Teetering on the edge

I feel myself slipping today. Slipping over the edge into that dark place with this disease. I am teetering on the brink of bad things going on in my head and I am trying to catch my balance. I'm trying to stay on top and not let myself fall....but it's hard. It's really hard this time for some reason. I've been in this place before. I've fallen over the edge many times and gotten sucked into the depression that comes with this life...this never-ending diabetic monotony extravaganza. It's a dark and scary place and it sucks you in. It's awful and I think the worst part of it is that I know it won't be the last time I fall in there. I know this because I can see the marks of previous days and nights spent in that sad place. I can feel the sadness and the wasted breath of screams of anger. I can see the marks upon the wall and the anguish behind them. I feel it. I know I will be there again...and I will find my way out again...and I will fall again...it's a continuous cycle. I find it hard to gather the strength to stay on top and not get sucked in. I don't know if it's because our JDRF Walk is coming up this Sunday...and it will be our 4th time walking. I don't know if it's because next month will mark 4 years of living with this disease...marking half of my baby girl's life. I don't know if it's simply because I am tired...tired of it all...tired of counting carbs, bolusing, deciphering patterns in her numbers and making adjustments to her basal rates...tired of the lows that come out of nowhere...the change in seasons and weather that wreak havoc on numbers. I don't know if it's just because I am tired of it all...I'm just tired. I hate this disease and I hate that it makes me complain. I hate that it makes me feel like I have to fight to stay on that edge...that positive edge that still has sunlight shining down upon it. I hate that there is even a black hole of sadness and depression that I know about. I hate it. I wish that I didn't even know that it existed. I wish that the morning light would shine and I would awaken with a smile upon my face as opposed to pure exhaustion in my eyes and a stuporing stumble in my steps as I make my way to her room to make sure she's still alive. I hate that fear....that never ending fear. I hate how sometimes I feel like I am just fooling myself into thinking that I am in control of this...that as long as I do my best and am as exact as possible and as on top of things as possible...that nothing bad will ever happen...that she will be healthy and happy and fine. I know there are people in this world that are always capable of seeing the positivity in things...and I am usually ok at it...I have a wicked sense of humor (i know...i know...wow...way to speak so highly of yourself at a time like this amy!) But I fall sometimes too...I'm not perfect. I get sad...I get mad at this disease...I get jealous of others that don't have to live this life. I know I shouldn't and I hate that I do...but it still doesn't take away from the fact that I still do sometimes....I can't help what I feel...I just feel it. I endure it and I hate it and I hate myself for not being able to control my emotions sometimes...i hate that I have allowed so many tears to fall. I mask my sadness a lot of times by trying to be funny...laughing it off...making fun of myself and acting like it's no big deal....but a lot of those times I think I am just trying to convince myself that I am ok...that I am fine...that the screaming tears going on inside my head are not really me...so i joke and I laugh...and I make light of it. It's exhausting. I would have hoped after 4 years of this that I would have learned a better way to cope with days like today...but I haven't...and I don't know if that makes me a bad person or not...but it's just the way it is. Maybe someday I will learn a better way...but for now, I will just attempt to keep clawing my way back out and hanging on for dear life to that last speck of sun shining down upon my fingertips.