I Need To Accept That I’m Only Human
After writing about having a perfect week numbers wise, I already knew that I was on borrowed time. I knew that I was a ticking time bomb. I knew that sooner or later, I was bound to subside. And sure enough, reality hit me in the face yesterday morning as I woke up to a lovely blood sugar reading of 17.2.
It was no suprise, really. After riding on a high these past few weeks, I’ve been lulled into a sense of false security. In fact I felt so secure that even my mind was starting to agree, offering me words of encouragement to give into temptation.
“I did so well in that endo appointment today, I’ve bloody well earned that white hot chocolate from San Churros on the way home.”
“After all those hours of stable night time BGLs, I can easily afford one of Nonna’s cannoli and biscotti for afternoon tea.”
“One of those hot chocolates I saw them making on TV would go perfectly with my cannoli on this miserable day.”
“That Lindt chocolate is on sale for $1. I’ve been wanting to try it for ages!”
And there it was. By Monday it had gotten to the point where I didn’t even have to find a diabetes related reason to indulge in temptation. You can probably guess how the rest of that day panned out. A few squares of chocolate at lunch time. A few squares to bide my time until knock off. A few more squares because I’d already wrecked my blood sugar levels for the day. And finally, a few squares just for the sake of finishing the packet.
And so yesterday morning rolled around, leaving me with a number to think about. The number 17.2, to be exact. I live my life thinking about numbers. I go about my days judging myself for numbers. I eat, sleep, inject and correct in search of those numbers. And I will do absolutely crazy things in pursuit of those numbers. The perfect numbers.
But numbers certainly aren’t everything. A number doesn’t always define how much work I put into managing my diabetes. A number doesn’t define how good, how “normal” and how sane I feel when I get to indulge in treats such as that chocolate. And a number is certainly not something that will last forever. Because try as I might, every time I’ve come even close to achieving a run of perfect numbers over the years, I’ve subsided.
My point being, I need to accept that I am only human. I need to stop telling myself that those guilty pleasures are bad for me. And I need to stop justifying my choices and just be.
I need to tell myself that it’s these guilty pleasures that remind me that I’m human. It’s these small temptations that motivate me to keep going.
By being more accepting of those small temptations, I hope that I won’t feel the need to eat a whole block of chocolate again. And by being more accepting of those small temptations, I hope I’ll get back on track to keep at that winning streak.