Evenin‘, it will come as no shock surprise that me being ‘fun size’ has played a part in me being a dirty diabetic. Now, I say this with love. I’m fucking sick of it.
See, they told me I was diabetic because I was fat. They lied. They told me to lose weight when I was diagnosed. ‘it will get better or disappear‘ it absolutely did not. It made it worse. They lied.
Now when people find out they look at me funny and I know in their heads they are thinking…’ it’s because you clearly ate all the pies’. I mean I ate a few in me time but not that many. It annoys me when people say, ‘so are you on a diet now’? Now!? Now!? I’ve been on a diet me whole life!!
As I’m typing this I can barely feel the tips of me fingers. I’ve checked my sugar that much in the last few days. They have the audacity to change my meds so I can’t feel me fingers and I’m wick with a UTI and something that rhymes with brush. IYKYK. Unbelievable.
Want to give my dad a shout out. Thanks for the disease. I owe yi one! Not his fault to be fair.
I just don’t think it’s fair that I am riddled with this disease and someone who sinks any amounts of pints and eats so many kebabs has nothing. Yes I’m not the most healthy person and I have the odd ‘snaccident’ but come on, I’m only human.
I just get annoyed. I just want to be normal, before people say ’it can’t be that difficult’ it absolutely is. Try substituting white bread for shitty brown with yi beans and see how difficult it is. Or arranging to go out for a meal but having to check the menu for the only option that’s best for your levels and see how easy you find it. I’m starving as I write this, can you tell? its bollocks. Who needs a pancreas anyway!?
Anyway, I’m gonna go and have a yoghurt.
take care,
Ash Xo