Let My Voice Be Heard
I was yelling at mom again this weekend, it seems to have been more of a regularity this week than usual, I was going on and on about how she doesn’t understand. At one point she said something that really hit hard (but I didn’t tell her that) she said “you pushed us away, you wouldn’t talk to us, you wouldn’t let us help.” Of course, I had my reasons, and I readily retorted “you wouldn’t listen. you didn’t understand when I was having a hard time so why should I have shared? Nothing you had to say was useful or constructive…” I went on and on, but in reality, much of what people don’t understand is because I don’t share. There’s no voice to be heard because there’s no talking on my part.
What people usually hear is anger, they see tears, and most of the time they don’t understand why. They don’t understand that it’s not me being hormotional half the time. That half the time what they’re seeing/hearing is the result of low or high blood sugars. Only recently have I started explaining what’s going on and if they’re seeing something they might need to speak up and ask if I’ve checked my blood sugar.
People sometimes see my pump hanging off my pocket of my jeans. They ask from time to time, “is that a pager? is that a cell phone? man, that’s an odd and bulky looking mp3 player.” In the past, I may have given a sheepish smile, and comment “no, it’s my insulin pump” and quickly steer away from that conversation. I wasn’t one to share what I was wearing an insulin pump for, I didn’t want to hear the words “gee, you must have it bad” (in reference to my diabetes) and have to explain that I didn’t have it bad, I had type 1 diabetes and my pump is pretty much my life line, my life support. No, in the past, I wouldn’t have said much. Now a days, there’s a little bit more of a conversation, I will entertain their questions and their lack of knowledge for a short while. Not for particularly long though, it still annoys me that I have to talk about it.
I used to decline participating in activities. I’d make up some workable excuse as to why I couldn’t do something on some such weekend. At home I’d be yelling at mom because I didn’t go because I didn’t want to have to stop whatever was being done in the name of checking my blood. How uncool would it be to be hanging from the face of a rock and say, “hey can you just hang on to the rope for a minute while I stop and check my blood sugar?”
Now, I’m out there in full force (most of the time), cycling mostly, letting people know about my diabetes, unashamed to share (it helps that the environment in which I’m sharing is centered around finding a cure for diabetes, but hey, at least I’m speaking up).
Now, I write about just about every aspect that diabetes interferes with my life (because that’s exactly what it does, it interferes).
I’m growing when it comes to talking about my diabetes in general. But more often than not, it does get discussed. Of all the things I say though, where my diabetes is concerned, I want this to be heard most:
I may only be one person with Type 1 diabetes, but I’m one person in a group of more than 2 million. Type 1 Diabetics are approximately 10% of the diabetic population. I have lived with Type 1 Diabetes for 16 years even though I don’t always openly discuss it. I’m looking at at least 7 more decades of this disease if a cure is not found. You may not see it, but I feel it every day, every hour, every minute. It’s there with me physically, emotionally, and financially. This is my voice, let it be heard; we deserve to be cured.
RAISE YOUR VOICE and let people know that diabetes is not invisible.
3 Responses to “Let My Voice Be Heard”
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Great post. Thanks for sharing that. I especially love the last line…
HA! thanks, I stole the last line from Kerri.
[...] be heard especially when it’s over some heated something or other (but there are times when I don’t say a word or I speak very little, and yes, I’m aware that those times don’t happen very [...]