I’m scared. So scared. Terrified, in fact.

Each and every single thing that triggers my anxiety is firing off in swarms lately.

I am restless and fatigued. Tense and lethargic. My heart is racing and I’m having trouble thinking clearly. I can’t even read a book or sketch. Everything I need or want to do takes more of me than I can offer.

Is it hypoglycemia or anxiety?

I should mention, for those who may not know, I’m a Type 1 Diabetic with diagnosed Dysthymia and Anxiety. And a laundry list of other health issues but we can save those for another day. Another post.

I currently (carefully) manage my Diabetes using two different insulins – a long and a short acting – via multiple daily injections (Did I mention I also have a needle phobia? Totally ironic, right? And, I’m covered in tattoos – go figure!), a flash glucose monitor and glucometer. I also eat a low carb, vegetarian diet. For exercise, I do Yoga, play with my kiddo and walk.

It’s still a tightrope walk on the best of days.

My mental health is something I monitor just as carefully. I used to treat my Anxiety with psychotherapy (antidepressants were NOT an effective form of treatment for me) until we moved a year ago. When we moved I left the Endocrinology Clinic that I had been going to in favour of something local. Unfortunately, the new clinic does not have an in-house Psychotherapist. And, because they themselves are specialists, cannot refer me to one. And while I was able to find a new family doctor, there is a wait to get to a therapist. And so, I wait. It is not my strong suit in a general sense.

And it has proven to be detrimental to my health.

My stomach is in knots. My chest is tight. I’m sweating, and I’ve got a mild case of the sweats.

Maybe I should test my glucose levels…even though I’m certain it’s not a hypo…

And it’s not. In fact, my levels are higher than I’d like, better go correct that…

I’m scared. So scared. And I have been for days.

Maybe even months.

It continues to build. And is intensifying…I am petrified it will become a full blown attack at some point. Even though I am doing my best to avoid that. I want nothing to do with that catastrophe. But I sense it, see it peeking around the corner up ahead. I am scrambling, desperate to change my path.

So what’s got me running?

Or not running. Fight or flight has yet to fully kick in…

It’s one thing. One word.

CAMP.