Guest Post – Crystal Lane

Today’s guest post is from Crystal Lane from Randomly capitalizeD.  She wrote a nice poem for today’s post

Break

So close yet so far
It’s within my reach
If I want to take it
But it feels like a dare
One I am not sure
I’m willing to take
Challenges abound
Constant change
Progressive movement
It’s stealth with it’s alluring
temptation of relief
After so long and
so many invitations
It all seems elusive
Want it is a given
Need it feels it must be
Yet the idea, the thought
puts me back in place
To reality I go
With a fake smile
and an attitude
I trudge through another day
Wondering if a true break
will always be out of reach

———

Diabetes, whatever the type, does not allow for a break. We are constantly managing. We are always aware and alert. Always. It’s consuming and overwhelming. It’s maddening and depressing.
Just for one day, 24 hours, I would Love to not think twice. I would love to just Be. Be me. Not have to worry or think or wonder or be aware. Just be me.
As much as I think about it I still ponder…. who am I really? My Type 1 Diabetes does not define me, never has. It is simply a part of my life. I manage it. It lurks, it yells, it does whatever the hell it wants while I constantly try to keep up.
And all the time I wonder. What would it be like? Would I feel like me? What would others see that maybe I would not?
It’s a delusion of sorts. It allures, it tempts. That elusive break from it all can be deadly. We all know this. We have seen it, heard about it. It’s scary. So does Diabetes scare us into trudging along this path none of us chose?
Maybe. It’s all about perspective, I think. We have a choice of where we place our energy, our anger and even our triumphs.
So even if a “real” break (relative, of course) is to never be I can tell you all, without a doubt, that a darn good break is just being around good people. Even if via email or chat or phone. Their presence is a relief. It allows you to release your frustrations. It allows you to vent, yell, scream. It allows you to laugh, to cry. It allows you to talk and more importantly to listen.
We are all here for one another in this community, in one form or another. We all cannot be there for everyone at all times, that is impossible. But always in the background, we get it, we do understand and we are ready to listen. Always ready to pump our fists in the air at the injustice of our pancreas. Broken Pancreases Unite.