The hardest part about having diabetes is experiencing the mental and physical challenges that come with managing it…and knowing that a loved one with diabetes goes through those exact same hardships, and there’s nothing to be done about it (besides supporting the loved one as much as possible).

I say this because my mom also has type 1 diabetes, as I’ve mentioned on this blog before. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown to appreciate more and more over time just how much it took for my mom to take care of both her diabetes and mine throughout my childhood and teenage years, in addition to her many other responsibilities. I have a lot of respect for how she handled everything (relating to and apart from diabetes) with grace and tact, and how she made sure that I handled the transition from her being my primary diabetes caregiver to me independently taking care of it when I was ready to do so.

But with age and my increasing awareness of just how much my mom had on her plate also comes an greater sense of sadness, lamentation, and resentment over the fact that my mom knows just how hard diabetes can be because she literally has to live with it, too. Every time that I have a tough diabetes day, whether it be a series of technology fails or a stubborn high that just won’t come down, I think of my mom and wish that she didn’t have to deal with the same shit, too.

This post follows a somewhat rough diabetes week for me, defined by a string of frustrating blood sugars and a total lack of adequate sleep. It sucks to know that my mom also goes through weeks very much like this from time to time, but rather than wallowing in that, I’d say it’s important to recognize that we are both so much stronger for getting through them. That, coupled with the undeniable fact that diabetes helps us understand one another in a very unique way is something much more positive to focus on.