On about the sixth or seventh day after diagnosis, I was still struggling quite badly with this huge change. I could get no relief from my constant sadness and anxieties. I had dreams about diabetes every night which normally were about hospitals, or walking into a room and finding a faceless dead person. Or bizaarre dreams, like that something was making my legs itch and I pulled one needle after another from my pants.
I tried to seek comfort from wherever I could: family, friends, social media, support groups. But I could find no relief. This ache inside of my heart would not leave me. The sadness was constantly there, like a cloud that followed me wherever I went. It didn't matter how much I tried to distract myself with every day things or going on Facebook and chatting with family and friends, venting and talking to my online support group. Actually, trying to fit back into nomal life made me feel worse; like I was ignoring the nail stuck in my foot and trying to walk with it, rather than pull it out. I felt even more alone and I realized that although I had a lot of supportive people around me, no one truly understood how I felt. (Except for my support group.)
I felt angry with them because I could tell that they felt that I should be over the shock by now. I felt let down and disappointed that they couldn't be there for me when I needed them most. But then I remembered, that only a week ago, I was the same way. I've known type 1 diabetics and never understood their pain. I didn't understand really, what the big deal was (though I was smart enough never to ask.) Especially when they said they could still do whatever they wanted, live their life, eat whatever they wanted. So what is the big deal then? I didn't get it.
Well I won't speak for other T1Diabetics, especially being so new into this. I can only answer for myself. As I've said so many times before, I'm not an organized person. I'm not really a health food person. I don't look at nutrition lables on food, and I don't care if we don't have organic foods (too expensive anyway.) Being organized and intentional with food is not my talent and never will be. It comes naturally to some people and they seem to enjoy it. But it's not my thing and I'm ok with that.
Except for when THIS happened, the most important thing in the world: my son's health. Now I have
And yet Lord, You give this task to me?? Me, who sometimes forgets to feed the kids while I'm eating my lunch? Who never knew that an apple is a carb?? That innocent red apple can be bad for my son?? Ok, maybe it won't kill him outright, but it would mess up his sugars, make them shoot upwards and You think this is a good idea to hand the reigns over to me??
Diabetes might be manageable---but I have to manage it or my son will die. That is what the big deal is. And I wasn't prepared for this.
That night I hit the ultimate low, I began to cry and then it wouldn't stop. It started as a trickle of tears but then it became a torent. And instead of getting relief, it just got worse.
I turned to God but He felt so far away. I knew He was listening, I knew He understood. But my heart couldn't open. I turned to my Dad. To my guardian angel. And though I felt their love, there was no relief.
It was then that I turned to Our Lady and my heart immediately opened. Here was a Mother who understood my pain. She understood what it was like to see her Child suffer. Though her suffering was much greater than mine will ever be, she didn't belittle it or try reason me through it. She just understood it.
I imagined her standing in front of Simeon, listening to his prophesy of how Jesus would suffer and thought of how I felt when I heard the doctor say to Max "You will have this forever." I wondered how she felt when heard her own sorrowful news. That her Son would be hated by many and would have to suffer for so many that didn't care for Him. There was nothing she could do about it either, no way that she could protect Him from this demise. The difference between us being that she wouldn't have tried to prevent the pain, whereas I would.
Then I saw her following her Son as He carried His cross. Watching Him fall and slowly get up again. Watching Him abused and belittled, mocked, scorned, stripped naked and hanging on a cross. And I couldn't help crying out to her, "How did you do it??? How did you just stand there and not fight them off? How did you make yourself accept it? How did you keep living when inside you were dying???" This is love I couldn't understand and still don't understand. This strength that she had to allow this horrible death for the sake of us, people she never saw in her own lifetime or had any connection to. The only people she saw at the time where the people killing her Son and she somehow was able to allow it even though it was killing her.
I fell asleep dreaming about our Lady and when I woke up, I had a plan in my head of what to do. I would take a walk with Our Lady. She would walk with me as she had walked with Jesus and she would teach me how to deal with this pain. But I had to be alone to do this. No social media, no trying to get people to understand me and my pain. For one week, I had to be completely alone and walk only with her. And the way I would do this would be praying her Seven Sorrows every day. I would mediate on her sorrows and she would walk with me through mine. I would gather strength through her. My journed has just started, but every time I feel the same sense of gloom come over me, I go to my room and say the Seven Sorrows and I cry--I cry for her sorrows and sometimes I cry for mine. But the tears are no longer sad tears but hopefully, healing tears. Turning my focus to her sorrows somehow has made mine more meaningful.
Interestingly enough, a week or so before Max's diagnosis, I thought and meditated a lot about humility. I prayed the litnany of humility often--something I didn't normally do for fear of God giving me something really embarrassing to be humbled by. But, I've learned that thinking in this "taboo" way is not only stupid, but also dangerous, because our pride (ironically enough) gets in the way for praying for what we need most, which is humility.
I wondered for a while if it was because I prayed for humility that Max became sick with diabetes. Because let me tell you, I've never felt so stupid, so weak, so self-centered in all my life. Always thinking about me when I should be focused on Max. But always feeling weak and overwhelmed though I wanted to be strong. And always feeling stupid about just the basic things about nutrition that I should have known even before diabetes. Perhaps God was humbling me with my very apparent prideful way I thought of myself and wanted to bring me down to size.
But then I realized that most likely, God was preparing me for this time by prompting me to pray for humility. I was nearly obsessed for days with thinking and talking about humility, praying to be stronger in this virtue and praying for the courage to be wrong, not consulted, over-looked, ignored. I wanted to want this though it sounded so lonely and a hard way to live.
God didn't strike me or anyone down because I prayed for more humility. He gave me a grace period to strengthen myself with prayer, knowing that this time in my life--only a week and a half out--would be very hard. Would test my courage, my pride, my confidence, my "smarts."
I know that just like any big change in our lives that God allows, it can "make us or break us." They say it's all how you look at things and attitudes. And while I agree wtih this to a point, I 've learned that it's about being completley weak and leaning against God for strength.
I'm defintely not there yet. And I know that there's still going to be times when I feel stupid, alone, misunderstood, lonely. But that is why I'm taking my walk, a walk with Our Lady. And I don't want to come back until I've learned everything she wants to teach me.
No comments:
Post a Comment