- Messages
- 3
- Type of diabetes
- Type 1
I have only lived in UK a year but I am already an expert at complaining about the weather, a popular English pastime. I complain about the weather and my ****** job and the dating scene in London and it feels great… it makes me feel exactly like everyone else. I get to be the proverbial ostrich, I bury my head as deep in the sand as humanly possible and focus on all the unimportant ‘easy to handle’ topics like trying to drop a dress size and how the quality of the umbrellas available in Boots is getting worse and worse.
I have been diabetic for 22 years and have not always been (and quite frankly am still not) what you would call a ‘good diabetic’. As a result I have neuropathy, retinopathy and (my absolute favourite) autonomic neuropathy. Working in communications and having had extensive experience as a copy writer means that people expect me to be good at communicating… but this is something I battle to share. So here I am, on a Diabetic forum for the first time, bearing what feels like my soul, to complete strangers, hoping for some sort of semblance of normality and acceptance.
All my friends know I am diabetic and have seen my pump and possibly even bought a Coke to help me remedy a low but there are probably 3 people outside of my family who have ever seen me unwell. As a result, most of my friends think I am flaky, dramatic and a little down right crazy… and I am alright with that. The alternative is them knowing the truth and that is something I am not alright with.
The problem arises in that I have hidden my complications for so long I no longer know how to tell people about them. Remember that horrible dating scene I was talking about? Well I recently (somehow) managed to meet someone I actually like and who seems to actually like me back (it is a Christmas miracle).
We have been seeing each other exclusively for two months, I have met his parents and my friends absolutely love him. But he knows I am keeping something from him and I just cannot bring myself to say what I need to. How do I tell this man that under my completely average exterior lies a hotbed of unglamorous health complications?
The truth: I have confirmed retinopathy which I have regularly treated with laser therapy and Invastin injections.
What I say: My eyes are sensitive and I am as blind as a bat.
The truth: I have neuropathy and a jammed big toe which means I occasionally get ulcers that can take up to 6 months to heal. I am hyper sensitive to any form of touch from the ankle down.
What I say: I like comfy shoes and am too tall to wear heels or cute shoes anyway… I stick to trainers. And I am super ticklish so no pedicures or foot rubs for me thanks.
The truth: I have debilitating boats of symptoms relating to my autonomic neuropathy. They are often unpredictable and almost always happen in the evening and overnight. This spans from uncontrollable sweating (like I am running an ultra-marathon under the African sun) to phantom pains in my lower extremities. My most common symptom and definitely my most shameful is rampant diarrhoea and bowel incontinence which I suffer from at least three times a week (that is a good week). I take many precautions if I am out with people but sometimes things cannot be avoided.
What I say: Sometimes things related to my diabetes happen that I am not comfortable discussing. If I tell you I need to leave or be alone, do not ask if I am alright, do not try help, do not follow me…. Leave me the hell alone. And no, I do not like sleeping at anyone else’s house, I like my personal space!
I know my coping mechanisms are not exactly healthy but they do get me by. I find talking about it makes me feel incredibly depressed and I have always stuck with the philosophy that talking about it doesn’t change what I go through… so I simply pick up the pieces and carry on moving
I guess my question is… how the hell do I tell this guy the truth? Do I tell him the truth? How could a good looking, well educated, charismatic man in his late 20’s choose to stay with someone like me knowing all of the above?
I have been diabetic for 22 years and have not always been (and quite frankly am still not) what you would call a ‘good diabetic’. As a result I have neuropathy, retinopathy and (my absolute favourite) autonomic neuropathy. Working in communications and having had extensive experience as a copy writer means that people expect me to be good at communicating… but this is something I battle to share. So here I am, on a Diabetic forum for the first time, bearing what feels like my soul, to complete strangers, hoping for some sort of semblance of normality and acceptance.
All my friends know I am diabetic and have seen my pump and possibly even bought a Coke to help me remedy a low but there are probably 3 people outside of my family who have ever seen me unwell. As a result, most of my friends think I am flaky, dramatic and a little down right crazy… and I am alright with that. The alternative is them knowing the truth and that is something I am not alright with.
The problem arises in that I have hidden my complications for so long I no longer know how to tell people about them. Remember that horrible dating scene I was talking about? Well I recently (somehow) managed to meet someone I actually like and who seems to actually like me back (it is a Christmas miracle).
We have been seeing each other exclusively for two months, I have met his parents and my friends absolutely love him. But he knows I am keeping something from him and I just cannot bring myself to say what I need to. How do I tell this man that under my completely average exterior lies a hotbed of unglamorous health complications?
The truth: I have confirmed retinopathy which I have regularly treated with laser therapy and Invastin injections.
What I say: My eyes are sensitive and I am as blind as a bat.
The truth: I have neuropathy and a jammed big toe which means I occasionally get ulcers that can take up to 6 months to heal. I am hyper sensitive to any form of touch from the ankle down.
What I say: I like comfy shoes and am too tall to wear heels or cute shoes anyway… I stick to trainers. And I am super ticklish so no pedicures or foot rubs for me thanks.
The truth: I have debilitating boats of symptoms relating to my autonomic neuropathy. They are often unpredictable and almost always happen in the evening and overnight. This spans from uncontrollable sweating (like I am running an ultra-marathon under the African sun) to phantom pains in my lower extremities. My most common symptom and definitely my most shameful is rampant diarrhoea and bowel incontinence which I suffer from at least three times a week (that is a good week). I take many precautions if I am out with people but sometimes things cannot be avoided.
What I say: Sometimes things related to my diabetes happen that I am not comfortable discussing. If I tell you I need to leave or be alone, do not ask if I am alright, do not try help, do not follow me…. Leave me the hell alone. And no, I do not like sleeping at anyone else’s house, I like my personal space!
I know my coping mechanisms are not exactly healthy but they do get me by. I find talking about it makes me feel incredibly depressed and I have always stuck with the philosophy that talking about it doesn’t change what I go through… so I simply pick up the pieces and carry on moving
I guess my question is… how the hell do I tell this guy the truth? Do I tell him the truth? How could a good looking, well educated, charismatic man in his late 20’s choose to stay with someone like me knowing all of the above?