Another year with Type 1
Hattie shares the realities and frustrations of approaching her second anniversary as a Type 1 Diabetic
TW: suicidal thoughts
February 2023 was when I was admitted to hospital and told I would never eat another carb without injecting insulin. Back then it felt like a weird life sentence and injecting was something I often forgot to do. Now, two years on, things have changed. I stab myself in front of everyone without thinking twice, I feel freedom to live a full life and am finding a solid relationship with food through it all.
Year two also came with some dramas. Holidays with my family so often caused insulin resistance (due to stress?) and I frequently forgot to pack enough. Then I lost my last insulin pen under a cafe sofa and had to get numerous emergency prescriptions over GP closure dates. The doctors called me worried about my high HBA1C result (you average blood sugar reading) and they’re now trying to get me to get a coil fitted to balance out my lady hormones.
Then I’ve been on the phone to 111 after accidentally overdosing and have chugged more apple juice against my will than I’d like to admit. Still, life feels more peaceful with it than it ever has. My worth doesn’t feel caught up in the readings or the averages or calories or carbs in the same way that it did in year 1.
I do have a new fear of dead in bed syndrome: which is actually a real thing. The last year I’ve had many episodes waking up feeling strange and shaky only to find my levels had dropped in the middle of the night. For fear of sudden death, I decided to ask my flatmates if they’d be happy to download an app and connect to my sensor. It felt like I was drawing attention to myself or making diabetes my identity. But in reality, I was giving myself peace of mind and the ability to sleep at night without dying suddenly.
I am now also three years clean from self harm, but it occurs to me very often how much damage insulin could do if I did abuse it. Frustration, anger and high sugar levels can make me think about overdose – and these thoughts aren’t something I knew I might have to deal with. Still, they are just thoughts and something I feel very happy being honest about with my team. After all, it can be a depressing and overwhelming burden to carry this life/death stick around sometimes, and that’s ok.
My body image is at an all-time low. That’s one thing I hope year three might help me to manage. I cover up my mirrors and hate seeing myself naked. But I have lovely clothes now that I feel happy in and, though I still have to confront my BMI twice a year at medical appointments, it’s not been something of concern to my team. This body that has survived so much and changed so much feels like a very new place to be inhabiting in 2025 at the age of 27.
Maybe I’ll get a pump by the next diaversary – that would enable my insulin to be controlled by a device constantly attached to me. It sounds annoying to be tethered in that way, but maybe it’ll help my anxiety about dying in my sleep. There’s a long way to go but I am starting to think it might just all be ok.