Dear Diabetes,

Lately you've given me some troubles. Pesky lows in the thirties. Drastic drops during the night despite adequate carb consumption. Bruises from my insulin injections. Packing on pounds between the lows and fear of lows. The list really goes on and on...like usual.

But lately, I've also been ignoring you. I'm in the throes of my senior year of college. With tests every week, research for papers, and all sorts of miscellaneous assignments. Not to mention that my future is looming large in my mind, with only about seven months left until I'm thrown fully into adulthood. So I've ignored you.

I've kept my testing to a minimum five times per day. Stopped freaking out at the sight of crazy numbers. Let my logbook get behind. Avoided eating exactly right or counting every last carb. I've just let you go by the wayside, drifting around the sea like a speck of sand.

The only problem is that you aren't a speck of sand in my sea. You are a massive blob of oil mixed with my water. You seep into the depths. You coat its inhabitants with your suffocating goo. You spread far and wide over the surface. Basically, you're a major pest in my sea's happiness.

So I can't ignore you forever. I have to come back to the reality that the oil spill must be cleaned up, that the ducks and sea lions have to be cleaned, that my sea isn't pure with you in it.

I just can't bring myself to make that day today. I can't bring myself to stop ignoring you yet. Sixteen years of you, cleaning up your messes, explaining you away...I'm just tired of it. I want to live my life in the here and now. I want to go be a senior college student. I want to go a little crazy (well, crazy for me at least). I want to ace a test without worrying that you're going to make the nerves drop my blood sugar like a lead balloon.

There's so much that I want to do without you, so much that I wish you'd let me have. Like worry-free cheesecake on my 21st birthday. Like a margarita without a thousand blood sugar checks afterwards. Like a pizza study date, without the highs and lows. Like a date!

I think I'll keep ignoring you for just a little while longer. I'll let you do your thing...watching the averages until they soar out of my comfort zone, until I'm forced to pay attention to you again. I'll let you be the crazy one in this relationship. And I'll go be that senior college student, with her cheesecake and margaritas, and dates. I'll go study hard, write amazing papers, and excel in these last few months of "freedom."

I just ask one thing...please play a LITTLE nice. Just give me the courtesy to stop causing 37's in the middle of dates. Or waking up at 66 so I can't go for a morning jog. Just one or two moments of bliss would be nice.

If not, be prepared for a total beatdown when I do stop ignoring you. Because one day, I will kick you hard in the shins and make you cry. Cry for the days of unexplained highs, cry for the drops in the middle of the night, cry for all the crazy stunts you pulled in the prime of my life. Be prepared. And be scared.

Your least favorite fan,

Lindsey