just a second [JesBible]

Two [Before the Shadows]

Bible

I lay back on the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling tiles, counting the patterns as I tried to escape the weight of my reality. But my mind was relentless, dragging me back to memories I both cherished and resented.

I remember life before diabetes. I was vibrant, full of energy, and free. My days were filled with laughter and spontaneity-hanging out with friends, going on road trips with the windows down, feeling the wind whip through my hair. We would drive late into the night, fueled by nothing but fast food and the excitement of being young and alive. I was the life of the party, always the first to suggest something reckless and fun.

But the most precious moments were the quiet ones. Lying on the grass in the park with my best friend, Sarah, sharing our dreams under a sky painted with stars. I could taste the freedom in those nights-nothing was off-limits, and everything felt possible. My future stretched out like an open road, full of promise.

Then came the first signs. A strange fatigue that wouldn't go away, the sudden thirst that no amount of water could quench. I brushed it off at first, thinking it was just stress from my college workload. But the late-night study sessions turned into late-night trips to the hospital. I can still hear the doctor's voice as he delivered the news-words that shattered my world.

"Type 1 diabetes."

At first, I thought it was just a minor inconvenience, something I could manage. But as the weeks turned into months, the weight of my new reality crushed me. I became a shadow of the person I once was, trapped in a cycle of blood tests, insulin shots, and dietary restrictions. The vibrant colors of my life faded to gray, and I felt like I was living someone else's story, one I never wanted to be a part of.

I snapped back to the present, anger bubbling up inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. I couldn't take it anymore-the sterile room, the constant monitoring, the sympathy in Jes's eyes. It was suffocating. The pain and resentment coursed through me, boiling over into a rage that I struggled to contain.

"Why is this happening to me?" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. I could feel my heart racing, adrenaline flooding my system as I tossed my pillow across the room. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't want to be this person!"

The sudden silence that followed felt deafening. I could feel the weight of the nurses' and doctors' eyes on me, their unspoken concern palpable in the air. I hated their pity, their careful words meant to soothe. It only made my anger burn brighter.

I kicked the edge of the bed, frustration pouring out of me like a dam breaking. "I was supposed to be living my life! I had plans, dreams... a future! Now, I'm just a patient, a liability. How is this fair?"

I felt tears sting my eyes, hot and furious, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't give in to the weakness that diabetes had forced upon me. This illness was like a thief in the night, stealing everything I held dear. I hated how it made me feel-vulnerable, dependent, small.

"What's wrong with me?" I cried out, my voice cracking. "Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I go back to who I was?"

I fell back against the pillows, panting, my chest heaving with emotion. The weight of despair crashed over me, and I pressed my palms against my eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay. I didn't want anyone to see how broken I felt, how much I wanted to scream at the world for being so unjust.

But deep down, I knew that my anger wasn't just about the disease. It was the loss of my old self, the life I had built, the person I had been. Diabetes didn't just take away my health; it stole my identity, and I was left grappling with the fragments of who I used to be.

As I lay there in the dim light of my hospital room, I realized I was at a crossroads. I could let this anger consume me, or I could find a way to fight back. But in that moment, all I felt was the bitterness of a life interrupted, and the desire to escape this prison of my own making.