing out that junk mail flyer...the majority of the time people just toss it away in the trash without a second glance, but sometimes....every once and a while...someone will take the time to read it, someone will take the time to really listen to what I am saying and take it to heart.
Sometimes, the mailman will come across a viscious looking dog chained up outside as well. Diabetes is sort of like that dog for me. I need to plan ahead and sometimes use quick thinking and manuever my way past that viscious dog to get to the mailbox and deliver what I need to. Sometimes in a difficult to manage situation, I need to find that perfect (is there such a thing?) balance between activity, insulin, and food. I don't always succeed and make it to that metaphorical mailbox (perfect balance) in tact...in fact more often than not, I wind up making it there with quite a few metaphorical bites and scratches along the way.
I just keep moving along though...one foot in front of the other...one step at a time. Sometimes like this week, the rain pours down on me and the humidity is so stifling that it feels like I won't ever be able to breathe normal again...but I still keep moving. Diabetes is exhausting. Sometimes LIFE is exhausting. I wonder if the day will ever come that I will run out of that drive and that force pushing me along my route up hill. I wonder if I will ever reach the top. I wish I could know how many more steps that it's going to take to get there...