This rough essay has been cut from my current manuscript of Dear Warriors. I wanted to share it here, rather than just let it slip away into nothing, because it's a reminder we need.
Tending our wounds can include expressing ourselves artistically.
That's why I'm writing. That's why I'm calling on anyone with T1D who has an image they've created to share it with me for consideration as an illustration for Dear Warriors. Let's work together to tend our bruises and wounds.
For more information, please see Type 1 Art Requested!. To submit a sample, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. For a list of book chapters and essay topics (always evolving), please see Essay Titles.
News flash (NOT): being a Diabetic Warrior can truly be ugly at times.
Anytime you shove something into your skin, you run the risk of incurring a bruise. This applies to whether you use needles, CGMs or pumps. No DW has gone without knowing that tell-tale feeling that signals, “Yup, that’s going to leave a mark.”.
Sometimes, you forget they are there and their ugly shadow surprises you in the mirror as you dress. Mottled shades of purple and green stare at you, almost accusing you. You did this to me. You.
That’s another bruise. We get a ton of those kind, too. On the inside. In our hearts. In our minds. Whether from external ignorance or internal doubts and fears, mental hits from words and phrases lash us deeply.
Wounds can fester. Rather than slowly disappearing, they can linger, causing additional misery. They can build, escalating from merely uncomfortable to dangerous.
It’s not hopeless. We need to tend our wounds. We need to note them and watch them. We need to give them time to heal. We need the strength to ask for help when things aren’t getting better and we need to be open to accepting assistance when it’s offered. Physical or mental, our bruises can end up changing us for the better.