Sometimes you land in a situation and the only option you have is to pretend to laugh. Of course, as you laugh you have to force out a smile. Once removed from the situation, you're able to reflect on what occurred and that is when the pain begins to hit you. The pain of what you laughed at, the pain of pretending to laugh.
On Monday afternoon, I was asked what I was giving up for Lent. I responded I wasn't sure yet but I'd figure it out. The person, who obviously thinks they are the next George Carlin, made a suggestion.
"You should give up insulin."
Hahahahaha! Oh my God. That is hilarious! My sides ache from laughing so much. (Please note, that line is dripping in sarcasm).
They laughed real laughs. I chuckled awkward pretend chuckles. I tried to pretend it was funny and said "funny" things in return but really, it wasn't funny. I also thanked the person for wishing I was dead. Because, you know, insulin is somewhat vital to me staying alive. But yes, dude was right, I should give up insulin for Lent because hey, what would be a bigger sacrifice for the Lord than my life? I have a hunch the Lord does not approve of me giving up insulin for Lent, thankfully.
After we parted ways, it started to sink in what they were joking about. I truly wanted to cry because when you think about it, it isn't funny. I didn't ask for my pancreas to stop working. I didn't ask for my diabetes. It. Just. Happened. The statement "You should give up insulin," is highly offensive, hurtful and inappropriate for the setting it was made in. By the time I got home that evening I was fighting back tears. I refuse to cry over someone acting like a twat, a douche, an a-hole, etc. Not worth my tears but a few tears unfortunately did sneak out.
Their statement left me feeling as if I had no value. That I'm insignificant. That I'm not worthy of insulin. That hurts. What hurts more was having to pretend to laugh about it.
When I pointed out that if I gave up insulin I would die, they continue to laugh and pretend they were George Carlin (Sorry...stumbled upon some of his recordings on my iPod the other night). It wasn't until I pointed out if I was dead they'd probably have to pick up the slack and do my work that they stopped laughing. That just added to the hurt.
I struggled to sleep last night because I was still bothered and hurt and nearly 24 hours later, I'm still fuming. Sure, I make jokes about my diabetes quite a bit but if I don't find things to laugh at, this disease can become overwhelming and depressing. However, none of my jokes trivialize my diabetes. And never do I joke about it in regards to death.
And for the record, I hate, truly HATE the joke always floating around social media about John has 24 candy bars. John ate 22. What does John have? John has diabetes. I'm not one for violence but if I ever met the person who got that going, I wouldn't hesitate to slap them upside the back of of their head. I just do not find anything funny about that "joke."
I apologize for the whining, negative tone to this post. I try really hard to focus on the good things but I just couldn't sit on this. I'm hoping if I put it in writing it might help my fumes disappear.
I'm still unsure which is worse -- having such an offensive statement said to me or being in the awkward situation of having to pretend to laugh at it as if it was funny.
For the record -- I'm not giving up anything for Lent. I want to focus on good things so I'm going to find something to be grateful/appreciative for each day and write it down. It is something I often forget to do and it should help overall.