I've been type 1 for 23 years. 23 years of denial. I have tried everything to break free from denying my condition. I don't want to die. believe it may be already too late. Complications are slowly falling on me. I still ignore every simple advice to change and pretend I'm not diabetic. I'm desperate for help but at the same time I reject support. Never been so low in my life. What else to do?
I thought this might perhaps give you hope, bearing in mind I was diagnosed in July 1959:
On 16th July 2005, having sung in a choir at a wedding in St Edmundsbury Cathedral, I made my way out to the Cathedral Close with all the other guests. After a while a lady wearing a pink suit and wedding hat came up to me and said “Hello Grant, am I amazed to see you,
and looking so well. We didn't think you would survive.” This was the first time it dawned on me that I had been in a seriously bad condition during my student years. I had not seen Diana, who was the Diabetic Ward Night Sister (Danielle) at King's College Hospital, since I think 1979. I have known her daughter Claire since 1987.
The reason I can enjoy what I do now is that my hospilisation during 1979-1985 caused me to take things seriously at last. This allowed me to continue all the way to 2013 before a kidney/pancreas transplant was carried out. Obviously I don't know how much, if any, damage you have done, but I think Diana's remark says it all. She knew me when I was undergoing several sessions of the earliest laser treatment available, in both eyes. Yet those glasses round my neck are my only visual aid. There are too many scary stories out there, especially in a sensationalist media. I really hope you get enough comfort and peace of mind from this forum to allow you to throw off this mental burden. I wish you the best of luck!