It's a new week and a whole new attitude

It's been a couple weeks now since my diagnosis, and a lot has changed, with the biggest change being my attitude. In the beginning, I could only think about how terrible my life was going to be now that I was diabetic. I was angry because I felt I had lost control of my life. I brooded over the fact that I now officially have no vices. With this radical change in diet, even food -- my one, last refuge -- had betrayed me. There seemed to be no joy left in my life
   So what changed? Well, it started with a visit to a nutritionist. If you're diabetic and you're not working with one, I would definitely recommend it. She helped me realize that even with the necessary limitations that diabetes imposes on my diet, I don't have to starve. I don't have to limit myself to just baked chicken, or just Cheerios. The truth is, there are a wealth of things I can eat if I'm willing to be open-minded and willing to try new things. This is something I've always had trouble with. It's something I continue to struggle with. It also helped when I realized I didn't have to give up everything I loved. I can still have some sweets -- my one major weakness -- for instance. And I can still have coffee (even Starbuck's). The only difference now is that I have to modify how I enjoy those things.
   Another thing that helped my shift in attitude is the realization that I WASN'T totally to blame for my new health reality. I've always had a complicated relationship with food. Growing up, my Mom -- a reformed chubby kid -- controlled every morsel of food that crossed my lips. So, of course, when I went away to school and didn't have her looking over my shoulder, I rebelled and ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. This pattern continued when I left home permanently. For me, food was both a source of comfort and a source of control. And, of course , I loved all the wrong things. I love fried foods. I love pasta. And I love potatoes. And don't forget the sweets, especially ice cream. Certainly, these poor diet choices didn't help my cause. But the truth is, genetics also play a role. And while no one in my immediate family is diabetic, I don't have to look very far to find family members who are. It took some time, but I finally realized that no matter what I ate, or how healthy, there was never a guarantee that I wouldn't have ended up with this anyway.
   Finally, my attitude began to shift when I began to realize just how lucky I was. As hard as this has been -- and make no mistake. This has been the hardest thing I've ever done, even harder than giving up smoking -- it could have been infinitely worse. I could have gone blind. Or I could have lost toes. Or a limb. Or my life. This isn't easy. But at least I caught it before I had any really dire health consequences. I realize now that I can control this disease, and that it doesn't have to control me or keep me from living a full life, or even enjoying food again. For this, I am eternally grateful.