Plunged from positive energy to despair over the course of the day today. The relentlessness of living on insulin as a type 1 diabetic, thoughts of “keep doing what you need to do because you are living on borrowed time.” That my “time to go” could be any second, so be at peace because you are doing the best you can – having this disease sucks. Basically, trying to stay positive, but acknowledging that having to monitor every damn thing I put in my mouth is not a humane way to live. It’s just the way I HAVE to live, because there is no cure for this ancient disease yet.
Well, I am alive. But I also do not feel that being reminded every second that I need to do mental calculations about how to regulate what I eat to stay alive is any way to spend years and years on this planet. Frankly, having been “normal” for almost 42 years of my life before my diagnosis, I remember all too clearly the effortlessness of nourishing myself as a normal person. And as someone who is neither math oriented, nor finds tracking their health in order to be in line with generic statistical studies a stimulating and fulfilling activity, it’s a thing with me now that if it’s time to Meet My Maker, so be it, and let this burden BE OVER.
When this mood came today, combined with a general restlessness that is reminiscent of life before my extended transition back to a non-fertile state, I found myself doing something I haven’t done since pandemic lockdown – retreating into making a film for myself. No challenges, no pressure to perform, nobody’s business but my own.
Life is short, art is long.
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