what doesn't kill you makes you stronger

Today is my one year diabetes anniversary.
This time last year I was in a hospital room, with drips coming out of both arms and wondering what the hell was happening to me. Now it's a year since then, and I can't believe 365 days has gone that fast. 7 March 2010 was the day that changed my life forever.

I hated it, and I still hate it.
I hate that after my diagnosis, I cried myself to sleep for months.
I hate that I spent the first few months of my year 12 in hospitals, waiting rooms and doctors’ offices instead of bars and clubs. Turning 18 is not as fun when you’re spending your Friday night with your endocrinologist.
I HATE that my ATAR was lower than it could have been, because I spent my year trying to stay on top of study and a chronic illness. Try battling high blood sugars and a pile of international politics reading at the same time – it’s the furthest thing from easy.
I hate that everything I do – dancing, sport, even an extended walk to the shops - has to be calculated down to the degree, because the tiniest margin of error can result in my entire body flipping out.
I hate that before I go to bed, I have to check my blood glucose level just to make sure that I don't hypo and die during the night. Seriously? Should I really have to do that when I'm 18? That should be reserved for when you're 70 and about to kick the bucket. (Just a side note, it's very weird to literally have your life in your hands. I don't take my insulin, I die next week. I inject too much long and short acting insulin before bed, I die during my sleep. That's way too close for comfort)

I hate that I constantly have to deal with people asking 'Can you eat that?' I don't know, can I punch you in the face? You wouldn't go up to a fat person and tell them that eating that second helping of cake will kill them, why do people think it's ok to tell me? I know what I’m putting into my body, its no-one’s business but my own.
I hate that travelling during my gap year brings me a whole lot more complications than everyone else I’m with. Getting through customs with 3 months supplies of needles, then trying to keep your insulin at the right temperature when you're tramping through some European forest is not fun. The worst part is when I’m making new friends in a bar somewhere, and everyone is sitting down to eat some £2 pizza, but then I have to slink off to the toilet and inject like some druggie because I don't know them well enough to whip my needle out.
I hate sticking a needle into myself every time I eat, and pricking my finger 6 times a day.
I have pricked my finger around 2190 times and injected myself 1825 times since this time last year. My stomach and fingertips are like a permanent pin cushion, I have never had so many bruises at one time. (My pet hate is now people complaining about injections. Don't do it around me, there is a high chance I will take my own personal needle out and stab you with it.)
I hate hypos. Hypos suck. They always happen during an exam, an important talk with someone, or somewhere really inconvenient like the middle of assembly or meeting new people. Maintaining a conversation when you can't feel your hands and feet, and you're seeing triple, while your heart beats a million times a second and your skin goes clammy is not the best way to make the greatest first impression. I hate that this is chronic, and will never go away.
I hate that it never takes a break. I have to worry about my health 24/7. If I take a break, I get very sick. I can't forget about my diabetes, it's constantly there, and at times that is so hard that I want to pack it all in.
Most of all, I hate that diabetes makes me ask for help. I have to be reliant on other people when I can't take care of myself anymore. I'm supposed to take care of others, not the other way around! Having a hypo on the floor while a friend runs for my jellybeans makes me feel so tiny and useless, I can't stand it.

However, I've also learnt a lot this past year, and in some ways diabetes has been a gift.
I have realised how lucky I am to be healthy (well, relatively speaking!). Sure, I may get complications in the future, but at the moment I am your typical 19 year old. I work, travel, drink cheap beer and sleep in until 2 on a Sunday afternoon. I'm not constantly stuck in a hospital, and I don't have a terminal disease. Sure, it's lifelong, but I can live with it.
I have discovered what amazing, incredible people I have in my life. My family found that handling me going through year 12 and diabetes was difficult, to say the least (understatement of the year!). Dealing with my massive hypos, bitchy-blood-sugar-is-28 Georgie, regular breakdowns and listening to me sobbing on the floor when I ‘just couldn’t do it any more’...there are no words to describe how much I owe them. Without my family, I don't know where I'd be. My aunts, uncles, grandparents – I am the luckiest person in the world to have a family like mine, and it has taken diabetes to show me that.

I don't know what I would have done without the support of my friends this year. When they looked at me injecting for the first time, and didn't look away in disgust but gave me a hug and said how brave and 'bad-ass' I was to do that, it meant the world to me. Even the jokes we made about my diabetes helped! I was the resident ‘insulin junkie’ and the willing scapegoat whenever we went out. What do we do to excuse our inability to ever be on time? 'Sorry we're late, Georgie's had a hypo again, we had to stop off at 7/11.' (Lies, we're just constantly late and constantly hungry.). The amount they cared was incredible, asking what to do when I went hypo, and doing it every time, no questions asked, was so much help to me. They even offered – no, insisted – on learning how to inject me with glucagen if I fell unconscious! Calling my hypo fixes 'special Georgie food', checking if I was low whenever I was quiet, sad or just not looking quite right...taking on my issues when they all had their own as well?! Amazing. Diabetes made me realise how incredibly lucky I am to have friends like I have. They accepted it as a part of me, and made my year a whole lot easier.

Diabetes made me grow up. I took on stuff I shouldn't have to, but at the same time I've come to a realisation that I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life, so many incredible experiences, and that I am a lot tougher than I think. As one of my very best friends told me in the weeks following my diagnosis, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Happy diabetes-versary to me.