Diabetes burnout is real, and it takes many different forms. In the past, I have been burnt out to the point of a complete inability to do any sort of diabetes task. Other times, I have just muddled along with low-level haziness and apathy with and at my diabetes. Sometime burnout has been caused by such a deep hatred of diabetes that the very idea of actually managing it is impossible. Focusing on diabetes after a miscarriage ridiculously felt like a betrayal to the baby I’d been unable to keep. My broken body had not been able to carry a baby, and there I was still tending to it – to the very part of it that I held responsible for the loss.
Today, I am burnt out but in ways that are different and if there was such a thing as a burnout spectrum, I wouldn’t think that I am at the really serious pointy end. I suspect part of that is that those diabetes tasks that once seemed impossible during periods of debilitating burnout are far fewer these days. Having to refill a cartridge and change a canula every three days, calibrate a CGM occasionally, and change a sensor even less occasionally is manageable for me even while I am feeling the way I am right now.
The bottom line is that at the moment, I don’t want to do diabetes and that is a big shift from where I have been since using Loop. It is also a big shift from where I usually am after attending a diabetes conferences and being surrounded by friends. This usually gives me a kick of motivation and focus, allowing me to put in a little more effort which generally yields pleasing results.
Instead, I am a mere 48 hours back from one of those occasions of peer support and I am staring at diabetes with that deep-seated hatred that feels unfamiliar these days. This has not sprung on me all of a sudden. It’s been brewing and fermenting over the last few months. It’s a combination of diabetes being diabetes and some advocacy burnout that has hurt me in ways I never imagined possible. I’ve not felt comfortable mentioning it because what the hell do I have to be burnt out from? My automated insulin delivery device that does most of the heavy lifting for me? The CGM on my arm that barely beeps at me? The support of friends and family? The ease of access to any sort of health professional I need? My diabetes isn’t first world diabetes, it’s first class diabetes so why would I possible be feeling crap about it all? (Oh good, let’s add some guilt to the way I’m feeling too then, shall we?)
And I’ve not felt comfortable mentioning it because, apparently, I am so self-confident and resilient that these things aren’t meant to happen to me. Or rather, that is the perception that a number of people have felt the need to share they have of me. (If anyone can locate that resilience, I’d really like some of it back. It is AWOL in the same way my beta cells are, and I am finding this all rather inconvenient.)
This brand of burnout has been joined by something new. I have had a couple of panic attacks over the last few weeks and the repercussion of those has been to suddenly feel very wary about my ability to make decisions about diabetes – my own and how I read things in the wider diabetes world. I am back to second guessing myself – a behaviour that I really had managed to positively change thanks to devices that I trust implicitly. As it turns out, those devices are smarter than me and as much as I was a maths whizz at school, I am no match for an algorithm that knows my diabetes better than I do.
But the bits I need to do? I’m misfiring left, right and centre.
I stared at a low glucose level on my Loop for two hours yesterday, unable to process exactly what I needed to do to deal with it. The low was entirely my fault. I’d forgotten to change the time on my pump when I arrived back into Melbourne because I was dealing with a more pressing matter – namely, staying out of quarantine. (Airport panic attack led to me trying to remember how to breathe properly rather than making that time zone change. I felt it better I focus my efforts on minimising the effects of said panic attack in an endeavour to keep away staff on heightened alert because of a global respiratory virus epidemic.)
I did a sensor change yesterday morning and it bled all over the place and felt terribly painful, and instead of just ripping it out and starting again, I wept – at the blood, the waste of a thrown-out sensor. And having read not long ago someone refer to CGMs as non-invasive.
So here I am. Burnt out, overwhelmed and feeling broken into little pieces. Oh, and terrified to write about it because I am finding corners of the world that I usually turn to when I am feeling like this not especially kind at the moment. (Unlike other times when my tribe has been amazing as I’ve navigated the tricky waters of the burnout continuum.) But I’m sharing anyway, because it’s what I do, and my mess is my mess and this blog is my blog and so somehow this feels the right place to dump the chaos and clutter I am trying to tidy up and make sense of.
Burnout is real. This feels hard and sad and more than a little scary. And it’s a reminder that no matter how well we think we are doing with diabetes – and no matter how we seem to be on top of things to others – there is always the chance that it overcomes us. That seems just so terribly, terribly unfair.
17 comments
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February 27, 2020 at 2:40 pm
Alex Erskine
Good on you, Renza, well written. A sentiment most of us know. Tomorrow’s another day, and – to keep the cliches going – it’ll turn out well in the end and if it hasn’t yet it cannot be the end.
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February 27, 2020 at 3:23 pm
HMS Print
Thank you so much for sharing. This will resonate with many people who need to know they are not alone. And don’t bash yourself!
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February 27, 2020 at 6:23 pm
thelittlestarfish
Thank you for sharing. Diabetes sux.
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February 27, 2020 at 8:18 pm
Martin Scivier
In times of trouble I try to remember that “It will pass”.
Much love.
Martin
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February 27, 2020 at 9:21 pm
Glenda Maddern
Hi Renza great to know that you are human and diabetes truly sucks. Thanks for sharing, until I started reading your blogs I felt I was the only one who didn’t do everything right which resulted in diabetic disasters. Is there anything I can do for you? You have made such a positive difference to my life through your blogs. You are a very special person. Try champagne and chocolate works for me without affecting BGL’s plus loving sex.
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February 27, 2020 at 10:49 pm
icarbohydrated
Renza, thanks for sharing this post. Helped me with my own current post-conference-back-to-work-diabetes-sucks-real-bad burnout. I am sorry you’re feeling this way right now. It will get better eventually and I strongly believe the #doc community is supportive and means well in general, despite some of the recent issues. Thank you for being out there on blog, soc-med and conferences for all of us 🙂
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February 27, 2020 at 11:37 pm
shauncarpo
Hi Renza,
You’re not alone. Worry about it as much as you need to, but things will change. I’m struggling too due to having less time to focus and I suspect I’m feeling similar!
We can do this!
Shaun
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February 28, 2020 at 12:25 am
Jenny
Sorry you’re having a tough time, Renza. My heart goes out to you.
This resonates and I can certainly relate. Know you are not alone.
Tomorrow is a new day, and so is the day after that. On the tough days, just get through an hour at a time. Too much? No probs, try five minutes. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, it’s all we can do at times.
So much love. xx
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February 28, 2020 at 2:39 am
Colleen Goos
Every thought and feeling we have about diabetes is valid and I am speaking directly to those of us in the community. No two PWD have the exact experiences. Similarities exist which should make us more empathetic, but we cannot know exactly what another is experiencing. 🐾
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February 28, 2020 at 4:27 am
Cathrine
Completely valid. It’s all so infuriating most of the time. Today, I’m dealing with rage. My G.P. quit and moved to another state. He was wonderful and educated himself on diabetes. I now have a doctor who’s almost half my age. I met her for the first time yesterday when I went in for some serious jaw and elbow pain. She came in the room, didn’t introduce herself, didn’t look at me and started off by saying, “Well. Since you’re a diabetic…” I cut her off and said, “NO. My numbers are good. I eat lots of meat and veg and take my insulin. I run, lift weights and stretch 4 to 6 times a week like I’ve done for more than 30 years. I’ve only been a type 2 for 7 years. The reason I’m here has nothing to do with diabetes.” She ordered an ekg for the jaw and is sending me to a physical therapist for the tweaked elbow. THANK YOU.
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February 28, 2020 at 9:55 am
Min
Awwww Renza, what you write are words we are all familiar with, the private battle is lonely, the weight on our shoulders is heavy and it never lifts not even for 30 seconds. Just how many times have people said to me “aren’t you used to this yet after 50 years”, on the wrong days those words send me into a blubbering mess and internal words of “are you f—-ing serious” on the right day I might confidently say “no I’m not used to it and go google type 1 diabetes before your open your ignorant mouth”. Only yesterday I heard a ridiculous diabetic comment on google box while they watched a cake making show! Out loud I said “you idiot” albeit the dude who verbally made a dick of himself is very likable and one of my favs. Saying that my nearest and dearest say the wrong things and have no clue of the job this all entails every waking and sleeping moment because not only is there a 24/7 job there is also a 24/7 sense of guilt for not enjoying it or for not thinking myself lucky. So I battle along with humor and gaining awards for the best actress for showcasing bliss and happiness. On those days of anxiety and depression I dare step out the door until I can showcase myself doing well at 110% because how dare I not cope after 50 years on the diabetic job. Sad but true.
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February 28, 2020 at 2:27 pm
Rick Phillips
I once stared at my pump on an airplane for 1 hour. The airplane landed, no in the place I was traveling too and I woke up in a an airport infirmary. I guess people who star at small electrical devices sweating profusely all day on airplanes are not exactly welcome.
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February 29, 2020 at 10:23 am
Min
OH MY GOODNESS RICK! That is terrifying! Yes the situations we all have most probably found ourselves in or others have found us in is why I cannot watch any movie that depicts a mental health scene where they cut the film in out to show the confusion, I have to turn it off or thrown a cushion over my face so not to see it……as that’s exactly what I experience during a really low blood sugar, split seconds cutting in and out like the biggest brain fart you would ever experience. I’m sure we are all capable of writing a book on the topic that would be very insightful for the medical profession and for those in and around our lives.
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February 29, 2020 at 12:06 am
Deb Souther
Thank you for writing this!
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March 1, 2020 at 4:10 pm
Ali Aldibbiat
Thank you Renza so much for sharing your experience and feelings. What you have written touches the hearts of all. Burnout is real and sux, regardless of the cause. I truly hope you are feeling better now.
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March 1, 2020 at 11:23 pm
Andrea
Hi Renz, Yes It sucks. There’s nothing I can say to make it better- I’m sorry. Know that there are lots of us who would make it go away if we could. I can only hope you won’t feel this way for long,
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March 2, 2020 at 4:50 am
Kellie Antinori-Lent
God bless you, Renza! Appreciate your transparency and willingness to share your story. You are human. You are authentic. You may be broken now, but I have no doubt you will rise again. Remember, as you said in the “Changing the Conversation” video which I play in many of the classes I teach: “I can do anything [with diabetes.]” You will overcome this and be even stronger.
And, regarding “haters” (if I am reading your blog correctly–ignore them. Its just noise. Shut it out. Don’t give life or meaning to that which does not deserve it.
Will pray for you–
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