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Blogging is difficult for me sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I love this website and everyone associated with the Blogabetes community. Each and every one of you continue to be an enormous help. I can come on here and rant and rave to the ENTIRE WORLD about my life with diabetes. I make friends, I laugh, I tear up, and it's all wonderful. It's fantastic and I have no doubt this will continue to be an extremely helpful thing for me and everyone else too. At times though, the only thing I crave is complete and utter privacy, freedom from the world of diabetes and from everything. The last thing on my mind is the desire to share one more personal diabetic experience with the world.
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My fellow Americans...I have depression. Or, I am depressed. Or, I am a person with depression. How ever you choose to say it, depression is a condition--like diabetes--that I deal with every day.
I was first treated for depression after No. 1 was born. In retrospect, the depression seemed almost instant after he was born. It took several weeks, yes
weeks, before I realized that my desire to "put him back in" so I could be pregnant for the rest of my life wasn't normal. He was about six months old when I felt confident and comfortable enough to wean myself off anti-depressants. I seemed to manage just fine after that. But one of the first questions I asked my OB when I was pregnant with No. 2 was how likely I was to get depressed again. I was devastated when she very bluntly said "pretty good." Although I thought I had beat post-partum depression, several days after No. 2 was born, I recognized the signs and promptly got back to the doctor.
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There have been a couple of items in the news lately about type 2 diabetes and depression, stating that people who have type 2 are more prone to depression.
This, to me, is one of those duh articles. It makes sense that someone with a chronic disease would be more prone to depression. It's hard. Constantly thinking about food and dosing makes ME depressed sometimes - I can't imagine how it would be to have the disease.
I worry about this for Olivia. I suffer from depression and there's a good chance that she could inherit that tendency, too. I hope she doesn't, but the odds are there and they worry me.
It's not bad enough to have diabetes, to have the day-to-day drudgery of taking care of a chronic condition but to also have the threat of depression hanging over her seems unfair, like it's too much to ask of her.
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A
study published in the December edition of Diabetes Care magazine (an ADA publication) examined the links between diabetes, depression and mortality in older adults.
Not surprisingly, untreated depression led to a much higher death rate in 5 years than if there was depression intervention. Intervention was either an anti-depressant or psychotherapy.
It is difficult to take care of all the aspects of this disease on a good day, when you're depressed it's nearly impossible. How hard is it to go out for your daily walk when you just want to keep your head under the covers?
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Yesterday was just a crappy day in general. I think my brain was just working overtime which is never good for me. I try to keep the
depression that comes with having diabetes at bay but sometimes it is overwhelming. Sometimes it seems nothing will get me out of it.
I have found the best way for me to get this junk out is to get it out literally literally! I write my blog here at dLife and
my personal blog. I share the good times and bad. So many times I have thought, "no one wants to hear about my cruddy day" but whenever I have, someone else has commented on how they too feel that way now and then.
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This past Saturday me and 14 others walked to raise money to fight diabetes. It was the
American Diabetes Associations "Step Out to Fight Diabetes" walk. I posted about this a few weeks ago but at that time, only my wife and I had signed up.
To have so many people walk, friends and family alike, was just awesome. I felt so supported, so loved and cared about.
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My view of diabetes changes with the tides it seems. Sometimes I look at it as a lifestyle that I must adopt to stay healthy. Sometimes I look at it as a challenge in which I can take on and beat. Other times I look at it as a curse.
Right now, I look at my diabetes as a battle. A battle that I don't want to fight. Not now.
The problem is all of the fighting will never stop. We just fight and fight and there is no winning. No matter how much I stay in control or how much exercise I do, I will still have diabetes. My a1c can be the same as someone without diabetes but my battle will continue.
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This last weekend was a busy one. Between soccer, church, and work we were not able to find the time to do our regular Sunday grocery shopping.
So come Monday I knew I would have to pick up lunch instead of bring it with me to work. For the last 3 months I have completely fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon. I have gained some weight and frankly, I am not in the mood to care right now. Life has been a struggle lately and unfortunately my weight loss drew the short straw.
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When I woke up this morning I didn't notice anything different. I heard my kids running around getting their stuff together for school. I sat up and walked directly to the bathroom to shave and shower as I do every day. I turned on the water and sat my pump on the counter just like yesterday and a lot like tomorrow.
Before I wet my face I caught of glimpse of myself in the mirror and stared at the infusion site on my stomach. I saw this medical device stuck to me like an IV or something. I noticed the curliness of the 43" tubing running from the site to my pump. I looked at my face and saw a tired guy. A guy that has a lot of choices and plans foiled because of this disease.
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It was mid-afternoon as I strolled into the local pharmacy. I needed more Novolog insulin pens and today's trip would prove itself as unsmooth as usual. The diabetic smack in the face did not come for me, however, but for the slightly unsorted diabetic fellow ahead of me.
This day's pharmaceutical quest was not stunted by the feared insurance decline, or the "too early" for a refill drama. Not even the "out of stock" song from the pharmacy tech, or wrong sized needles being slid over the counter. It was simply an, "I'm sorry, I can't help you" interaction.
Unsorted Diabetic: What do you mean I can't refill my syringes here?
Pharmacy Tech: I'm sorry. I have no record of you as an approved customer.
Unsorted Diabetic: I don't usually get my refills here. I was just in the area.
Pharmacy Tech: Some muffled explanation and seemingly helpful recourse.
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