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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "emotional":

I live with an emotional eater. I know when he's had a bad day by the empty pint of Ben & Jerry's. I know he's had a God awful day when there's empty pints. So I was intrigued by the title of last week's "I Can Make You Thin".
If you've watched any of the commercials for the show, you've probably seen people tapping themselves on different spots of their body. It looks ridiculous. Absurd, actually. Well, that's the technique Paul McKenna teaches to overcome emotional eating. (READ MORE)

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I was talking recently with a friend of ours whose twelve year old daughter was just diagnosed with type 1. As much as I love my friend, her attitude toward her daughter and her daughter's diabetes scared me a little. She uses the phrase "It's that simple," quite a bit. For example, she recently informed me that she told her daughter 'Sit your butt in the chair and test your bloodsugar. You have to do it - it's that simple.' She continued by telling me that crying about diabetes is not tolerated in her house. (READ MORE)

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Today, I have had diabetes for twenty five years. And I'm not sure exactly how I feel.
I guess, lucky - my body is free, so far, of complications.
I also feel somewhat happy and strong - I mean, I started this journey as a scared, angry little girl and I'm here now - a somewhat accomplished, otherwise healthy, happy woman.
And I feel a little sad - for the weight of diabetes is surely heavy on some days. I don't let myself think of what life might have been like if I'd never been diagnosed - because - really, what would be the point? I think more of the constant juggle and the often unavoidable failures and the sheer relentlessness of diabetes management. And yeah, that makes me sad. (READ MORE)

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Imagine for a moment that I found a magic bottle with a a genie who popped out and offered me ten diabetes-related wishes (because I'm swell and clearly deserve more than three). Of course I wouldn't be allowed to just wish away my diabetes altogether. (It's the small print that gets you every time). I might ask the Beedies Genie for the following:
-- Hallucinogenic metformin.
-- A couch with special cushions that will make my body burn calories while I sit on my butt and watch Battlestar Galactica.
-- A super smart version of phentermine that can fool the body for longer than three months.
-- A line of Converse diabetic Chuck Taylors-- For that matter, any diabetic shoes that are both affordable and don't look like they were designed either for Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein or the whole cast of Cocoon.
-- Mandarin Orange Propell at every beverage fountain. (READ MORE)

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I've been thinking more about the possibility of adding insulin to my Type 2 treatment. My last post about it raised some interesting comments. I have a bunch of blood test results due in this week that will help make the decision too.
I do know that insulin is just a medication like my thyroid pills or the metformin I take. The only difference is the method of delivery. Since insulin is destroyed by stomach acids, it has to be injected to do any good.
I also know that it really does carry a stigma that other medications do not. For me, it seems an admission that I am not holding up my end of the bargain treating my diabetes. I should be losing more weight, exercising and eating better. I think just about everyone can agree with that statement - with Type 1, Type 2 or no diabetes at all. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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I love this time of year so much and there are dozens of reasons why. Christmas time elicits so many warm feelings of love and togetherness. My mind is instantly filled with great memories and thoughts. My body just seems to run on happy auto-pilot all the time. I just feel good. People in general just seem to be so much more pleasant. Everybody's energy is so much more peaceful and caring. I constantly wonder how the world would be if everyone would just stay in this peaceful mind frame year round. Wouldn't that just be amazing? I wish. Right? One of the things that I like the most is hearing all the Christmas songs.
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I am not an angry person. Or a sad person. Really.
Most of the time, I'm fairly easy-going. I don't dwell for too long on the things I can't change, I try not to let those niggling things get the best of me. I often try to look on the bright side. I'm certainly not one of those annoyingly positive people you'd like to punch because they're so cheerful, but I'm pleasant. And although I won't be rolled over and you better not screw with someone I care about - or you'll suffer my wrath - I don't go out of my way to pick fights or hurt anyone.
But then sometimes I have a low bloodsugar. And well, then - all bets are off. My easy-going nature often exits the premises of my body and "the beast" emerges. (READ MORE)

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