Sometimes I get so mad at diabetes that I can't see straight...I see the world through eyes that are tired beyond all belief...eyes that are pissed off...eyes that are jealous of others that have no idea what this is like...eyes that have never seen their child's hands shaking uncontrollably because of a low...eyes that have had to watch helplessly as their child lays there...pale as a ghost...lethargic...like a puddle of desperation...waiting....eyes that stare at the clock as they wait for the phone to ring assuring them that their child is ok...they survived...they made it through the low tunnel and to the light on the other side back to reality...back to the land of the living again.
Sometimes I get so mad that she has to feel these things...live these things...breathe these things. I get so fucking pissed off that this life was thrust upon her at only 4 years old...why her?! Why did it have to be her that was dealt this unfair hand?
Sometimes the furious questions and thoughts and feelings swirl around in my head so fast and so hard and it's so overwhelming that I'm scared to even open my mouth because I don't know what words will fall out...I don't know...and.....I don't care.
Sometimes I want to scream and cry and punch holes in my walls because of the extreme depths of emotions that take over my body as I live this life as a D-Mom.
But I don't.
I have to keep it together because it's my job. It's my job to remain calm. It's my job to live it and deal with it and carry on. It's my job to teach her. It's my job to lead by example and show her that it's ok to be pissed.....it's what you do after you let that anger out that will define the measure of your spirit.
Sometimes I feel like I can't. Like I'm not good enough or smart enough or strong enough or capable enough to handle this gigantic task...this job...or even this moment.
It's not my disease. It's not my body that is feeling the effects.
But it doesn't make it hurt any less and it doesn't dull the pain at all...and it doesn't change the fact that even after all these years, I still need to find ways to let the anger out when it hits me all at once.
Anger doesn't make me weak...it doesn't mean I am letting diabetes win...it doesn't mean I'm not good enough.
It means I'm a D-Mom and I can do anything.