Cara ten Cate, a Type 1 diabetes patient, shares a creative piece of writing she penned in regard with having diabetes.
Cara ten Cate (15) lives in Durban, Kwa-Zulu Natal with her parents.
I have an illness called diabetes, Type 1 to be exact. As it’s a part of my routine to inform my peers about this illness, it’s not the diabetes that sparks curiosity. The automatic facial reaction to my statement is towards the simple but deadly word ‘disease’. This word causes reactions so intriguingly cringy, it almost forces a feeling within you to jump behind a bush and hide.
Just one reminder though, don’t give me your sympathy. You may ask why I don’t want your sympathy but I’ll get to that in a moment.
This monologue will be far from grammatically correct, or might even sound like it’s been rushed. However, I have recently accepted my newly-found courage to openly share my story, because after all I am defined by this invisible force. The power it has held over me, the consumption of emotion it’s caused, the fearful depth, the capacity within has led me to finally say that this illness has unrepeatable beauty.
We are living in a society entirely hypnotised by the idea of outer beauty, normality, time and pity. We live in a world where positive outcomes are the expectation of all living species, but listen. I am a failure and I am proud.
I was diagnosed at the age of 5. I am 15 now and I still can’t count my amount of insulin dosages. I rely on people’s care, taking more than I care for myself. I barely inject myself anymore. I still don’t read labels on foods or drinks. So, ya I’ve been failing for 10 years and I’m proud. It is the failure that has gotten me here today.
I continue to refer to my failures in the present tense because it’s not my past. It will never be. It’s the continuation of my future and my now. If I can admit that my failure continues to define me and spark growth within my maturity, then you may call me a failure for the next few years because without that I wouldn’t have the emotional and physical awareness I hold onto to this day.
Diabetes defines me, and don’t tell me otherwise. I grew up listening to social platforms, family members, friends, etc. telling me that this disease shouldn’t hold severe control over me. Guess what, it did and still does because I’m living with it.
Growing up with diabetes I was saddened by a feeling of no control over myself, and yes that is still partially true but I now know it’s my body’s way of expressing a compromise between that five-year-old little girl and my 15-year-old self. Compromise is key. I’m not saying to continue a path of lacking self-growth within managing an illness, but use the failure as a way of identifying the problem, planning a solution and kicking its ass. Don’t expect structure.
The backwards law states that expecting positive will lead to negative outcomes. However, it’s the acceptance of negative that will prove to be a positive experience. Diabetes isn’t easy, it never was. I am living proof of a negative and positive outcome. It’s through this half and half lifestyle that I have learnt sympathy is the worst thing given.
As someone who has diabetes, sympathy has the power to make me feel as if I’m a walking disease. This may have a dramatic tone, though I bet you will find plenty of other people with diabetes who will strongly agree.
Why are you sorry? You as a human who may never endure a physical illness will never get to realise the hardships of having the jealousy we feel towards peoples’ functioning pancreases, all for the reason being that they produce insulin. For that I say sorry to you.
This piece of writing will never be one to be used as a piece for school. My story does not deserve to be graded. This is my life, the span of my 10-year journey with an illness that changed a five-year-old tiny life into a whirlwind roller coaster of ups, down and mediums within a flash of a second. As humans, we all have our low moments, but just like a roller coaster we find ourselves soaring again.
The day of that diagnosis, you are immediately classified as a different personality, “The diabetic.” Hi, I’m that diabetic and I think that’s pretty cool. Don’t grow up with a label you regret, especially with one that was not a choice and was given by a group of societal members that have no understanding of this illness.
I spent years trying to hide the fact that I was diabetic. I was ashamed and embarrassed, but oh do I wish I didn’t. Wishing for the past to change won’t do anything, so as I continue entering my nows, know that I am no longer embarrassed and you shouldn’t be either.
This is my story, it wasn’t chosen but it’s there and I’m happy to say that I had a story. I wasn’t able to choose my storyline but I was able to choose my purpose for it. My purpose is spreading my acceptance to the people who are struggling to cope with this newly found
illness. Even if you don’t have diabetes, please know that you and I aren’t so different. We have individual stories, different storylines, evidence and even characters. Though our words and emotions will forever be conjoined. I am diabetic and that’s who am meant to be.