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May 27th, 2012
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I've been trying to stick to my new diet and exercise plan in hopes to lose weight. I did a good job on exercise until this week and I've kept up the food stipulations for about four weeks now. Yet I'm not losing any kind of weight. I'm not looking more toned. I'm exactly the same.

 

And I am so frustrated. I know that losing weight doesn't happen over night, but I can't even seem to get half a pound off much less a significant difference to make me feel better. I have to say that doesn't motivate me to keep going.

 

Today, I splurged on food and got lunch at Chick-fil-a and didn't pick a healthy option. I haven't run since last Thursday although I did move the entire weekend. But I can't seem to get my tennis shoes on or my behind into the gym this week. I just want to sleep and eat.

 

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I spent quite a bit of last week in desperate sadness. My mom would call and I'd want to stay on the phone forever. When we'd hang up, I'd be overwhelmed. My mind raced with doubt of relationships, nostalgia for the past, and a general hatred for what my life was. It was the all too familiar signs of the mood issues I had that started the investigation into the rest of my health.

 

Back in 2006, I started having what I term "crying spells." Moments of complete hysteria brought on by absolutely nothing. Not the nothing of a stubbed toe or a snippy comment. The nothing of a perfectly fine life. And I'd suddenly be in tears. My overall mood stayed okay, determined by stress and outside forces. But these breaks were out of my own control, out of body experiences.

 

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So my mother was right (seriously, when do they ever get it wrong?). All those nights that I spent avoiding sleep, staying up too late with friends, or just battling my insomnia, she was right. She always said, "Watch your blood sugars!"

 

And I always thought, "It's just sleep!" Blood sugars and sleep have nothing to do with each other. No way. I'd continue on my way and forget that I was supposed to be watching those numbers because I didn't sleep enough.

 

But as it turns out, she had a point. This study proved that (and reconfirmed that) lack of sleep leads to insulin resistance. Even just one night of minimal sleep can cause a lack of insulin sensitivity. One night!

 

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I’ve had a really hard time with my writing/not writing lately. In December I blogged only once, and so far this month I’ve blogged twice.

 

This is kind of weird for me because I’m so used to writing so often. It hurts, actually, that I haven’t been doing more of it. It’s not for lack of trying, though. I’ve written countless Post-It notes to myself with blog topics and have every intention of writing when I get home and then I don’t.

 

And it’s not like I’m forgetting to do it, I just don’t do it. Or I decide that I’d rather do something else. I think about the Post-It note stuck to my calendar and about all the things I would say in the blog and how wonderfully eloquent I would be. And then I just don’t do it.

 

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One of the most frustrating things that happens to me, as a direct result of diabetes, is when a low causes me to lose memory, reason, direction, and control.  The truth is, there is simply nothing more trying for me.

 

This past week has been not so great on a lot of fronts.  Work is crazy, family life is stressed, and I've got a lot on my plate and not nearly enough time to get it all done and stay sane.  As a result, eating hasn't been at the top of my priority list.  Strangely, though my basal rates sometimes work smashingly when I'm not eating, there are days when the lack of fuel in my body ends up crashing me right out.  

 

Last night, was one of those nights.  I worked 9 hours, found out halfway through the day that I would likely be working 12 hours today, had a blacksmithing class (not so much a stressor, but physically demanding), and a rumbly night with someone who means a lot to me. 

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Everything seems to be all over the place lately. Despite catching up on school work and actually de-stressing this week, my blood sugars are bouncing like rubber balls in an airplane bin. My averages are up, yet I'm having rashes of severe lows. And by severe, I don't mean symptoms. I mean numbers and hypoglycemic unawareness.

 

Like last Thursday night, I cooked chili for a friend. Ate a giant bowl with cornbread, bolused for what I expected was way too little, and went on my way. Only to feel an urge to test a few hours later. No symptoms, just something in my brain saying that I should bite the bullet to test. And that urging left me staring at a 37. How?

 

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I wish I knew why it is that at the times we most need other people around us to comfort and support us, we find ourselves physically, technologically, financially, and psychologically unable to reach out to ask for that help.

 

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The morning after I realized my crappy moods were more than just deadlines and fatigue and hormones I made an appointment with SBD. I had really hoped to get in that day, but of course had to wait nearly a week.

 

I felt emotionally hung over.

 

Even my boss noticed that I wasn't myself and asked if I was feeling OK. All I could muster was "Yeah, I'm just feeling kind of down."

 

All the internet reading I had done said that things like lack of sleep/fatigue and stress can trigger symptoms of bipolar. I went to bed early that night, and the next morning at a photo shoot with a friend of mine and her family I surprised myself with how good I felt. Though, most of my irritability is directed toward my family, so maybe I shouldn't have been surprised.

 

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Last week's schedule was all over the place. I didn't have my usual class times, my tests were at very abnormal times for me, and I just wasn't home very much. And my logbook shows the effects of that lack of schedule.

 

My averages bounced from 103 to 246...not so steady of a pattern. And my daily blood sugar checks ranged from two checks to four...my average is five per day. On top of all that, my food patterns were really all over the place, waiting until 3pm to even eat or eating in the middle of the night on several occasions.

 

It really bothers me how necessary a schedule is for my body. I'm not an 8 to 5 kind of girl. I like to sleep in if I can. I don't want to eat if I'm not hungry. I generally hate doing the same thing every day. But with diabetes, it's hard to manage a life like that without totally wreaking havoc on my blood sugars.

 

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While I really hate being such a "Debbie Downer" this early in the year, I'm getting extremely frustrated with the red tape surrounding my mother's passing. The basic: we are still waiting on the life insurance to cut loose enough money to bury my mother. While she pre-paid the funeral expenses, she didn't have enough money to pay for a plot — and without the life insurance money, neither do we.

 

I'll spare the details of dealing with government-based life insurance (Mom was a Federal Government retiree). The funeral home has been as helpful as possible (which is actually very helpful, especially in terms of compassion and empathy), but the end result is that we are dealing with businesses, and at the end of the day, they need to report a profit (or at the very least, the lack of a loss).

 

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Michelle Kowalski
Michelle KowalskiMichelle Kowalski, a writer, editor and photography hobbiest living in Phoenix, was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in February 2005. In January 2008, as part of her quest to start on an insulin pump, Michelle learned that she actually has type 1 diabetes. (Read More)
Lindsey Guerin
Lindsey GuerinLindsey is a typical, yet unique, Texas girl who loves shopping, movies and reading. She loves to travel and take risks. She dreams of diabetes cures, never-ending cheesecake and her own airplane. The rest you can discover in her blog! (Read More)
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