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not your average adolescence

It’s been quiet on this blog for many months. About a year ago, my daughter began to express concern about how my blog posts affected her privacy. It was for this precise reason that I had always consulted with her before publishing anything, and she had–for years–supported the effort to share our unique experiences with T1D in a public forum. I wanted her to know that I respected her voice and her preferences for how and when information was shared, so I honored her request. I stopped writing, period.

For a while, I was okay with not writing; we seemed to have developed some endurance for living side by side with T1D, and our daily experiences felt mundane and even (gasp) normal. Yet, as the intervening months have passed, new challenges began cropping up. Situations and circumstances for which I was ill prepared. I took to research, as I often do in an effort to gain insight, perspective and understanding. A person can find mountains of information about living with the physical and logistical impacts of T1D, and there’s a whole lot out there in the way of encouragement, reassurance and positive messaging around living successfully with this condition. However, if you are looking for honest, gritty reflections on the gut-wrenching emotional impacts of T1D for children and teens, well, the offerings are quite limited.

So here I am, writing again. I am not exactly sure how to proceed as I seek to honor my daughter’s request for privacy, trying to balance my need to process our experiences without disclosing too much. I can start by laying this foundation.

When puberty arrived, my daughter’s life was transformed. By extension, so was my own.

Goodbye, self-confidence. Farwell, already-tenuous positive body image. So long, easy-going nature.

Hello, anxiety and depression (and with them, a skilled therapist). Welcome, 5.0 units-per-hour basal, 185-unit days, body changes and weight gain. Greetings, self-isolation tendencies and loneliness. Hola, anger and resentment and “I don’t care.”

Adolescence, you say? Well, sort of… but not really. We are in deep, deep water these days. Enduring a “regular” adolescence would be a dream come true.





About Heather Garcia Queen

I am… a mother of 3 spectacular children. A wife of an architect extraordinaire. An MSW. A psychologist in an elementary school. A (wishful) writer. A protector of family and spirit. A worshipper of the natural world. A seeker of knowledge. A lover of the arts. An introvert. A silver-lining kind of girl.


3 thoughts on “not your average adolescence

  1. I’m glad you’re back to writing. I think we are safe as long as we are writing about our own experiences—even if it’s our experiences of their experiences—that’s my theory for now.

    Posted by Katy | 08/15/2016, 4:06 pm
  2. I’m glad to have you back. We each have our own experiences and perspective on living with a child who has diabetes but those feelings and experiences we each have overlap in so many ways. It’s always reassuring for me to see there are others all over the world who live and manage to survive and even occasionally have fun in this world which can feel dominated by diabetes.

    Posted by mumoftype1 | 08/16/2016, 1:16 am
  3. So sorry to hear you’re dealing with this… glad to see you’re back though.

    Posted by Joanne | 08/16/2016, 10:43 am

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Creative Commons License
This work by Heather Garcia Queen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

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