I love you diabetics. I love you people with diabetes. I love you just diagnosed diabetics. I love you experienced diabetics. I love you diagnosed as a child diabetics. I love you diabetics diagnosed as an adult. I love you type 2 diabetics. I love you type 1 diabetics. I love you non insulin users and I love you insulin users. I love you survivers.

I love you diabetics. I love you people with diabetes. I love you just diagnosed diabetics. I love you experienced diabetics. I love you diagnosed as a child diabetics. I love you diabetics diagnosed as an adult. I love you type 2 diabetics. I love you type 1 diabetics. I love you non insulin users and I love you insulin users. I love you survivers.

Anyone have any tips for erratic burnout? I have days where I hyper focus on my diabetes and do everything in my power to take care of myself. And other days, I couldn't care less about taking care of myself. I feel awful about not being able to consisently take care of myself.

Am I the only one who is super fucking pissed with the way that Avery and Dassey were treated in the court room? Dassey was still a child when he had to go through this and anyone with a brain can see that he was lead to confess by the 2 officers in the interrogation. Which was held without his mother or a lawyer present. Like how was that admissible to court?

you are either pro choice or you are pro forced birth; pro miscarriage; pro suicide; pro wrongful imprisonment; pro babies being born stillborn; pro babies being born into poverty; pro kids being dragged through the adoption system; pro unsafe abortions; pro trauma; pro teenage pregnancy; pro domestic violence; pro abusive parents;

If you took insulin today, I’m proud of you.

If you changed an infusion set or CGM sensor today, I’m proud of you.

If you took your Lantus(or equivalent), I’m proud of you.

If you took your blood sugar today, I’m proud of you.

If you have changed your lancet it the last 4 months, I’m proud of you.

If you had keytones today, and tried to bring them down, I’m proud of you.

If you tried to keep your blood sugar in range and your body just wouldn’t cooperate, I’m proud of you.

If you wanted to do any if these things, and you just couldn’t, I’m still so proud of you.

Keep trying; it WILL get better.

Reblog if you’re also proud of type 1 diabetics.

[Image Text Transcription] Diabetes Hero: Dog 410

July 30, 1921, 100 years ago today, Dog 410 became the first living being to be successfully treated with an early form of insulin. Her pancreas was surgically removed, her islets isolated, and the solution injected back into her, becoming the first earthling successfully treated for elevated blood sugar.

All this took your life the next day, but you saved my life and millions and millions more. Your body was not used with your consent, but I think you would be proud of all the lives your sacrifice saved, because you were a dog: humanity's very best friend.

Thank you for my life sweetie.  I remember you. [End Image Text Transcription]

this :’)

Here's a few little things that will help make you-a well meaning able bodied, nerotypical person a better ally to the disabled community (you were meant it read this in the voice of a self help video)

The first thing is that we don't have every disability, I can't answer your questions about wheelchairs or insulin, but I can have a conversation about food accessibility, social stigma and a few other things. Me having one autoimmune disease and maybe a learning disability (this is a work in progress) will never give me a voice on other parts of the community.

When a chronically ill person talks about flare ups please stop say "I hope you feel better", we never fully heal, we will be sick until a permanent cure is found, so instead say "hope you have a good health day soon" or "I hope your pain eases soon"

If you are going to advocate for us you need to understand that accessibility is more than ramps and elevators, it's affordable and easy to access medicine, it's hallways always being wide enough for a wheelchair, special food like gluten free food being affordable, changing the school and medical systems, it's not a simple small thing that requires just a little money.

Learn to accept that you will be wrong and don't expect us to be nice about it. If someone suggests a diet, a vitamin, an exercise that we don't need it's exhausting, we get it all the time and they are never helpful, also you aren't disabled your joint pain from running is very different then someone with rheumatoid arthritis, don't related your experience because they are very different.

If you know someone who recently got recently diagnosed it's not your place to be sorry. The best thing to say is "I'm happy you found the answer, when you know what you need, reach out" different people will feel different about chronic illness diagnosis, it's not your place to tell us what to feel.

Disabled people can never escape capitalism, in the leftost revolution fantasy we're probably the first to die. The commune/van kid thing, we can't do that we rely on medicine, food, surgeries and all types of aides that are created in a unethical way, that primarily exploits us.

And if you are going to lead a conversation about body positivity and diet culture we need to be included. For diabetics, nerodivergent people with aversion to certain food, people with celiac, chrones and other disease that restrict our diets we will have a different relationship with how we eat and are forced into restrictive diets and have different nutritional needs. For body image I've seen very few disabled activist be included in the conversation, for people with mobility aids, missing limbs, "weird" joints, the fancy stomach bags that I forget the name of, cannulas, feeding tubes, cochlear implants and have their weight effected by their disability their relationship with their body will be different but they don't have a socially "correct body". Remember while size doesn't determine health, health doesn't determine value.

I've definitely missed things so please add them.

What a year this week has been.

What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.

You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to  her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all  busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself

but you killed everyone else around you too. 

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

At least it’s not cancer.

I can’t begin to tell you how many people have said to me, “At least it’s not cancer.”

I’ve known 5 people who have won their fights against cancer. Five. Two of them had stage 4 (my stepdad and my stepsister). My (step)sister had TWO stage 4s. And she’s been in remission for several years.

When you get a cancer diagnosis, it’s terrifying. I get that. I watched my stepdad and sister go through it. But the one thing they had that I never will is hope that one day it will be gone, if it doesn’t kill you first. My stepdad even joked with me, “I’m more likely to be cancer-free than you are to not be diabetic again.” And he was right. And he beat it. He’s in remission. And here I am. Wearing a machine to stay alive. Waking up at 4 am wondering where the hell I am and why I’m drenched in sweat. Stabbing myself every day. Hoping I took enough insulin, but also not too much. Worrying if I’ll ever be able to have children or if I’ll pass this dreaded disease into them if they make it to term. Doing all this while trying to pretend that I’m “normal,” whatever the fuck that means.

But you’re right… at least it’s not cancer.

Fuck this pandemic

I, like most other people, am so fucking done with the pandemic. I am sick and tired of being an essential worker that deals with the public on the daily in a city where case numbers are rising to extremes. I am sick of being treated awful by that public that I am trying my best to serve through this pandemic. 

I am sick of the anxiety that I feel on a daily basis, of being Type 1 Diabetic and therefore immunocompromised, and dealing with people who couldn’t care less about my safety and the safety of my coworkers. 

But I think that the thing that I am the most sick of is not being allowed to be with my family during these times. 

My sister and her kids live 6 hours away from me, but because of this pandemic, I am not allowed to go an visit them or spend special dates with them... No birthdays, no Christmas, no anything. 

My uncle passed away yesterday morning very sudden and much to the surprise of my family. And another uncle is very sick and in and out of the hospital with severe brain damage. But because I live in Ontario and they are in New Brunswick, I am not allowed to travel and visit my sick uncle. Nor am I allowed to travel to the funeral of my other uncle. 

I am heartbroken because of these rules. And in no way do I want to change them at the moment because I would not want to put anyone at risk, but I am fucking done with this pandemic. I am done with having constant anxiety while being at work and while dealing with the customers at my essential job and I am tired of not being able to be with my family during these hard times. I am not allowed to watch my nieces and nephews grow up, except through photographs and the occasional facetime call. 

Sorry to anyone who comes across this post for the rant, and I know that everyone is going through hard times right now due to the pandemic. This blog just seems to be the only place that I can let a rant like this out without tons of backlash.

me hanging out with black people in the summer: “aye, yall don’t forget to put on sunscreen”

them: 

A group of rough looking boys walked past me today and all I heard of their conversation was “he’s got that anxiety disorder bro so I went with him so he’d be more comfortable” and it made me realise the world isn’t all that bad