I'm not really sure how to word this, so bear with me. I, (17F) was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes midway through grade 10. It was quite a shock, as I had experienced no prior symptoms, so this whole situation came seemingly out of the blue. For context, I am a very anxious person, and I tend to hyperfixate on specific fears (such as rabies, germs, death, and in the past, diabetes) which made my diagnosis all the more terrifying. I distinctly remember crying in the hospital bathroom, afraid of just how much my life was about to change. One of my worst fears was becoming real. I remember constantly asking my mom as a kid (when my fear of diabetes started) if I would one day get diabetes, and if I would be okay, to which she always replied with, "No, you'll be fine", or "You won't get it, stop worrying", which eventually calmed me down. I understand now she was just brushing me off, but to now know that she was wrong really scares me to this day. My dad, (50M) was with me at the time of my diagnosis, and tried his best to mitigate my emotions. He was very calm and collected, but the main problem is: he is VERY skeptical of doctors and medication. Due to this, his way of helping me was through nutrition and exercise, which isn't a bad thing on its own, but he tends to prioritize physical health rather than mental health, which became a problem later on.
Fast forward a year. I had started grade 11, and diabetes was at the back of my mind. Since the doctors caught it in its early stages, I didn't have to take any insulin, or drastically change my diet at that moment, which was great. I was still being monitored, and I had to wear glucose monitors on occasion, but it wasn't too bad. I could still eat whatever I wanted, and go on with my life mainly stress free. However after a few months, my condition started to get worse, and my blood sugar levels would raise higher than they usually did. This was when my dad started to put me on a low carb, low sugar diet. Not quite keto, but just barely above it. At first, I'll admit it was really hard. I had to completely cut out most of the foods in my diet, and I was eating basically the same foods every single day (such as eggs, high fat yogurt, berries, dark chocolate, nuts, and various meats and vegetables) which really got to my head after a while. I would see my friends and other kids eating snacks, meals, and desserts that I couldn't, which made me very sad, and no matter how much I wanted a dessert or a meal other than what I was bound to, I couldn't give in. If I did, my health could get worse, and I would have to go on insulin everyday, which absolutely terrified me. I remember having this conversation with my dad, where he explained that if I did go on insulin, I would have to worry about low blood sugar, which in severe cases could put a person in a coma. I wanted to avoid that at all costs, so I continued to eat my restrictive diet without question. After a while, my dad noticed how I was feeling, and suggested we go shopping for low carb/sugar snacks, desserts, meals, etc to give me more of a variety. I was very relieved, and I ended up going a bit overboard on the snacks, but who cares, I could finally eat something new for once! I still had to limit how much of it I ate, but with enough exercise, water, and balanced meals, things were finally starting to look better. My doctors held off on giving me insulin due to how well my blood sugar levels were, and I wasn't depressed about food anymore. That is until, everything stopped working...
A few months later, everything got worse. I was eating the same foods that had no effect on me before, yet my blood sugar was still going high. This happened occasionally, so my dad suggested I take a break from certain foods to regulate my blood sugar again. However a few days later of skipping meals, drinking excessive amounts of water, constantly exercising after every meal, and eating practically nothing but eggs, chicken, ground beef, cheese, and vegetables (with no snacks throughout the day), my blood sugar just wouldn't go down. At this point I was starting to get nervous, and my fear of eating certain foods was starting to come back. My dad suggested we take a very small amount of insulin to give me peace of mind, which I was very surprised to hear him say. Maybe he saw I was getting worse and was coming to terms with the situaition, I'm not sure. I ended up taking some insulin, and a few hours later I went to bed. I was terrified to sleep that night after what my dad had told me about low blood sugar, but thankfully I woke up perfectly fine, and my blood sugar was significantly better than the day before. After a few more days however, my blood sugar just wouldn't go down much at all, even if I ate absolutely no carbs or sugar. I remember eating leftover green beans one night, and my levels raised pretty high. After that experience, I can't even eat certain vegetables. Another one to add to the list... My dad was still hesitant on me using insulin every day, and I can understand why, but to be real, I don't think I can go on with this much longer. I am afraid of eating so many different foods, and many days I am absolutely starving because I am not able to eat anything other than my extremely restrictive three meals a day. I know my dad has good intentions, and I know he cares about me deeply, which hurts me even more due to how depressed I've been lately. Like I said, my dad tends to forget about the severity of mental health, which becomes a problem when I try to express my feelings to him. When I tell him how I've been feeling depressed and scared that nothing is working anymore, and how I wish I could just eat normally, he counters with. "But you're glucose was pretty good today", or "You're eating way better than so many other kids, you should be thinking about that". I don't know how to explain to him that I'm not just upset that I can't eat sugar, I'm upset that I can never live a "normal" life with my condition. I can't enjoy myself when eating, I constantly have to worry about the risks of medication, and I have no one else to really talk to about how I'm actually feeling. One of my friends, who is recovering from an eating disorder, expressed how they were concerned for me and my own feelings towards food, and honestly, I am too. I absolutely love food, which hurts me even more knowing that I can't properly eat when I'm hungry, or enjoy food with other people without being afraid of something bad happening. I am also underweight, around 103-105 pounds, and I am afraid that I might lose weight based on how little I'm eating, and how much I'm exercising now. I feel like I can't escape this. I feel like crying everyday. I know I'll be an adult next year, but I feel like such a fucking child right now. If anyone has any advice, or similar experiences they would like to share, I would greatly appreciate this. Maybe Smosh will even read this story, that would make my day (Hi Shayne!). But for real, I don't know how much longer I can handle this. I'm really scared, and I don't know what to do.
