Beach Day

Every summer me, my family, and some family friend go to the beach every Thursday and chill. It's awesome ( besides the whole salt in the eyes and sand in uncomfortable places) and I get to reconnect with friends that I haven't seen for nine months; also it a good excuse to stare at cute girls in small bikinis. For better or worse this if probably the best part of my summer, and no that doesn't make me a loner or lame, mostly because I can bring A friend and we do all kinds of crazy shit. There's also a sick beach store that make bomb milkshakes, of course they're like five bucks a piece so you got to make sure that you have enough money to get them, but let me tell you they are totally worth every penny.

I haven't said anything about this yet, obviously this is only my second post, but I have type one diabetes and no I didn't eat too much candy and I'm not over weight. For those of you who don't know what the difference between type one and type two diabetes; type two diabetes is something that you can get rid of while type on diabetes is something that I will have for the rest of my life and it isn't my fault in way. I'm not posting this so that you can feel bad for me or so that I have an excuse to give you a lesson on diabetes, but if I didn't share this part of m life with you then you wouldn't understand some of my references. This is a list of "nicknames" per say that I use to refer to some of my medical supplies: Pack= The pack or case that I use to carry my supplies, Number= My blood glucose(sugar) level, Set= the catheter that is in my stomach that gives me my insulin .

For a while I went through a faze where I started to get so stressed and irritated about being diabetic that I kind of rebelled against it, and as stupid as it was I started to do better in life in general, I wasn't that weird  kid who pokes his finger and had some and had to do some weird thing in class and every time he eats. I mean it was incredible, I even started doing better in school, academically and socially. Then I started to realize that I would die if didn't start taking care of myself I would die, but I couldn't work up the courage to tell my dad and I really needed help. Eventually I had to tell him and still it didn't get better, so now I have to take care of myself, because no one can really help me with this.To whoever happens to read this thank you for letting me vent.
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