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Why I Relapsed

Vilya

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I remember so clearly the time right after I was dx'd. I was scared out of my mind, like many of us were. The sheer terror of having such a high BG gave me the motivation to cut the carbs out of my life completely. I was eating under 20 carbs per day, effortlessly. I had no cravings, no temptations. And my BG responded quickly and dramatically.

 

Going back through my logs from that time, I had morning BG's in the 80's and 90's every day, and I rarely went over 105 or so after meals. The weight dropped off without even trying hard. It was a magical time.

 

And then I quit my corporate job, which I did to pursue a dream of taking my dog training side business into full time. I knew that I'd always regret not trying it if I didn't do it. Things went OK, but not great, and I ended up getting a part-time job in a daycare. That was the beginning of my relapse. The parents brought me treats constantly, and I ate them. I had been really good about not buying that stuff on my own, but when faced with free goodies every week, I crumbled. Still, I managed to keep my BG mostly in check, though I gained about 10 lbs.

 

And then my friend made me an offer that seemed like all my dreams come true. She is a well-established dog trainer, and she wanted me to come work with her. I went to stay with her for 6 weeks, as a trial period, and after 2 weeks I realized I didn't actually WANT to be a trainer in that particular way, meaning on-call 24/7, no scheduled work hours, basically having the job become your life. I hadn't known it before, but I realized quickly that I'm a person who needs a set work schedule, and predictable time off. It was this realization that sent me spiraling out of control.

 

I came home defeated, feeling like an utter failure. Here I had been handed my dream job on a silver platter, and it turned out it wasn't what I thought. Not to mention that my training skills were not at the level I thought they were (I'm a good trainer, but I had overestimated myself), so that made me feel like more of a failure. I have terrible anxiety and have suffered from depression all my life, so this incident sparked a massive clinical depression.

 

I could barely function. I came home and had no job and almost no money. I struggled to get out of bed. Thank god for my own dogs, who needed me to take care of them, because I'm not sure I would have made it otherwise. I completely stopped caring about food and my health. I just ate junk and more junk, all the things I hadn't eaten in 2 years - pizza, bread, rice, chips, sweets. Everything; I didn't care.

 

A few months into this, I saw an ad from the place where I buy my dog food. They needed someone to manage their office. I would be in a warehouse, mostly alone, or with just the owner. It didn't really pay enough to meet my bills, but it was a literal lifesaver. Being able to work in an environment where I could wear whatever I wanted and not worry about interacting with people - that was perfect. I took the job and slowly started dragging myself out of the depression. I went back to counseling. I stayed in that job for 8 months, until it became impossible to support myself anymore. I needed more money, and once again, a job landed in my lap.

 

I am now back in the industry I left, earning good money and back in a mental place that allows me to work on my diabetes again. It's still a work in progress, but I'm getting there. I'm so incredibly grateful for whatever force in my life continued to present me with jobs exactly when I needed them. I don't take that for granted, or lightly. Somebody or something wants me to go on, and I'm not going to dishonor that. I'm so happy to be back here with you guys, too. I missed this place. :)



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