Picture a room filled with strangers, sitting in a circle,
understanding eyes, so sure they have so much in common. And
me. Standing. My right hand is up, my left hand, sweaty, is
hiding behind my back, trying to cover the already covered
pump. "Hi, my name is Gali and I am sick. I have diabetes."
The understanding eyes open a little wider. I can hear their
minds thinking 'how dare she mention the s word- sick.'
Everyone is looking at me. 'What the fuck?!' I think...
'What the fuck???' I think and say "listen, I don't know
what about you, but this is not something I got. This is not
a present. The only thing I got was sick! I am S-I-C-K."
small cloud of whispering came up. I set down, now sweaty
and shaky.
A belly spilling over too tight jeans started talking to me.
"I am who I am thanks to the diabetes" the girl attached to
the belly came right to me. "I'm more mature,
self-assured... this is who I am." "I didn't say it..." I
stopped. This is too stupid. "We are all the same here" said
the tiny woman in the middle. "We are all in the same boat."
I could see all the understanding eyes nodding like they
were playing Simon says or something, but I never did like
that game. 'I'm not like you' - the first thought that came
to my head. 'I'm nothing like you' - the second. 'I don't
belong here' - the third thought came to stay.
The girl attached to the big belly was considerably scary.
It seemed as if all of her clothes had shrunken in the drier
in that same day. Her body kept pouring out, she didn't seem
to try and stop it though. She was very loud and she kept
looking at me. I was the outsider. I didn't want to belong.

Her belly was too self assured considering her size. I liked
that. My belly was half her size and she couldn't talk like
that. We were all just a bunch of bellies. A bunch of sweet
bellies talking.
I heard stories, the same story in different versions. My
story. I didn't find comfort in being in a room filled with
strangers who think they have been through the same hell
that I have. They know nothing of me and they know nothing
of my pain. They were all accepting and whole. I was still
fighting the world. And they were fighting me.
I suddenly became too self aware. I knew I didn't belong
there, I knew I didn't want to take a part of it. I was
uncomfortable in my own skin, in my own sickness. I have had
it for 10 years now and still, dealing with it was as
natural as walking backwards with my eyes closed.
I tried to make myself disappear, but it never works. so I
had to move to plan B- surviving a few hours of group
support and then moving on until it's a fainted memory. I
hated plan B.
The pump attached to my ass became more uncomfortable than
ever, if that's even possible. Everyone was staring at my
belly. No, wait, I was staring at everybody else's bellies.
They were all the same. I would like to say all the same but
mine, but unfortunately, my belly fitted quite nicely to the
group, too bad for her that she was attached to me.
The tiny woman (with no belly at all) threw some cards with
pictures on them on the floor. On most of the cards there
were pictures of flowers and birds and blue skies. She told
us to pick one picture that represents our diabetes. I chose
the thunder card. "Understanding" eyes open wide again. "Can
you tell us why you've picked this card?" fuck, she starts
with me. "Uhm... I don't know." What was I supposed to pick,
the birth card? That just means that the me prior to the
diabetes died before the current fucked up me took over. So
where is the death card?  
"Why don't you try to explain anyway?" Uhm... because I
don't want to. Jesus, where is the exit sign in this place?
I tried to explain that it is like a storm. I have thunder
and lightning inside of me. It is never quiet. It is never
balanced. It is never under control.
I thought I did well. "But you know," the tiny woman started
"after the storm, there is always a rainbow." 'And then
another storm' I wanted to add but didn't. It is a lose-lose
situation.
Just when I was about to give up and become an integral part
of this zombie group, I have noticed another belly who held
a somewhat black card- salvation!
I stared over her direction in the most obvious way
possible, making the tiny woman wonder what I am so
concentrated on. She followed the almost visible line my
eyes drew right to that other card. "How about you?" she
continued to her next victim. YES! I'm a genius!  Now I have
time to plan my escape. I thought about faking a seizure,
but it wouldn't work in a room filled with
I-love-my-diabetes's. Taking my stuff and running away
without looking backwards was too obvious and faking my
sudden death was not an option. I was lost.
I had to sit it through. I prayed for Chinese torture
instead, but I guess it was too much to ask for.
Finally, the tiny woman concluded things I didn't care about
and set a date for our next meeting. "Unfortunately" I told
her face to face "I won't be able to make it"