You came unexpectedly. You have surprised me, exhausted me, confused me. You forced me to look for answers, but for a long time I was looking in all the wrong places. There’s no end to doctors, naturopaths, homeopaths, people who have no idea what’s going on. You hid like a rat and slowly gnawed at me until it was almost too late.
It’s uncomfortable to touch, I’m tired of walking, I’ve lost weight, and yet I refuse to face you. Then all the final results. I am diabetic. I need insulin. Without it, it’s a death penalty.
I did what I was told. But I cried and cried. I cried every day for a week until I got my first shot. The woman who helped me said, “It’s not your fault.” Even though she still felt that way. She found it difficult to love her body, accept you, and welcome you. She even though everyone told me I could live a normal life.
You made me restrict my diet, I was hungry because of you, and I was living a difficult life. Every time I wanted to open up, you asked me to close. Fear, fear, fear. fear of bass. Fear of heights. Fear of complications. fear of life.
I wanted to meet you. To accept you, to master you. I try to get it right every day. And for many years, I succeeded by devoting myself to boxing. Everyone saw my struggle, but no one could help. I felt that my education was incomplete. Was I lamenting my old life? I didn’t have time.
Things are different now. Thirteen years is a long time. Now that I don’t fight anymore, I want to learn from you. Perhaps this is not about my thoughts on how to master you. But it’s yours. What can you share? What can you show me?
Days of trusting, listening quietly, taking risks, acting with fear, and stepping out of the box to bring solutions. Rather than relying on external forces, I take you into my heart and whisper to you.
What does diabetes require?
You whisper back, “Compassion, love, acceptance, trust, rest, food that nourishes wholeness. Wild, free movement. Nothing you don’t need. Despite me, you can be you.” I want it.”
Diabetes Psychologist Membership
With great respect,
rachel