I didn’t think much of the fatigue at first. Everyone gets tired, I told myself. It was a busy month, long hours at work, late dinners, too much coffee. I was used to pushing through exhaustion because I had built my life on that kind of resilience.
But when the tiredness began to feel like a fog that no amount of sleep could lift, I knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t the ordinary kind of fatigue that comes after a hard day; it was a deep, sinking kind that made me feel as if my body had quietly begun working against me.
That was how my journey with high blood sugar began not with a diagnosis, but with a slow unraveling. Looking back, my body had been trying to talk to me for months, whispering through subtle signs I brushed aside as nothing serious. I just didn’t know how to listen.
The first thing I noticed was how thirsty I had become. It wasn’t the kind of thirst that a glass of water could quench. I’d drink, and then moments later, I’d feel the dryness again; my lips cracked, my tongue thick, my throat raw.
I kept a bottle of water next to me at all times, refilling it endlessly, convinced that maybe the weather was to blame. But no matter how much I drank, it was.+see more details. .
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