Throughout my childhood, my parents constantly told me that I shouldn’t compare myself to others. Unless I had done poorly on my Year 12 English exam, in which case it was perfectly okay for them to ask me what scores the other guys in my class had obtained…
It’s easier said than done, right?
When it comes to diabetes, I am my own worst critic.
It’s so easy to feel guilty when I wake up to a number that’s out of range.
It’s so easy to place blame for a hypo that was caused by a lapse of better judgement.
It’s so easy to feel anxious about my future during times when my diabetes management might not be so smooth sailing.
Connecting with, and meeting other people with diabetes has been nothing short of amazing. Everyone has their own, unique story to tell. Everyone is passionate about their story, and the way that they manage their diabetes. I drank in the knowledge. I felt inspired, motivated, and dare I even say passionate about diabetes. I no longer felt so isolated, or so alone when it came to living with diabetes.
However after immersing myself in this world for a while, there also comes a point where I might begin comparing myself to other people.
Why aren’t I going for a run every morning?
Why am I not able to wear a CGM without letting it overwhelm me?
Why aren’t I eating clean?
Why don’t I have that hba1c?
Why isn’t my graph as flat as that one?
Why don’t I practice mindfulness?
Why am I not bursting with energy when I woke up this morning?
As amazing as this world is, there also comes a point where I have to put all of these perspectives into a box and focus solely on my own.
I am not that person who goes running every morning. I am not that person who is reading my latest blood sugar levels from an array of devices. I am not that person who is eating clean, super mindful and bursting with energy either.
I’m no Matt or Joe or Anna or Angela.
I’m just Frank.
And that’s all that really matters.