Done!!

Have you ever just felt DONE! Finally reached a point, where you are done fighting and trying; just DONE! I can only think of a couple of times in my 38 years that I have been there, and I'm there. Everything is broken, I'm sure in some ways it always will be. There are moments when it feels like I have glued the pieces together, but they are fleeting. I have embraced my "new normal" but I'm not talking just about the loss of my husband here. I'm talking about life in general. I'm one of those people that tries to do whatever I can to help in any given situation, when I really should just sit back and do nothing. It's like an addiction, I get a high off of helping someone solve a problem. 98% of the time the high was worth it. but there are a few occasions when I crash instead. The crazy thing is, the crash usually isn't because I couldn't solve the problem; it's usually because the person needing help becomes hateful, arrogant, or full of such selfish pride they can't see who is on their side and who isn't.

I understand the world is a cynical place and tons of people are out to help themselves, but  NOT EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET YOU, some people are genuinely nice and want to help with no ulterior motives behind their help. So, here I am again today after attempting to help someone and getting treated like a suspect deciding I'm DONE!

I know me well enough to know that I am overwhelmed and exhausted right now, but somehow I'll find the motive to keep trudging along until I am strong enough to actually fight again. The problem with that is, I wonder how many times I will try to help before I just change who I am and give up.

It's been a frustrating week, life has not been great this week. I am dealing with the fact that my 11 year old daughter has a life long auto immune disease and has to shoot herself with a MINIMUM of 4 shots a day. I found a pump she agreed to wear and her insurance REFUSES to cover it. What is wrong with the world? She's 11, she could go get birth control or an abortion, but she can't get an Insulin pump.
We got to a restaurant and order her the kid's pancake. It's supposed to be one pancake and turkey bacon. They bring 3 huge pancakes! I already looked up the carb count for the one pancake and dosed her the appropriate amount of insulin for one. Now they have brought 3 and she wants to eat it and argue about it. I'm TIRED! It's not even my disease and I"m tired. I'm tired of being the bad guy ALL THE TIME, I don't get a break where her Dad can take over her care and I can just be fun. Who, am I kidding, her Dad was always the fun one anyway; she would just bat her eyes and he would let her have it. She's not to the age, that she can handle it on on her own; she does her own shots, but carb counting and dosing has to be done for her. I am so paranoid that she will be overdosed, I have made it a double check system around here. Every shot has to be double checked by Angel and another adult. I want her to be able to eat what all her friends are eating without having to count the carbs and stick herself with needles. I want her to be able to go to friends houses for a few hours without worrying about a hypo and the parents not knowing what to do.

  I AM TIRED! I wanted the insulin pump so it would give her the freedom to do more and eat more. She wouldn't have to stick herself if someone offered her a cookie, she could just tell the pump to give her more medicine, but NO, Insurance refuses to cover that and of course it's not affordable to do without Insurance.

Now, I have to find the strength to go fight an insurance company because nothing we can do will fix Type 1 diabetes and some corporate morons somewhere need a wake up call.