You Won’t Know

There’s a lot on my mind tonight.

For starters, our second show aired today. This week was probably just as grueling as last week, if only slightly less so. I had a major breakdown on Wednesday, and when I say major, I mean I started crying in school. It’s difficult to make me cry to be honest; in reality, there are only three things that effectively cause me to cry: my diabetes, my grandpa, and my anxiety/depression. It’s even more difficult to make me cry when I am surrounded by people. If I ever begin crying public, something is seriously wrong. However, I sought solace in my biology teacher, Mr. Leeson, from last year and it was one of the only times I can remember ever admitting that I wasn’t doing so great. Leeson is one of those kinds of people who I just really have a connection with, I don’t even know how to properly explain it. I’ve only ever had this type of relationship with one other person in my life, that person being my middle school nurse, Richie. I created such a strong bond with these two people, saying good bye to Richie on my last day of middle school was torture. They’re the only people who have been able to tell when I’m not doing that great, and they’re the only people I feel comfortable enough divulging my problems to, because I know they want to help me and want me to be happy. Leeson really, really helped me, at a time when I felt like I couldn’t reach out to anyone.

I recently just got home from a funeral. A family friend passed away. He was about 29 years old, and was on antidepressants. The pills were giving him breathing problems. On Monday the 25th, he had an asthma attack that became so severe, he had a heart attack. Walking into the funeral home, I couldn’t help but think of my grandpa, and Jesus it hurt. I miss my grandpa so much. I miss him with every fiber of my being. I miss him with every breath that I take. I just miss him so much. In two weeks, I will turn 16 years old and it will be my second birthday without my grandpa. I miss him so much.

I hate my diabetes. I hate it with a passion. I want to say I’m having a diabetes burnout, but I’m not, I’m just so sick of it. Is it really so much to ask that my pancreas work properly? Shouldn’t there be a cure for this by now? There’s too many things on my plate right now for me to focus on all of them. I don’t know.



So I may or may not be having a breakdown right now.

Yesterday was my 14th diaversary, and it was my best one to date. I really felt surrounded by love and it made the entire day so much less difficult than it usually is. I remember going to sleep last night thinking, I’ve made it through 14 years, I can make it through 14 more.

Now I’m not so sure. I haven’t injected since lunch at 11:30 because I’ve been at bowling (I had my first game today) since 2 this afternoon, and even though I drank soda and got back to school to chicken nuggets, I didn’t inject because I was surrounded by people at the bowling alley and it made me embarrassed. I’m still really embarrassed by my disease and it kills me. I found myself covering my sensor in public and I realized that as much progress as I have been making these past few days, it’s still so difficult. I’ve been so caught up in school and trying not to drown completely in all of my work that, as usual, I’ve been letting my diabetes care slide. I wish I had more help. At the same time, though, it’s my disease and I have to learn to take care of myself because I will eventually reach a time in life (I’m starting to guess I’ve actually already reached that time) where I’m just on my own and I can rely on no one for help with my disease. I’m 15 years old, almost 16, and I should be worrying about what my school thinks about me as anchor on our weekly show, not worrying that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night throwing up because I have ketones.

I have so much to do and instead I’m crying, writing on my blog. I’m at the point where I am so stressed I just shut down.I wish the good times would just stay for once. I’m tired of being sad. I’m trying of trying to be mature and be the adult. I’m tired of having so much on my plate. I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired.

-If you have the time, the song that is the title of this entry, Coventry by Old Gray, really describes almost exactly how I feel at this moment, and really the undercurrent of my emotions on a daily basis. I connect with this song on a truly personal and emotionally deep level-

When I Come Undone

My first week of school is officially over. I never thought so much stress, anxiety, and happiness could all be crammed into one week. 

My film class’s first show aired today! After multiple set backs and more moments than I would like to admit where we thought we weren’t going to have a show this week, we pulled through. A few of us, myself included, experienced multiple breakdowns along the way, but we got it done and the breakdowns were so worth the final product. I’m hoping that from this week, my group and I have learned a bit more and understand better what it takes to get the show done, and the coming weeks will be easier and not as unbearably stressful. I’m very proud of our work though, so incredibly proud. 

As I was talking to Ryan, my “third pillar”, he made me realize something very true. I met and have been speaking to Ryan since the summer before eighth grade, so for slightly more than two years now. I directed him towards our show, and upon watching it he was blown away partly from “how good it is” (his words not mine, even though it really it amazing) but also from the growth he’s seen in me that was entirely portrayed in the show. He told me that he knows I would never have been able to do something like this, anchor a show in front of my entire school, with a population of about 3,600, this time last year. I would have been wrecked by anxiety so much worse than I was feeling this week, to the point that it would have kept me from doing the show. 

I’m getting better. I am slowly but surely getting better, and I’m doing so on my own terms and by myself. I, of course, have helpers along the way, but for the most part, it’s all me. I was the one who finally decided I was sick of being sad all of the time and I was tired of not doing any of the things I love to do because I was too scared to do them, I was too scared of people’s opinions and criticisms. Not to say I’m not anymore, I was shaking all of third period waiting for the show to air at the last ten minutes, but it’s infinitely times more bearable now. I’m still scared, but no where near the same as before. As much as I would still like to see a psychologist, I don’t need one to get better. My willpower to get better is enough.

My diabetes is getting better as well, slowly but surely. Expect a long post about this topic on Monday, my 14th diaversary. I still have trouble wrapping my head around the fact that soon, I will have had this disease for 14 of my 15 short years alive. It’s such a huge part of me, but I’m learning that it is not all of me. I am so much more than my disease, and I am capable of so much more than getting stuck thinking about it.

I’m getting tougher. A year ago, I thought it wasn’t possible for me to be any more strong than I already was, and I was wrong. I have more willpower and incentive than anyone I know. I’m strong, stronger than anyone will ever give me credit for. I am enough for myself. 

I’m happy. I can’t believe it, but I’m happy. I want to cry.

i dont know

Please forgive my lack of posts recently, and for upcoming days. My first three days back at school have been the epitome of anxiety, lack of sleep, stress, and overall craziness. 

Never in a million years did I expect my sophomore year of high to be this intense and difficult. I’m honestly terrified. I already had my first breakdown of the year in film today, and if I had one this early in the year, I don’t even want to know about the rest of the year. 

I’m at a loss for words really. I’ve been having so many lows, I’m going to have to call my doctor soon. Every low seems worse than the last, and honestly, I don’t know how to explain to someone who does not have diabetes what being low feels like. It irritates me when my mother ignores my lows as if she doesn’t know exactly how serious a low is. A low blood sugar is a million times more dangerous in the moment than a high. The most accurate description I’ve found for a low is feeling like I am dying, that is what dying feels like, you feel your life and energy and the essence of your being fade and disappear from your limbs and then into the rest of your body and your heart is hammering and it becomes more and more difficult to breathe and it feels like you’re dying.

My thoughts are scrambled tonight. I’m in dire need of sleep. 


Today is Day 2 of my vacation and it was such a self-esteem boosting kind of day, even though it didn’t start out too great.

Basically, in the morning, I miscalculated my carbs for breakfast and my sugar dropped as soon as we walked into Universal. I was worried because we were rushing to the new Harry Potter area, and with my dad being a tremendous fanatic of Harry Potter, I knew it would be entirely up to me to treat my low. After walking into 3 different stores and still not coming up with anything to raise my sugar, I was starting to panic and my parents were no help whatsoever. My breathing was starting to become labored and finally, as soon as we walked into Diagon Alley, I bought an orange juice at a shop in there (very good by the way, they put brown sugar around the rim of the cup and it was delicious).

The day continued and started brightening up, despite the weather becoming progressively cloudier. My day really brightened when a trio of workers from the Harry Potter area walked past where I was seated waiting for the parade, looked at me and told me I was beautiful. It was just a passing comment, and it floored me because I really wasn’t expecting it, and it was impossible for me to keep the grin off of my face during the duration of the parade as dancers and people dressed in the costumes continuously came up to me, kissing my hand and hugging me. That entire experience really did wonders on my self esteem and I just still feel so good.

Really, it was mostly feeling like I am beautiful even despite my sensor. The entire time I’ve been on the sensor now, the one feeling that has yet to go away is that the sensor will make me less attractive than I am. I see it as a flaw that an endless number of people will not have but I do. Now, after today, I am fully prepared for Saturday when we go to Islands and I take off my shirt to go on the water rides. I don’t care what people think of my sensor (for now); my sensor is a part of me and it makes me no more or less of a person than I am without it. If someone has an issue with it, that’s their problem.

I had to take my sensor off of my back last night after getting to the hotel from a day spent in Hollywood Studios and Epcot. In the shower, it completely peeled off due to issues with the adhesive patch. It’s back on my stomach, although it is placed much higher on my abdomen in hopes that I manage to avoid it getting caught under harnesses. It was trapped today under the lap bar on Rip Ride Rockit, and although it was by no means a pleasant experience, it was bearable.

I feel good. Really, really good. I haven’t felt this good in a really long time, such a long time I almost want to cry because of it.


This Wednesday I will be leaving for a final vacation before classes start. I’ll be heading up to Orlando and going to the Universal parks and Disney World parks with my parents. I love going on vacation alone with my parents because, as bad as it sounds, I love how they treat me like an only child when it’s just us three. They spoil me and give me the attention they’ve neglected me from past years, and I love it.

However, by the same token, I’m slightly apprehensive about going on vacation. When we go on water rides, I usually plan ahead and wear my bathing suit top under my shirt, and bring a back up bra, so that when I go on the rides, I take off my shirt to keep it dry, go on the rides, and then go to a bathroom and put on my dry clothes so that I can be comfortable the rest of the day.

Now that I’m on the sensor, I’m thinking twice about taking off my shirt in a crowded park. I’m wearing the sensor on my back now, I thought it would be safer there for when I go on roller coasters. I don’t want to put up with the stares. I know people will be looking at me weird, I know that only few, if any, people will understand and I don’t want to put up with me. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but like everything with my disease, it does.

Today I purposely didn’t wear my bathing suit to my baby cousin’s birthday party because I didn’t want the other people in the pool to stare at me. I hate how different people make me feel by not minding their business. It just sucks.

I hope (really, I know) that by the time Wednesday comes around, I will more or less be ready to take on people’s indiscretion and try to not let the stares get to me.

It’s my final week before going back to school. I really, really hope it’s a good one.

Blank #9

I am about as excited as I have ever been to go to university. I am incredibly eager to be done with high school and *hopefully* go off to Stanford and begin my next phase of life, but I am also incredibly eager for what I want to major in. I love to learn, which is one of the reasons I love school so much. I have a thirst for knowledge that is never quenched. I would like to major in literature, hopefully to wind up becoming an editor for a publishing company, or even better, create my own publishing company.

As much as I love special-effects make-up, I don’t believe in myself or trust myself enough in order to make it my career. I only ever see myself failing and coming up short here and I don’t want to disappoint myself.


I have yet to fall into a slump. Every now and then I catch myself falling, slowly becoming immersed in my head, but I am able to stop and distract myself. I do think, though, that I need to interact with people more. I’m scared I’ll get too caught up in living through my books that I’ll forget how to live in the real world.

I desperately need to learn more songs to play on the piano.

In preparation for school, where I will begin my prison sentence in exactly 13 days, my nails are back to black, and it feels good. Bright colors really are not my thing.
I really hope I make more friends this year.

I made a new video for my YouTube channel after a week of thinking and contemplating if I regret making the channel, and I don’t. I need to vent to someone, and who better than faceless people who watch me talk to a camera. You can find the video below.