I’ve never been one to “eat my feelings.”
There’s a simple explanation for that. I’m a type 1 diabetic (no, not the type of diabetes your grandma has…though if she has type 1, go her! she’s survived through a lot of life with a very difficult disease) and everything I ingest has to be accounted for. I have to meticulously measure, weigh, assess, consider and watch what I eat. I am intensely intimate with every morsel that passes my lips. When I don’t take care, my health and my sanity suffer. On the other side, I am dependent on food. If my blood sugar goes low and I have nothing with me…well I could end up comatose or worse. So the idea of eating lots and lots of food not only disgusts me, it just sounds like a lot of work.
But the other day I happened to give it a try. This roller coaster of living in limbo has been weighing on me. Particularly when it comes to my diabetes. I rely on medicine to stay alive, and what the doctors here don’t seem to understand is that I use that medicine daily. They haggle with me to provide enough prescriptions. Then when I do finally have the prescription, the pharmacist informs me that I’m too late, the prescription was only good for a month. Though I’m only three days beyond that, I still can’t have the medicine that I require to continue standing upright.
While making a fool of myself on the walk home (tears littering the sidewalk and sobs hidden behind cursory coughs), I didn’t even consider eating something to make myself feel better. I just kept walking and waited to really begin bawling once I’d closed my door. Then I played sudoku to calm myself.
I started to feel shaky. In typical fashion, I refused to believe that my blood sugar was low, so I ignored it for a few minutes. But it just got worse. So I jumped up to test my blood sugar. Lo and behold, the stress had dropped me so I was yet again required to eat something. Even as I was stuffing my face, I was measuring and weighing and calculating. I even downed a bottle of water in the midst of the junk food. Even when I want to let go and eat my feelings, I can’t.
Honestly though, I’m ok with that. I like that I eat like a bird. I do wish I had a healthier relationship with food, but I think I’m ok with it as it is.
I had no idea it was so difficult to get diabetes treatment in Germany. That’s crazy, it’s not like you’re trying to get high on the stuff, you just want to *not die* :-/
Exactly how I feel. I mean, it’s not that it’s that hard, it’s just that they are giving me trouble over it. Which ya, makes me feel like they think I’m selling some of it on the black market.