but there comes a point when you stop feeling sorry for yourself."
then today i asked why.
i looked at the big beautiful woman of a desert sky and i cried out as loud as my heart could scream,
WHY?! WHY ME?!
and you know what someone said to me today specifically?
"if it was anyone else it wouldn't have meant as much to them."
i felt a pang initially.
but he was right.
some of us type 1's certainly go down the road of anger and depression. i've met them. the resent oozes out of them.
but others are like light. they don't retreat. they smile and spread and share and have found a way to make it work. this doesn't mean they're the extroverted loud-mouthed funny guy everybody can't get enough of. the type 1....representative of all. nope.
they're just them, inspiring everybody around them in their very own way.
and i'm just me.
we all carry our story around. the one that describes the day we got diagnosed and how everything and nothing and everything in between...changed.
so i philosophize everyday the meaning of all of this.
i am a walking dichotomy.
it's so painful sometimes i can't breathe. especially when dealing with the diabetes police, the people who know nothing about type 1 autoimmune-based cause, and of course, you can't forget the ones who think you just ate too many skittles or something...ya, i didn't try hard enough.
but other times i am proud. proud of my ability to buck up. proud of my ability to rise above such an unforgiving process of day-to-day living. proud of who i am; who i've become.
you should know that even though you are one of the 3 million who have type 1 diabetes, you are one in 3 million.
your story matters. your story is your own.
you can still do it all and live the life of your dreams.
i'm attempting to continue that this summer. i try so hard it makes me cry. but dammit, i'm not giving up.
i'm gonna keep running, even with these damn needles.