Somebody New

It’s hard to not feel constantly defeated by diabetes. It’s hard to not feel defeated when the numbers continue to peak, but you’ve already bolused more insulin than you should have. It’s hard to not feel defeated when you need to ask loved ones to call at midnight and 3 AM to ensure you haven’t slipped into a diabetic coma while sleeping. It’s hard to not feel defeated when you must carry this weight around constantly.

A little voice in my head cries “I just want the needles to stop, is that too much to ask?” I don’t want to have to think so much before eating. I don’t want to weigh my food. I don’t want to force blood out of my fingers. I don’t want to monitor my life supplies. I don’t want to survive. I want to live.

Adhesive residue covers my body; my back and sides look more like the aftermath of a duel than skin. I gain weight and lose weight, gain weight and lose weight, gain and lose, gain and lose and gain and lose and gain and lose as my blood sugars fluctuate and stabilize.

The smell of maple syrup is one I’m all too familiar with for all the wrong reasons. The taste of cinnamon coerces relaxation while enticing conspiracy theories. Chalky artificial fruit flavoring triggers memories of summer camps and middle-of-the-night emergencies. There are test strips everywhere.

*Alarm blares* I check my sensor. I brush my teeth. I check my sensor. I pack my lunch. I prick my finger. I sit in class. I bolus. Wait ten minutes. Eat. Wait two hours. Check my sensor. Wait one hour. Prick my finger. Bolus. Wait ten minutes. Eat. Deflect stares confusion curiosity questions. Wait two hours. Check my sensor. Wait one hour. Prick my finger. Bolus. Wait ten minutes. Eat. Wait two hours. Check my sensor. Wait one hour. Prick my finger. Bolus. Don’t wait just Eat because my mother does not think about my diabetes. Eat because my mother forgets my pain. Wait two hours. Check my sensor. Prick my finger. Bolus. Pray to a god I don’t believe in. Pray I make it through the night so I can do this all over again and again and again.

Don’t think about how hard you work to live. Don’t think about how no one notices, takes the time to care, takes the time to love. Don’t think about how your mother does not need to wait to eat, so she forgets that you do. Don’t think about how your mother doesn’t see your suffering. Don’t think about your father and his selfish lifestyle. Don’t think about how he cares more about his own pain than yours. Don’t think about the needles. Don’t think about the vials. Don’t think about the alcohol and lancets and adhesives and sensors and test strips and measuring cups and timetimetime. Don’t think about the pain.

Push the pain away like a blanket when it becomes too warm. Fold the pain into a drawer. Now close the drawer and lock it. Throw away the key. Push the desk to the back, innermost corner of your mind. Get a new desk. A desk with no drawers because now you don’t have pain to hide. You have no pain.

Until three hours pass and it’s needles again. Until three days pass and it’s needles again. Until seven days pass and it’s needles again.

Push the pain away.

You have to think about living. You have to think about your choices, because you know more than anyone about their consequences. You have to think about what makes you happy and what makes you sad and what makes you mad and what makes you anxious and what makes you feel because that all impacts how your body behaves. Sometimes I want to turn off my feelings. I don’t want to think.

Sometimes, I ignore the needles. I don’t inflict pain. But then the pain comes and oh god it’s too much, is this what death feels like? it must be, oh god, I don’t think I can make it call the ambulance go to the hospital, is this what death feels like? A part of me dies every time. I promise I won’t do it again, and then I break that promise.

I didn’t ask for this life. I didn’t want it. Can I cancel this transaction and start over?

Sometimes, I ignore the needles. Sometimes, I want to die. Sometimes, I doubt that my life is worth this much work.

Is worth the needles is worth the pain.

Sometimes, Always,  I want a taste of Normalcy. Sometimes, I want to be Somebody New.


Life Itself

In 88 days, I will be living in the city of my dreams, the prodigal “room where it happens”. I will be given the opportunities of interning on Capitol Hill or volunteering at a number of non-profit organizations. I will meet people from around the world. And best of all, not a single person there knows me. I have no predisposed expectations to live up to. I can be a wholly new person and set up a new life for myself. This current moment is one I have been working for and dreaming of for over 7 years, and it is finally happening.

Now, I make lists of the valuables and in-valuables that I can’t live without; what books do I treasure enough to take with me, what image do I want to make for myself through the clothes I wear? I contact my insurance company and medical suppliers to see what my options are for treatment in what will be my new home. I register for disability services- something I never imagined I’d have to do, but know I must. I prepare for transition.

I have begun an exercise regimen and I am cleaning my diet. I have worn my CGM continuously for 2 months. My goal before I leave is to lower my HBa1C from 8.8 (in March) to 7.5 or lower, and I am currently on track to beat that goal. I’d like to lose some weight as well, but that goal is second to simply controlling my disease. I need to prove, to myself more than anyone else, that I am fully capable of being an independent adult and taking care of my health.

I am also learning when and how to ask for help. I lose no self-value in doing so and that lesson has taken time to learn, but the journey in doing so has been fruitful.

I am also remembering a lesson I taught myself through years of solitude: Let people go. There are people who enter your life to teach you, to guide you, and to support you, and once those people have served their purpose, they must be let go. There are some people who entered my life during my high school tenure whom I believed I could carry with me possibly for the rest of my life, but rapidly I am realizing that may not be the case. I wish them no ill will, simply that I need to let them go in order to continue becoming the best possible person I can be.

I am learning how to be happy. That is the most important lesson I can hope to learn in my life.


If you’re interested, once I move away I am planning on making a new blog to document my life in Washington, D.C. and eventually New York. I’ll link that blog here once it’s made.

Basic Instinct

I’m having a hard time believing in myself. Just having an overall difficult time believing I’m capable of being a good person, and having good intentions. I feel like I’m constantly fighting to convince myself to be the better person, and to not emotionally destroy people. Maybe I need better company. Maybe I need more time alone.

How do I convince myself that I deserve my lover boy? How do I pretend that I’m someone he should wait for? How do I fool myself into believing that, at the end of the day, I still deserve him?

I blame myself for a lot. There’s a lot that went wrong, has gone wrong, and is still going wrong, and I blame myself for a lot of it. At this point, I don’t know how to fix any of it. Instead, I just want to run away from it all. It’s supposed to be easier to just start over.

I don’t feel well, and I haven’t in a really long time. I keep trying to convince myself that I’m okay, but I’m tired of keeping up this façade. I want to go to a challenging and stimulating university, I want to be with my lover boy, I want to manage my diabetes, but most of all I just want to be happy.

My happiness has always been fleeting, too brief to truly appreciate. The only time it ever really stuck around was when lover boy and I were together. Every time I’m with him, I feel it. But look at how badly I screwed that up. Then again, would we be in the position we’re currently in if things didn’t end when they did? I don’t know. I have a lot of questions and not nearly enough answers.

I feel totally, abhorrently lost. I long for the days when everything made sense.

Fall in Love

You are my right person. You make my soul sing. You don’t make the bad feelings disappear, but you make them so much more manageable. When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything.

Baby, I will wait. You are so worth waiting for if you just give me the chance, if you want to. If you want to stay in LA when I finish school, I would be more than honored and happy to join you there. We’ll get a studio apartment like we talked about, you can work on commercials and music videos, I’ll write speeches and books, maybe even scripts. If you want to come to the east coast, get an apartment on Wall Street, baby we can do that too. The world is your’s and I will follow you wherever you choose to go. My work isn’t contingent on a location as much your’s is, I am willing to trade.

You would always tell me I am the master of my universe and in charge of my happiness, and baby, nothing makes me happier than you. Please, believe in us. Please believe we can make this work. I am willing to make sure it does, but only if you are too.

You give me reasons to be alive. You give me the ability to be happy. You give me motive to be a better person. I want to spend my life with you, but only if you do too.

The Other Side of Paradise

I don’t know where to go from here. I’m feeling more than a little lost. I do not open myself up and allow myself to be vulnerable, because if I do, I only invite pain.

Pain and me, we go way back.

~Yes, I am upset that you aren’t giving me attention anymore. I am not ashamed of that. You were my father figure, my role model, I looked up to you for everything and anything, For years, you were my steady hand of guidance and my source of peace. Of course I am going to be upset when that all leaves.

You were there when my dad cheated on my mom. You saw how that destroyed me. You saw how that destroyed my ability to maintain relationships with the people I loved most. You helped me through it all. You help me regain my footing, find my balance, hold my chin up, and power through it. You repaired me.

You were there when I cheated on my soulmate. You built me back together. You taught me how to believe that I could make myself into a better person after it, right my wrongs as much I could and then some. You helped me find who I was, and work toward becoming a better person, someone worthy of my platypus. I still may not be that person, but I’m working toward it, because of you.

How am I supposed to feel when everything you’ve taught me, everything you instilled on me, you turn your back on? When you cheat? Have you no remorse? Do you look at yourself in the mirror? Do you see who you’re hurting? Do you care?

How am I supposed to pretend I deserve to have him back in my life, when you do this? When you show me that “once a cheater, always a cheater” may just be true? How am I supposed to believe in myself when the person whom I believed in most thinks he can deceive me and those who love him in this capacity?

You try to coerce me back in with macarons and empty “I love you”‘s, as if I don’t see right through you. You underestimate me at every turn.

“You are the most important person in my life outside of my immediate family.”

Bullshit. Total, complete bullshit. I’ll never understand how you have the audacity to continue lying to me like this. Who are you trying to fool? Because it’s not working on me.

Not the love note you were expecting, right?

~My soulmate. You make my heart skip a beat, and today, it may just stop beating altogether. I will wait as long as it takes, but I am terrified. What if you find someone better, someone more deserving of you, someone that won’t hurt you? I can’t compete.

You are the best thing to ever happen to me. You have the most genuine soul of anyone I know. You walked into my life when I needed you most, and you’ve been there for me at every turn. I have oceans of love for you, waiting for you.


“Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth ‘You owe me.’ Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the sky.”

You light my world.

A Lack of Color

I wouldn’t call Tuesday an overreaction, but a gut reaction. Over time, and especially since seeing him, I did the one thing I was supposed to avoid at all costs: getting attached.

I love him. He loves me. We know this. He is my world as I am his. The distance is too great to make this any shade of easy. The distance itself isn’t even the problem; the real problem is how intense his workload is, to the point that simple texting is unfeasible for him. I know if he tried harder we could make it work, but I don’t want to ask that of him. He has too much to focus on and I don’t want to be a contributing factor to his stress; inversely, I want to be a source of relief and relaxation. I can’t be that person if I get attached.

I brought up spending a month in the summer with him, and he said he’s discuss it with his mother. It wasn’t a no, which gives me hope and I am allowing myself to hope, even if it’s just this once.

I miss being loved. Life is lonely and it isn’t easy.


“A bit” turns from minutes to hours and you know, deep down, that he probably won’t call at all. History is repeating itself and you’re falling for the same mistakes; I thought you’d have learned by now, Leeny. You’re all you’ve got.

I thought we agreed there’s no use in pining after a boy, even if it’s that boy. You have more important things to do, things of more substance and importance. You cry tonight, but tomorrow, you put on your big girl panties and you go out to conquer the world. Save your tears, they don’t change anything anyway.

You know he needs to take the job. You know he needs the experience. You know he needs the opportunity. You know he needs the money. Tell your heart to shut up already. So you don’t see him now, he’s still going to your graduation…right? Unless a job pops up, of course. But you can’t be upset at that. He is building himself just as you are building yourself.

I know you’re a whirlwind of emotions right now, Leeny, but come on. You’re better than this. You need to be better than this. So everyone you know and love is abandoning you; you’ve been through worse. If you can fight through diabetes, you can fight through this. You may not be religious, but you still believe everything happens for a reason. Some day, this will all make sense. Remember that. Keep your eye on the prize, baby girl, even if you don’t know what the prize is yet.

Remember the happy moments, but don’t live in the past. There’s an entire future waiting to be made.

Dry the tears. Raise your sugar. You’re better than this. Chin up.

Amor que mata

Doe eyed star gazer

You entered my life when I needed you most;

your blanket of comfort became my home,

your voice became my favorite sound,

your dirty hazel eyes became all I needed.

To you I said “Here,

Have a piece of my soul,

I know you’ll take good care of it,”

And you never let me down nor proved me wrong.

Now, I sit at your house with your mother and grand mother

Trading stories about your unreturned phone calls

And your latest school project.

With them I find comfort knowing I’m not the only one missing you

Like an amputee misses their lost limb.

There are times when I let myself slip,

When I think of you more than I want to

When the memory of you threatens to break me

When I lay on the couch in your living room

and it feels so normal, it’s almost home;

But it’s not home if you’re not here.

To my shepherd boy on his nineteenth birthday,

Thank you.

You saw me not for who I was, but for who I could be.

You taught me compassion when all I knew was pain.

You showed me that maybe,

just maybe,

I deserve more than I’ve allowed myself to receive.

In my thoughts of you, I always remind myself:

“How lucky I am to have something

that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

I will wait as long as it takes if it means I’ll never have to say goodbye again.

Happy Birthday.

Long Way Down

I’ve had a few days to think and reminisce, and I feel that I now have a better opinion on the events that transpired while at competition last week. I understand better now my feelings after distancing myself a bit from the source of my problems.

What I mean to say is, you abandoned me. You were my lifeline for the past three years, my constant, my go to. You were the father figure I lacked growing up and that I desperately needed, and even more desperately wanted. I felt I could trust you with my life, and I did on many occasions. You threw all of that back at my face.

Once again, I was forgotten. I was a side piece that could be discarded without a second glance. Meaningless, worthless, valueless. You reminded me of all the reasons I long to escape this city so badly. You transported me back to a time when I didn’t want to be alive. You, who was supposed to be my hero and confidant, made me want to die.

I was marginalized, ostracized, by none other than the person who made me feel I could make a change in the world. You empowered me, as you so like to say, only to completely tear me down without a hint of hesitation. You weathered down all of my defenses only to remind me why I built them in the first place. You made me return to the angry, distant, and cold-hearted person I used to be and grew terrified of. You made me feel heartless.

All of this without so much as an apology; even less, an explanation. I asked for honesty and was met with lies upon lies upon lies. And yet, you’re confused as to why I am so angry. You disregard my emotions, just as I as a person grew used to being disregarded altogether as I was growing up.

You stripped me of my self-worth and self-confidence. You transformed me into a frail and volatile carcass of a person who has trouble identifying left from right, and now, up from down. What was my most prized creation has slowly turned into a prison where my motivation is entirely sapped. For what purpose?

To what end? Mostly though, why? I feel I deserve at least an explanation.

Black Out Days

I write because it’s what I feel the most secure at doing, even if it’s not what I’m best at. I’ve always struggled to communicate well with those around me, but the struggle is alleviated, even if only slightly, through writing.

The past week was a larger test of my patience, skillset, and demeanor than I ever could have imagined beforehand. I’m left feeling thoroughly underwhelmed after competition, and more than a little slighted. I know that I made some of the best work I ever have, and those around me recognize that as well, and it’s a shame that more people didn’t feel the same way. I want to feel this intense fervor to work harder and push more boundaries, but I’m currently left asking myself what the point of any more effort is if it will only be overlooked once again.

What is diabetes but a mountain that I try to climb over but only ever fall off of. I am trying desperately to get back on track, I truly am, but there are more pebbles to move than people think.

I saw him. I touched him. I laughed with him. I kissed him. I spent the day with him and everything was right and everything was okay again. I can live without him, I have for this long and I think I’m doing okay, but I want to be more than okay. God, this boy gives my life so much color and vibrancy and clarity. I was with him and I was filled with this overwhelming sense that if everything wasn’t already okay, it would be soon. I’ve lived for months seemingly hopeless, drifting through life doing what I believed I should be doing and wanted to be doing, but after this one day with him I felt hope. I felt hope for the first time in months.

He comes back in three weeks and I’m counting down the days. My platypus, my sloth, my love, my life, is coming home even if it’s just for a few days, and for those few days I will be whole once again. I cannot wait.

And finally, you.

I know you’re reading this, you read all of my posts. I spent the rest of the week doing my best act at being civil because I didn’t care to illicit more drama than our first few days in Cali did, but the trip is over and I can behave how I wish. You had the audacity to ask me to delete my last post, the audacity to lie to my face, the audacity to pretend that nothing is happening. I wonder how stupid you genuinely believe me to be. This is so far beyond he said- she said; I have pictures. I have textual evidence. I don’t know who you’re trying to fool. I’m not going to school tomorrow to avoid having to interact with you, at least for one more day. You have sapped all of my expanses at being compassionate and understanding. You said you chose me and you lied. Again. And now, I am done.

I want you out of my life. I want all of the pain and suffering and discomfort you have caused me to disappear. I want to go to New York to escape my family, to escape my problems, and to escape you. I want to get as far away from you as possible. You do not deserve an ounce of me and what I have offered. You deserve less than trash.

I genuinely hope you learn to live with yourself, the mistakes you’ve made, the life you’ve chosen, and without the people you chose to abandon, the people who looked up to you, the people who respected you. I hope you’re okay with being a pathetic excuse for a role-model.

If I go to FSPA, it will be for Danny, not you. I don’t want to see you at graduation, and if I do, I need you to stay as far away from me as possible. You will not ruin that day for me.


He is coming in three weeks and all will be well. “I love you. I never stopped.” My love, you never stopped filling every crevice of my life. We will make it work.