Look Who's Still Here

When I was young, or even only younger, I thought I could
So I guess I have a stress limit.  After diagnosis, I learned right away that

I can not structure a coherent sentence.  So I haven't written.  An actual conversation with me will test your patience.

In January, this exploded to new levels.  I don't know have a clue what to do and it has been more frightening than the diabetes diagnoses.  I'm not good with things I can't figure out.  Diabetes comes with instructions, meds, goals, actions that yield results (mostly), allowance of slight denial of the real d-evil* so life can be lived.  This, not so much.  I've enlisted as many resources as possible.  Thanks to those tools, an unbelievably supportive school and the nastiest stubborn streak I have ever produced (which is saying A LOT) we made it to the end of the school year.  It was day by day.  Hell, we've done day by day before, right!  But with this I feel lost and helpless.  We both emotionally collasped when school was finally done for the year.  We had some pretty dark moments.  I'm fucking scared.  She fucking doesn't deserve this!

Now that I'm typing this I can feel I need to type it all out but it is a story I don't feel free to tell in more detail than the post linked above.  My internal it could be worse-count your blessings chant does not have the same impact as usual.  But I know that will turn around.  I have my girls.  I have my job.  I have a place to live, food to eat and insulin.

Also, we are in the middle of that other D thing that has a 90 day waiting period in most states.

Need sleep*.  Yuck.  Sorry* so whiney.

*linked in honor of Pink and her our escape and something we can connect with - I'll take anything