Do I feel happy about it?
Strangely, I used to love my birthdays. 3 years ago, it was my first birthday in Canada and I felt alone and distant. 2 years ago, I felt like I was retired and was diagnosed with depression (which was a lovely birthday gift to have, next to a necktie and socks). A year ago, I broke up with a terrible girlfriend, which was actually a huge sigh of relief.
Well, it's not really been a good month heading into my birthday. There were days where I'd just felt weak. I know, it's hard to believe a big boy like me would be weak but I really did. It was like, I just wanted to keel over and heave heavily like a beached whale. There were mornings where I couldn't breathe right anymore. It didn't feel like allergies or asthma. It just felt like exhaustion (from carrying the big belly)
I haven't been sleeping very well since the start of June. I haven't had a full 7 hours of sleep because I impulsively wake up at 2am to go to the bathroom. That has never happened before this past year and due to the lack of continuous sleep, I've gotten headaches and had to sleep at 4am. Thank god my work starts late.
Because of the lack of sleep, I haven't been thinking well. I've been having more depression and anxiety episodes than I usually do. I haven't been to a psychiatrist since February of this year because he retired, possibly on getting too tired of hearing my stories.
I've been thirstier than ever. I could finish at least 4 liters of water in a single 8-hour work day. I've bought so much bottled water that I could tell you which brands to buy (Nestle Pure Life, Evian, cold Dasani, and cold Aquafina) and which not to buy (Naya, Happy Water, warm Aquafina, Walmart Great Value). This has been concerning for me because there were times where I've gotten a dry mouth and it led me to more drinking. All this drinking had then started to affect the way I eat. Two months ago, I could eat several rolls of sushi, three cheeseburgers, a huge box of rice and teriyaki beef, or a big greasy meal of roasted chicken. Now, the thought of eating too much demoralizes me to my surprise. I LOVE eating a lot but now I really don't feel like it. I just wanna drink more Coke and cold water.
After looking up the symptoms online, I finally might have diabetes. It's my own fault, of course, and I own up to every wrong thing I've eaten for the past 24 years. Bad eating habits have finally caught up to me. The oceans of Coca-Cola and Sprite that I've drank. The barrels of orange juice I drank in depression. They all finally caught up.
It's not official and I don't wanna jump to conclusions but this is a big guess I'm making. I haven't really gone to the doctor yet this past month. It's not that I'm lazy, which is the big reason I use all the time, but it's because during the day of my appointments, he calls in sick coincidentally.
I'm going to my doctor this Tuesday and hopefully he doesn't call in sick. I wanna know if it's official or not. I hate self-diagnosis and I hate jumping into medical conclusions.
Worst case scenario, I have diabetes and it eventually kills me. If that's the case, I plan on beating it. If I don't, well, I've had a fun life.