Hello, my name is Mo and I am a Diabetic

So, I am a newly daignosed diabetic.

What does that mean?

Well, in my case, that means panic, fear, horror, and guilt. A lot of guilt.

Why guilt?

Well, it stems from the kind of diabetic I am. I am type 2 (I think), which is the one where you have way too much sugar and your body is tired of dealing with it. Can we see where we going? Yes, of course we can. We're not stupid after all.

I am a fat boy.

My tummy is big, my will is weak, and the world is... was, full of many many many sweeties, cakes, biscuits, crisps... hmmm, drooling yet?

I indulged. Often and in great quantity. So, when the doctor looked at me, and said that I was diabetic, the first thought that popped into my head and has since not left was... I did this to myself.

Ok, yes, my family has a history of diabetes. My parents, their parents, my brothers, even my sister-in-law, which is just really really bad planning on somebody's part. So I was always facing this oncoming train, but I keep thinking that I could have dodged the bullet if only I had not had... several bars of 500g Cadburies chocolate every other day for years... Yes, I do cringe thinking back on it.

 

So, there was and is a lot of guilt swimming around in my heart, but you know what, it helps. My sugar is under control (with pills and abstinence) and the guilt helps make sure that I don't stray too far into temptation. The list of things that I can't eat is humungous and basically contains every food (and I'm not just talking about sweets and cakes) that I've ever had, wanted, or craved, so yes, I do slip from the righteous way.

My doctor says that things will get worse, that I'll never get better, but I try not to think about that.

Life is short enough as it is.