Would You Like a Side of Guilt With That Candy Bar?

Guilt.

It's perhaps an unlikely thing that you would think Diabetes makes me feel - but it's the one thing I find myself feeling most.

Numbers that read higher than they should be, a slice of frosting-laden birthday cake, even going out to eat.
My numbers were great in Florida, but I am struggling a little while getting back in the swing of things in Georgia. My sugars are higher than I'd like from late night baking sessions, going out to eat, and entertaining at parties with little time to bolus or snack quickly in between. Would a pump make life easier? I don't know - I won't until I figure out what happens with insurance and where I'll be standing in regards to how I'll pay for insulin. Apply for Georgia Medicaid and hopefully make it in? I'll have to give up my Florida citizenship, but for insulin, it might be worth it - I hope to go to Grad School here anyways. Either way, until the issue gets solidified, on insulin shots I will stay.

I am frustrated sometimes, because my higher sugars have led to more shots throughout the day and you can see visible pinpricks and tiny traces of bruises. There's only so much skin you can find to inject into. I do not like feeling bad for eating anything but eggs in the morning, I do not enjoy worrying about what the bite of brownie batter will do to my BG, and I hate eating dinner with everyone but having to avoid most of it because I don't know the carb count. It sucks. I wish I was normal. I hate seeing my sugars high. I know it can get better, but the effort is hard. I don't want to control my food habits like a perfect angel. I want to have a bite here, a taste there, a chip here, maybe half a cookie whenever. I cannot. My sugars require constant maintenance and slacking for even just a bit always seems to send them soaring back up.

Hopefully my sugars will be more controlled once school starts back up. I'll be more active, and hopefully be eating more healthy. No unhealthy snacking for me - I'll have a carefully stocked kitchen and try to eat well in the dining hall.

I just wish it was by choice, and not by mixed feelings of guilt and obligation.