Yesterday, as I sat in the waiting room to see my endo, I couldn’t help but feel that I was walking into a wasted appointment. I had seen her about six weeks earlier and left with promises to myself of being more engaged with my diabetes care. I promised I would have my blood work done. I thought about goals and how I could work to achieve them.
And yet, there I was, waiting to go in and wondering what the hell I had to say to her. There would be no discussion of lab results. I haven’t gone to pathology to have the checks done. There wouldn’t be any pulling out of data for me to show her – I hadn’t been logging anything. I was pretty much in the same state of mind about my diabetes as I had been last time I sat waiting to go in to see her.
I was wasting her time and I felt really bad about it. Not that she would ever tell me that. In fact, not that she would even be thinking that. But it’s how I felt. I have such respect for this endocrinologist, and I felt that in some ways I was actually being disrespectful in showing up so unprepared.
There were no tears yesterday. But there was an honest and open admission from me that I need help. I have tried everything I know to try and pull myself out of the motivation slump I have been in for so long. There are been periods where things seem to be better and I am able to make more of an effort, but they are fleeting and before long, I am back to feeling burnt out.
Let me be clear – I am not completely ignoring my diabetes. I am bolusing insulin at all the appropriate times; I check my blood sugar, albeit nowhere near as much as I know I need to – or that I would like to; I have started seeing my endo again. I eat well. At no time has diabetes completely fallen off the radar. But it certainly has deviated from being as much of a focus as I would like.
It’s not the mechanics of diabetes that is the problem. It is the trouble-shooting and problem solving and thinking about diabetes in a way that makes me feel confident that I am dealing with my health and wellbeing as much as my blood sugars. But I’m not doing that. I’m in a fog of burnout from which I now know I am unable to emerge without some real help.
I can pinpoint the source of the burnout; I can trace its progression; I can see why it happened. I understand all of that. I understand that dealing with the loss of our baby following a miscarriage and all the things that happened around it were often all I could deal with – both at the time and for periods since then too. But even though I have words to explain how this has happened, I don’t have actions to get me out of it.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything I could think of – all the techniques that have worked in the past. But I suspect that the combination of grief and the longevity of this burnout have resulted in me simply not being able to fix it alone. I need help.
I also believe that tied up in all of this is the way that I am feeling about my body and its failings. Because I do feel I have failed. Or at least my body failed me – again – when I miscarried. I really did think that I was ‘over’ it and was moving on, but not a day goes by where I don’t, in some way, feel sad and broken about it. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way. Again, I need help.
So, I asked for a referral to someone who can help me work though things – someone to help with strategies. I have been in therapy before; I know that it will help. It’s not a quick fix – I know that too.
I am trying to be all Pollyanna-ish about this and make grand ‘the first step is the hardest’ statements. And I am being positive and saying that it is certainly a step in the right direction. It’s going to take time. It’s going to take effort. Perhaps I am ready for that now. I know I certainly haven’t been to date. But maybe – hopefully – I am now.