Once upon a time, if you had asked me about my ideal soulmate, I would have leaned forward with stars in my eyes, and a love blush blooming on my cheeks as I shyly whispered one word with firm conviction:
Yeah, back then if Carbs were a person, I’d have had him in a three piece suit then a three course meal before he even fully gained the robust aroma of a good, thick pizza. Or the fluff of a soft, buttery roll. Of the swirl of a perfectly baked cake. Or the goop of a rich, thick pasta plate. I could do this all day.
No offense to my husband, whom I love with my entire being, once upon a time, a well dressed hardo bread or slice of black forest cake could have whisked me away from right under his nose, dollops of butter and sugar lighting the way to our sinful hideaway.
It has been a while since I’ve had a gratuitous carb-binge. And I miss it.
Today I’m angry at Diabetes. I’m never HAPPY with it, but today I’m angry. My plates increasingly include more vegetables than any other item, and while that’s good, and I feel the improvement in my system, today I want cake just for the having of cake. Is that so bad? To want because you want? It SUCKS some days, feeling as if your life is being dictated by some psycho sugar overlord.
And I hate that for me ‘cheating’ and stealing a secret slice equals big ole public sugar fail. I’d take the extra pound, or two, I really would if that were the only side effect.
But lady, you ask, if you’re eating so healthily, why are you still fat?
Some quack I once subscribed to (but still respect enough to not link his webpage) coined the term ‘diabesity’. It’s the sugar-crippled body’s tendency to hold on to fat BECAUSE healthy insulin management plays a pretty great role in the management of fat too. Wacked out insulin system equals LOLZ YOU’RE STILL FAT.
Most days I can take it on the chins.
Today I cannot.
Today I’m one angry diabetic.
And for my sorrows there is this giant cauliflower gleaming hopefully beside me as if it believes that if I squint hard enough it might somehow look like a cupcake.
But still taste like cauliflower.
No offense cauliflower, but right now, I hate you. And diabetes. And you.
Head up, fellow Sugaritas.
We’ll get through this, I’m told.