On September 18, I went to urgent care when it felt like someone was tightening a corset around my guts. Thought maybe I had some weird virus that was making life difficult. Did some labs, went home.
On September 21, I got a call from my physician: I am diabetic. The words reverberated around my brain and just hung there like smoke in thick, humid air.
Thus, my departure from social media for a month. I spent October re-learning how to care for myself, how to feed myself, and how to put myself first.
I’m happy to report that my blood sugars are within normal range thanks to a swift change in diet & exercise, proper medication, and actively working to reduce my stress. I’m down 19 pounds as of this morning which is also great. I feel like anything is possible. Like a goddess.
I’ve been working on my emotional, spiritual, and mental bodies for years, and I was starting to feel like maybe I was ready to make this happen for myself. Maybe I was ready to make the outside match the inside. But when I thought about getting back in the gym or eating clean, the motivation always felt shallow, vain, and not in integrity with my values. It still felt driven by societal standards. Like I just wanted to be smaller, to take up less space. I was getting closer, but I wasn’t ready.
And then Diabetes came along. Something serious enough for me to have to take action and maintain a healthy lifestyle, but not serious enough to be a big scare.
My Diabetes diagnosis is the best thing that ever happened to me. Truly.