How it all started

If you had to ask me about anything I've ever been through a few years back, I would have gotten unbelievably offended but hey, we all change right? So let me re-introduce myself.

Hi, My name's Fatima. I was born in South Africa, I'm an American citizen and a resident of Saudi Arabia. I grew up in Saudi and started school here too. I left school in grade 8 and continued my high school years online (I'll get to the "why" in a few). Let me give you a glimpse of 7 year old me, I was the most innocent most pure little girl you'd come across. I was a family person and although I was really shy, I loved being around people. I was incredibly healthy and I loved playing outside. I always had a very real and genuine smile on my face.

For a good few months, I started experiencing body aches, severe headaches, loss of appetite, nausea, and my legs would randomly go into spasms. You'd think I would have told someone about what I started going through but in my mind I was okay and I didn't want to put pressure on my parents or anyone else for that matter. As time passed the spasms got more intense and it started happening more often but because I was always so healthy no one really knew what I was going through. I can't blame them for not knowing because I didn't know how to express myself. In the course of a few months I began to isolate myself from everyone. I was always tired, I was always in pain, I got up with a smile on my face even though my body was exhausted, I continued to go to school just like any other child but my routine began to change. I would skip breakfast and sleep in the car on the way to school, I would sleep through most of my classes and I'd skip recess just to sleep a little more, and you'd think I had energy when I woke up but no haha I would sleep AGAIN in the car on our way home and when I got home I'd skip lunch and go straight to bed, I'd wake up, have some fruit, finish my homework and go back to bed. Looking back it sounds insane but at the time it felt so normal.

9 years ago on March 3rd, Friday afternoon around 4pm, I couldn't hold myself anymore and I decided to build up the courage to ask my parents to take me to the doctor. We got to the ER and my mum spoke to the doctor and he looked at me and told me that nothing was wrong with me and I shouldn't have come to the ER, he told my mum she was crazy because her daughter looked perfectly fine. My parents told him to check my vitals and everything was normal except my glucose level. My A1c was 15 and my sugar was over 700 and no one could believe that the same little girl walked into the ER all by herself with a huge smile on her face. As soon as the doctor heard about my glucose levels they took blood tests and we waited for the results. My parents were in shock and I didn't know how to react because I wanted to be strong for my parents but at the same time I was also trying to process what just happened.

"You have a more aggressive version of Type 1 Diabetes" I started smiling and completely zoned out, I didn't hear anything the doctor said after that. I looked to my left and my mum held my hand and burst into tears, I looked to my right and my dad also broke down as he gave me a hug.

I was then immediately taken to the ICU, where they attempted to stabilize me. I couldn't sleep and as much as I wanted to cry, I couldn't do that either. I was in shock. For the next few years I spent almost all of my time in and out of the hospital.

Looking back as a young little girl, all I needed was a bigger support system. I needed my loved ones around me but everyone was always way too far. In my little mind when you get sick everyone shows up with teddy bears and flowers. All I got was more bad news as the days passed. I was stable for more or less one month and then it was back to fighting it head on.

Everything felt so strange and no one gave me a heads up on how difficult it was going to be. No one told me that I'd have to wake up everyday and choose to fight for my life. No one told me that I'd constantly be in pain. No one taught me how to cope nor did anyone show me how to manage it. It was like being thrown into the deep end with a bunch of sharks and not knowing how to swim. It felt like I was constantly drowning and everyone that tried to help only pushed me in deeper. No one told me how it would affect me not just physically but mentally and emotionally too.

Every time we came back to the hospital I either had a new complication or I was busy getting diagnosed with another illness. Every time I thought I had it together, my whole world came tumbling down and I was back where I started. I then started to develop eating disorders as well as depression and anxiety disorders which didn't make it any easier.

Every time I saw a familiar face, I could see that they felt sorry for me, I could see the sadness in their eyes. I needed a lot of things at the time but pity was never one of them. If you're reading this and you know someone that's going through an invisible illness please don't pity them but instead love them a little more, support them a little more, don't just tell them that you're "there for them" but actually show up and BE there for them.

All everyone ever told me was "you're doing this to yourself" "you're not going to make it" "you're killing yourself" "you won't be able to properly live your life every again" "you're going to die soon" "you aren't eating right" "you look depressed" "you got Type 1 diabetes because you ate too much sugar" "you don't look like you're sick" "it was your fault, you did this" "you called it up for yourself" "why do you have so many bruises" "why do you have so many scars" and SO much more.

"You're not doing it right" has got to be one of my personal favorites because the truth is there is no right or wrong way to manage an invisible illness or ANY illness for that matter. It does not define you nor should it control you. It does not decide your faith nor should it ever be an excuse to hold you back from your true potential. You're greater than it. As much as it hurts, as much as you want to give up and scream, take a moment to acknowledge the fact that you're a warrior. You're a survivor. You have a story to tell that could change millions of lives. You can preach about something that hits close to home and you can help someone. So are you going to spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself or are you going to take your life back? Because you have the power to save someone from the pain you've had to endure.

I spent 9 years of my life being consumed by the pain. It was unbelievably lonely and so dark. In short, I spent 9 years of my life in survival mode and let me just say, it was exhausting. I acted as if my diabetes didn't exist because my mind couldn't come to terms with the new reality I had to adjust to. If I could go back in time I would have been more in control and I wouldn't have let it snatch so many years of my life.

9 years later and I came to a realization that this isn't what I want anymore. I spent way too much of my time fighting to see another morning. I want more out of life. I cut ties with a lot of people and put more energy into me. Although working on something else other than trying to survive may also be a constant battle, your chronic illness should never stop you. So set a goal and take a leap of faith.

What happened to you was not something you could control but what you decide to do with your life from today is entirely in your hands.