The Mental Load of Managing Diabetes
Since Hugsy came into my life, my daily routine has completely changed. Suddenly walks, playtime, training, and lots of cuddles take center stage. But as much as I want to immerse myself in him, my blood sugar doesn’t allow me to take a break. I can’t just say: Today I’ll let him run as he likes and forget myself in the process. I always must keep both in mind—his needs and mine.
And sometimes, that feels like an invisible burden. Because while everyone around me only sees the sweet puppy, I’m fighting in the background with fluctuations, alarms, and constant mental calculations. This constant juggling challenges my mental health. I’ve often felt torn: do I take care of my dog first, or my blood sugar? Neither can wait.
Self-Care Is the Foundation, not a Luxury
Over time, I’ve realized that I need relief—and that I’m allowed to take it. Because if I’m not stable, I can’t be a good caregiver for my dog. That was an important lesson for me: self-care is not in competition with caring for him—it’s the foundation of it.
Technology That Supports Mental Wellbeing
Part of that relief comes through technology. I never expected how much a system like the Omnipod® 5 could help me in the background. It doesn’t make my diabetes disappear. Of course, I still need to stay mindful, make decisions, and take responsibility. But it catches me in moments where I would otherwise quickly hit my limits. If Hugsy suddenly runs off outside in excitement and I forget to notice my dropping blood sugar—or forgot to pack a low snack—the Omnipod 5 usually steps in automatically and helps protect me against the low. When I’m cooking while keeping an eye on him and my blood sugar begins to rise, the system notices and adjusts, delivering more insulin as needed.
That might sound like a small thing, but mentally, it means so much. It’s the difference between staring anxiously at my graph all the time or trusting that I don’t have to react perfectly in every situation. It takes away the pressure of always having to be flawless. I get to focus more on the moment—and that’s exactly what connects me with my dog.
Learning to Live in the Moment
Because Hugsy only lives in the now. For him, there are no graphs, no numbers, no tomorrow. He’s happy about the present, his toy, or cuddling on the sofa. And that’s a powerful lesson for me: letting go of my head at times and trusting—in myself, in my insulin pump, and in the AID system.
On the Hard Days, Small Supports Matter
Of course, there are still hard days. Nights when I barely sleep because I hear sensor alarms while checking if Hugsy is breathing calmly. Days when the weight of responsibility feels too heavy and I want to let both balls fall to the ground. But it’s precisely in those moments that I try to remind myself of the small supports that make my life easier.
A Sustainable Life, not a Perfect One
For me, mental health with Type 1 Diabetes doesn’t mean everything runs smoothly. It means having tools and strategies to make the weight bearable. For me, that includes journaling in the morning, going outside with Hugsy, little mindful moments where I feel grateful to have such a wonderful puppy—and the Omnipod 5, quietly working in the background.
This creates a life that isn’t perfect, but it is sustainable. One where I can be both a dog mom and a person with diabetes without one part crushing the other.
In the end, one truth remains: Type 1 Diabetes will never go away. My dog will always need my care. But with the right support and the permission to not forget myself, I can carry both balls—and sometimes even feel like they’re floating effortlessly in the air.
