“Ms. G, Your son is Diabetic.” These were the exact words of Dr. Ganon, who had been the one to break the news to my mom and I. He said this, gripping his clipboard with white knuckles, with as much sincerity and pity that he could. “Ok. So what’s that mean?” I had said, taking a sip of the beef broth that had been provided, after countless nights of begging for food and tears down my face. I hadn’t known why I’d recently been severely ill, getting little to no sleep as I kept waking in the night to consume countless bottles of soothing water, only to vomit it up and urinate it a mere moment later.

I had been taken the hospital on the 3rd of June, 2009, just as I was finishing up my 5th grade year at Linden Hill Elementary. My mother and my older brother Nick practically had to carry me to the hospital, and by that point I’d woken them up at 11:00 pm on a school night and they were quite tired, as was I. Immediately, after the agonizing walk to the ER, I was rushed into a room and a massive quantity of blood was drawn out of my left arm. I remember distinctly feeling even more sick and light-headed as I did when I first walked in. The nurses I had, which I must say are still, to this day, the best I’ve ever had, took very good care of me until that faithful day of June 7th, when he came in. This is only the beginning of the hard labor that has brought me to where I am today. Tears and a lot of blood.

I suppose, in my 10 year old mind, I had thought nothing of it. Surely it couldn’t be that bad, I had thought it another name for a disease sort of like the flu. I watched my mother weep and moan in agony as I sat there, sipping on soup and listening to the gibber-gabber of my doctor. It was only after I had left the safety and control of the hospital that I realized what I was in for and what would, ultimately, control my life. I first noticed that it would change my life when, as soon as I did any physical activity, my blood sugar would drop severely and I would be faced with a crippling headache and I couldn't do anything. It really devastated me because I had once, if you could even comprehend it, been very into sports. Football out in my backyard was what I usually preferred. But that all ended after I realized that my lows were that crippling in and horrible.

This was my birthday, 10 days after I was released. This was only the beginning to the torment of this disease. As many may tell you, who also have this, take my sister for example. She has had Diabetes for 26 years, so she would know well more then I how horrible it is. It's like having a ton of bricks on your back , having to constantly stop to readjust them to fit your comfort ability. This constant responsibility is crushing to say the least.
I went into middle school knowing nothing at all about how life would be with it. I had to get used to having low blood sugar in class and having to walk down to the nurse everyday for breakfast and lunch. It was quite annoying. Although it was nice to get out of class a few minutes early, one of the small amount of pluses that come with it, I still had a lot of complications and hardships with dealing with it.

People often, if you could believe it, make fun of me for it, ridicule me about how I got “special” privileges, often wishing the had it to get out of class early. It makes me sad knowing that's all that people think of when they think of this disease, or any other disease for that matter. I guess my depression started there. Dealing with this illness, piled on with all the, now looking back meaningless and easy, schoolwork and friend and relationship problems ultimately turned me into a smoker.

Cigarettes became what I cared of most, other then seclusion and sadness. The creeping sadness that has wracked my mind for so long. I've smoked for 6 years now, none of it I'm proud of, nor I would take back. When no one was around and I was all alone, sometimes in school surrounded by friends, or sitting in my bed at midnight, crying, chest painfully rising and falling, cigarettes helped. Though, I am getting better at smoking, with minimum amount a day.  It all started with middle school and how much it affected my nerves, how much it developed my anxiety and depression and how much it made me hate everything to do with anything.

Moving into my high school years, I wondered if I'd ever get better. I wondered if I would ever live past 16. ( I am proud to say I am 4 months past that notion.) Until I realized at the end of October, 2014, I deserved better. I cut everything that hurt me or made me feel alone or sad or scared or depressed. I met my lovely girlfriend of 8 months in February of 2015, the 7th to be exact. I am proud to say that, ever since I contracted Diabetes, I am extremely happy. I feel alive and I feel happy, loved, cared for, safe. I know people love me, I realize it. I am happy.

The above was a result of thinking over many times on what to write and how I should approach it. I decided on it, knowing fully well that I was ready and am ready to tell my story. Though this is not all of it, it would be pages and pages these tired fingers would not be able to type. Maybe for another time. Another story, perhaps. I am currently working on my addiction and my Diabetes has been improving. I'm very happy with my life right now, with the friends I've surrounded myself with and the people that I love and love me too. Thank you.

Remember, where this is a Tornado, there is the eye of the storm. an oasis from the hellish carnage of the storm around you.

O inside of you.