Denial ain't just a river.
I had a hard childhood for the most part. This was in the 60s in Appalachia. There were no social services in place for the working poor. I went to bed hungry so often that the dreams I remember having as a child are the ones where I either found money or found food. Then I woke up and would actually wonder where it had gone to. I became a bit more aware and I clearly remember having the 'found money' dreams and conciously holding the money as tight as possible in my dream, so that when I woke up I would be able to bring it back with me. It never worked. Once I married 'up' and didn't have to worry about starving anymore I couldn't lose the fear of not being able to replace the food as it was used. So, if there was food in the house, I ate until it was gone. I followed this pattern for years, and naturally I gained weight. And now food, my oldest and dearest friend - the one in whom I found comfort and solace - has betrayed me. I was told today that I have Diabetes Mellitus. The Dr has been watching my glucose levels for about a year now. I knew that I had been at Diabetic levels; but I told myself, and others, that I don't have Diabetes. My sugar levels just spike when I drink too much alcohol or eat a lot of sweets and starches. Today I was too sick to go to work. I thought it was another kidney infection. But that isn't what the urinalysis revealed. My comforter betrayed me; my body failed me - this wonderful body that gave birth to 3 remarkable human beings; but most of all, I failed myself. I knew last year that I couldn't ignore this thing. I knew that it wouldn't magically go away. I planned to do things to lose the excess weight; I planned to exercise; I did cut way back on alcohol-by more than 50%. But I didn't accept the diagnosis. I hid my eyes and convinced myself I'd have plenty of time to worry about this when I got old. That I wasn't so far gone I had to consider myself to be diseased. I was in deep Denial. So now for the next steps. I start Disease Management classes in a couple of weeks. I start exercising and watching my intake closely tomorrow. Not immediately. Tonight was one of margaritas and queso with beer for desert. One last fling before I accept that I'm different and start working to bring the disease under control. I'm lucky; I've known people who found out when they woke from a coma. I know people who have to administer shots daily. I have to use diet and exercise to control a manageable condition. Then I can live a fairly normal life; a nice long one too. I told one of my guys, the ex-fiance. I don't think I will tell the other two. It's too intimate and I'm too raw.