Why Didn't You Tell Me?

My blood sugar is 102. Which means that I will now get off of my bed... drag myself into my kitchen... and start gorging. I am running out of food. It doesn't matter. I'll eat Cheerios I bought months ago. I always end up saving things... hoarding food items... just in case I need sugar... like I need sugar right now.

I kept a quarter of a sandwich, unwrapped, in my car, in the summer, for three entire weeks.

Diabetes has turned me into a very frightened and very cautious wild animal.

So kitchen. My blood sugar will drop. I do not know if I am using my long acting insulin properly. I haven't seen my endocrinologist in a long time. I could ask her so many better questions now that I've covered the basics in medical school. I think the only question I really want to ask at moments like this is: Why didn't you tell me I could end up this way?


So kitchen. I am hungover. It is almost eleven at night and I am hungover. I am also exhausted. I have slept nine hours in the last two days. I am also in caffeine withdrawal. I have ingested 560 mg of caffeine today. All within three hours. My head hurts but I can't drink alcohol. I want alcohol. Or at least wine. I feel like vomiting. I will vomit. I am going to vomit. But still I have to eat.

I want to drink down five sleeping pills with a tall glass of plain, filtered, great-lakes-quality water. But then I might not wake up. I go to sleep so often wondering if I'm going to wake up the next morning. Late at night sometimes, just for fun, my heart starts beating so fast that I have to listen, and it makes me know that yes, tonight could be the night. Tonight could be the night that your blood sugar drops at two in the morning and you are too tired or too drugged out to wake up. Tonight could be the night. I do not want to eat. But I do not want to die. I don't think anyone my age thinks about dying in their sleep as much as I do. This cannot be normal. Why didn't you tell me I would end up like this?