Stigma Fighters: Kayla Bornman

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Stigma Fighters: Kayla Bornman

I got Type one Diabetes on the week of my eleventh birthday. I had a sleepover planned, had a cookie cake ordered, the whole shebang. Then genetics happened (on my grandfather’s side). And my sleep over had to be cancelled while I learned a new set of skills that I’d have to carry with my for the rest of my life: counting carbs, checking my blood sugar, insulin usage and ratios between carbohydrates and how much insulin I use to cover that, etc. Needless to say, I adapted quite well for that age. I knew, even then, that this new discovery sucked, but I’d have to get used to it or spend life bitter. So I did.
Years later, however, more autoimmune diseases followed as a result of my genetic companion. First came hypothyroidism, then the discovery several years later that I had GERD, Chron’s, Celiac Disease, and a couple others that I can’t recall at the moment. I adapted to these as well. What else could I do? My diet went from basically suagr free to pretty much unwillingly vegan.
Out of all this hullabaloo, anxiety and depression creeped up into my psyche and formed a nice little cozy home. I’ve been told by medical professionals time and again that this is basically normal, I mean, after everything that has happened to me, why wouldn’t it be? Numerous upon numerous hospital stays, IV drips up the wazoo, declaring medical banctrupcy as a result (no medical insurance, tried obtaining it, that was a bear in itself and never yielded promising results), finances that are worthy of a broke hobo, and now doubt and a negative self image that am I even good enough to live? My life now consists of taking a hormone to supplement my thyroid, and without it I turn into an angry creature that snaps at the flick of a wrist. I barely eat because my stomach region is VERY picky. And now, I’m barely social. My mind like to play games with my sanity.
I’m dating a very loving man, he’s patient with me, doesn’t judge, is attentive. He puts up with me. And I awlays question my validity in his eyes. Why did he pick me??? Am I good enough? Will he get tired of me? Will I dissapoint him? What do I have to give to the relationship besides disease? These are thoughts that plague me every day.
Although I have low self esteem as I live every day on a precipice of health, I still make time to smile and be thankful for what I have. I am surrounded by love, I just surround my self with my own mental made hurdles. I break them down when I feel they get too intrusive and try and move on. It is either that or I wallow in self pity, and that doesn’t do anybody a lick of good.

PicsArt_1444761728477Kayla took some writing classes in college, but never formally became a writer. But she still enjoys doing it from time to time. It helps let out daily frustrations and doubt. Journaling is her favorite activity

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By | 2015-11-21T19:02:18+00:00 November 21st, 2015|Categories: Anxiety, Depression, Stigma Fighters|0 Comments

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