Atlas and me

Well, a little detour from my story. This time it's about how tired I am. Boring stuff I know. You don't have to read it. But I have to write it...

I am tired.
Over 2 years of non-stop testing of blood sugars, of figuring out why sometimes they are high, or low.
Of reading anything and everything, trying to understand.
Of worrying, constantly.
Of feeling like Atlas, the weight of the world on my shoulders.
It's too much.

Today is one of those days. When my shoulders can't bear the weight anymore.
I don't show it though, my ever present good humour stopping me from collapsing.
Then there are my sons. I can't fall ever. Not now anyway. They are too young.
Will I fall one day and show how tired I am, how utterly exhausted I have become?
Most likely not, for days like this, when I am faced with my humanness, are rare.

I am not being arrogant when I say this. I think any parent of a child with a disease probably feels like they can take on anything anytime. But they also have their down days. The days when the superhero cape comes off, the masks are withdrawn and they look at themselves in the mirror.

I do not like what is staring back at me in the mirror. It's the face of reality. I can't escape it ever.
Nor do I want to escape it.

Deep down I know this is how life is. Good and bad. Take it or leave it. I took it and am carrying it on my shoulders. And I do not regret it. I know I am strong. I know I can do it.

But today I am tired. I wish someone could take over all the testing, and all the worrying, and all the figuring out why and how. Just for one day.

Have you read so far? Thank you!