Monday was World Diabetes Day. November is Diabetes Awareness Month. And this particular Monday in November marked two years since I went to hospital thinking I was suffering from severe stress and left three days later with a diagnosis of Type I Diabetes.
If you follow me on social media there’s a chance you’ll know about this diagnosis but it’s not a guarantee because I don’t talk about it much online. Like anyone who makes a living from words, my instant response to the diagnosis was “everything is content” and yet I never quite got around to writing about it. In fact, in the past two years I haven’t really got around to writing about much of anything - something that is problematic if that is how you make your living. But today felt different. Today felt like I might finally be far enough away from that day to write about it. So let’s give it a go.
First of all there was the stage of terror. Because my diagnosis had been so dramatic (I’d been fine until a few weeks before, then suddenly I was in the resuscitation unit of the hospital being told I was about to die), I became terrified of doing anything that might upset my blood sugar levels. I ate the same food at the exact same time of the day for a week after leaving hospital because I was so scared I’d somehow kill myself by eating the wrong thing. I shouted at people a lot, I got angry when I felt they didn’t understand and I became convinced that everyone was judging me. That behind their kind words they secretly all thought it was my fault for being fat. I thought that too, of course.
Then I developed a “screw you, diabetes” attitude, where I told everyone I was going to carry on exactly as I had before and I wasn’t going to be impacted by this at all. I ate what I wanted, dosed the right amount of insulin and then screamed with frustration when my blood sugars didn’t behave in exactly the way I wanted them to. I tried to take on more and more work, in fact in terms of money I had my best year ever directly after I was diagnosed. But I couldn’t keep up the pace and in January of this year I ground to a halt. Type 1 diabetes is an auto-immune disease, which means that most of the day your immune system is very busy trying to kill off healthy parts of your body. Unsurprisingly it takes an awful lot of energy to do this, leaving you depleted. After two years I’ve now worked out the exact combination of supplements, sleep and saying no that equals the exact right amount of energy to live a normal life but if I overdo it even just for a day or two, I’ll feel it for weeks. Most of the time this works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Diabetes has taught me that there is a randomness about life that we don’t like to talk about. We think if we eat the right things, exercise the right amount, keep our bodies at the right weight, then we can beat illness. We assume if we work hard, become ambitious, save ferociously, we’ll be able to afford a comfortable style of living. We think if we follow the rules, it will all work out. In reality, nothing is guaranteed. This is both infuriating and just as it should be.
Being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes was an unlucky day for me but in the long run it will make for a luckier life. It’s forced me to take better care of myself. It made me look at those small points of stress that I previously just ignored and actually address them. I’ve gone back to therapy. I’ve healed relationships that were broken and ended ones which took more than they gave. I’ve looked at my life now and thought about what I want it to look like in five years, and taken steps to get there. Most importantly I’ve learned how to make peace with my own shame and anger around it. Something that two years ago I didn’t think would be possible.
It’s also taught me that where there is anger, there is power. So often we’re looking for the places of comfort and light, and I love those places as much as the next woman, but when we dip into the shadow side and look at our anger, that’s when we grow. So here’s to making friends with our anger, with our bodies and with our luck - whatever they throw at us.
For subscribers old and new:
To the incredible subscribers that have stuck with me through this newsletter’s various hiatus, changes and rebrandings - thank you! One of the things that these past two years have taught me is that you need to know when to let go and when to move on. For nearly six years I’ve written about women and work, and while I’ll still be doing that this newsletter is now branching out. I want to talk about the new things I’m learning and the new passions I’m forming. Right now that means I’m interested in women’s wellbeing in its entirety - work, money, health, relationships, power -, I’m interested in communication and how we do it better and I’m interested in what success really looks like when we get away from the BS we’ve been fed up until now.
If that sounds like the sort of newsletter you’d like more of, then wonderful! I’m so glad you’re here! Equally, if it’s not for you, now is the time let me go and unsubscribe - thank you for sticking around this long.
To new subscribers - this isn’t a newsletter about diabetes or health in particular. It is about life and the lessons we can learn from it, and how we can get some help applying those lessons. Because god knows, we can’t do it alone!
Until next time,
Harriet x
What a journey you've been on. In awe of all the work you've done to mine the experience into gold dust and come out shining. It's so important for those of us who haven't been exposed to Type 1 diabetes to read stuff like this and break down the myths and assumptions (aka ghastly judgements and stigma) we hold around it.
This is a beautiful piece, Harriet, and well worth waiting for! I love what you say about randomness. Congratulations on all of it: the living, the learning, the writing and, of course, the celebrating...