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    My Passion Project

    <p>My Passion Project</p>
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    Anyone live this way?

    It’s a daily struggle just to want to get outa bed,muchless look at my unclean home&laundry. But i have made the word “Homebody” more meaningful. I have a dream husband(no he’s not a knockout with his looks)but he does everything for me,and anything I askhe does it. I don’t cook,I barely clean. He works 2 full time jobs. We owe several homes/property and vehicles are of no issue. Ok my problem is,I hate to go any where,ANYWHERE NO MATTER! He has bought and brought home to me so much.yes I know he loves me. But bc Iv been sick for 20+yrs two aftr three things of sickness would happen over the yrs. so now I’m among all the other crap,Iv been postmeno fir 6 yrs and thats when my anxiety started taking over my life. It has ruined so much with my husband and my 2boys and it has gotten so bad that two of my 6 gkids lived with me.1 I raised from 18mnths she’s 14 yo now and her lil brother was taking when she was about 8 and we were gona raise them together but I couldn’t do it and had him adopted outa the county. But my anxiety is trrrible everyday all day,both my boys deal with it too. And I hate to know the things Iv given them that causes pain and no sleep. But my nephrology said that my thyroid being so “over active”,hyperthyroidism,is what’s causing my to be so bad and my levels have been sky high then will drop very low,which I know is known as hasimotos disease. But I just wondered if anybody else makes up so much excuses to keep from leaving the house. I’m sorry Lord but I do bc I stay so tired exhausted worn out and weak!! I truelly hope nobody understands this pain bc to understand it you have to live #AnxietyDisorders #ChronicPain it daily. Thank you for reading this. Thanks for you all being here as I’m a newbie. Thanks again. God Bless. Have A great day!!
    #Chronicfatique
    #Hasimotosdisease
    #T1D #Fibromyalgia
    #DegenerativeDiscDisease #PostmenoAnxiety

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    World Diabetes Day - Of Test Strips and Tea Parties

    And there it was, resting in the tiny sink in the dollhouse’s kitchen: a bloody test strip. Sticking out like a sore thumb. Drenched in all that tiresome irony and clichéd connotations. Here, inside the four room dollhouse, surrounded by pastel colours and impossibly small cups and pots. The Sylvanian families patiently waiting in the next room, frozen in anticipation of yet another tea party.

    Even here – in the metaphorical and physical inner sanctum of innocence – Type 1 Diabetes will find a way of creeping in. Insinuating itself into every corner of life, of domesticity, of childhood.
     
    How it got there, I have no idea. Any Type 1 parent will tell you that those little strips show up in the most inexplicable of places. Go to any T1D forum, and you’re bound to find the question: where is the strangest place you’ve ever found a test strip?
     
    At times it’s funny. At times heart-breaking.  Especially at times like these: when they get mixed up with toys, or under a Teddy bear after night-time tests in the dark. And for a moment, your brain can’t quite comprehend. You try to make sense of what you’re seeing, and your mind starts playing that “one of these things is not like the others” game.
     
    But then, isn’t this just as much a part of her childhood as dollhouses and teddies, as action heroes and bikes, as climbing trees and jumping in puddles? It is. It has been, for her, since the age of 2. And, quite frankly, my daughter has done an incredible job of decorating her childhood by incorporating ALL of these elements, Type 1 included.
     
    It reminded me of a poem I wrote for her on her 3rd birthday, the first one after her diagnosis. The day she received her dollhouse. And I knew that, just like back then, my girl’s still got this. She’s got this life, her life, and she’s decorating it exactly the way she wants – even if she has to wade through some bloody test strips along the way.
     
    So here it is:
     
    The Dollhouse
    Oupa dropped off the dollhouse today
    Empty rooms
    Gaping windows
    A crate full of fragile furniture
    You’re still sleeping
    Covered in sand and sugar-free candy
    Your third birthday
    Which you spent running around the park
    Me running after you
    Mostly to avoid the guests
    And the inevitable question:
    “How are you doing?”
     
    Your first birthday
    After your body declared war on itself
    And our house was covered in the carnage
    Of bloody test strips
    And the sweetly sick smell
    Of insulin needles
     
    And now I sit here
    Just staring
    Not knowing how to even begin
    To fill this dollhouse up again
     
    But I hear your tiny voice behind me
    “House, house!”
    And you giggle and tremble with excitement
    As you start filling up the rooms
    Piece by piece
    Room by room
     
    And just like that
    It’s not empty anymore
    None of it feels empty anymore
    Because I know that
    To you
    My love
    An empty room
    Is still an invitation
    #DiabetesType1 #T1D