The Numbers Were Right There. I Couldn’t Look.
I was doing everything I was supposed to do. Checking. Adjusting my insulin. Eating carefully. And yet the hypos kept coming. Relentlessly. And with them came something I wasn’t prepared for: a rage at myself so deep it curdled into despair.
I began to despise myself. Not in a vague, self-critical way — I mean a real, bone-deep loathing. Because no matter how hard I tried, my body kept failing me. Or at least, that’s how it felt. I blamed myself for every hypo, even when I was doing everything right. And that blame, layered on top of the physical and emotional wreckage that frequent lows leave behind, eventually became something much darker.
I started having suicidal thoughts. Not a plan — but those quiet, creeping thoughts. “What’s the point of being alive?” “This isn’t living. This is just existing.” When those thoughts started coming to the forefront too often for my liking, something in me snapped into clarity: I just can’t carry on like this. You either live your life, or you give up and die. I chose to live.
What Low Blood Sugar Actually Does To Your Brain
Here’s what the leaflets don’t tell you: hypoglycaemia doesn’t just make you shaky and confused in the moment. Frequent lows can alter your mood, cognition, and emotional regulation over time. When your brain is repeatedly starved of glucose, it affects the very systems that regulate how you feel about yourself and the world.
The aftermath of a hypo can last for hours — long after the numbers have corrected. Many T1Ds describe a “hypo hangover”: exhaustion, irritability, low mood, a sense of hopelessness. When this happens regularly, it can be indistinguishable from clinical depression. Because in many ways, it is.
Add to that the relentless mental load of managing T1D — the vigilance, the adjustments, the self-blame when things go wrong — and the conditions for a serious depressive episode are firmly in place.
Why So Many T1Ds Don’t Recognise It As a Depression
Most people experiencing this don’t think: “I’m depressed.” They think: “I’m failing at managing my diabetes.” They berate themselves. They tell themselves to try harder. And the self-criticism compounds the depression, which makes the diabetes harder to manage, which causes more hypos, which deepens the depression.
It’s a cycle that is almost invisible from the inside — and completely misunderstood from the outside. Non-T1Ds around you may interpret your withdrawal or hopelessness as laziness or attitude. They don’t see the neurochemical reality of what repeated hypoglycaemia does to a person’s mental state.
I believe there are T1Ds going through exactly this right now who have no idea that what they’re experiencing has a name, and that it isn’t their fault.
Signs That Your Lows Might Be Affecting Your Mental Health
Watch for these patterns:
- Persistent low mood that doesn’t lift even when your numbers stabilise
- Intense self-blame or self-hatred after a hypo
- Irritability and anger that feels out of proportion
- A sense of hopelessness about ever getting your diabetes under control
- Withdrawal from people and activities you used to enjoy
- Thoughts of not wanting to be here, or that life isn’t worth living
If the last point resonates, please keep reading and please reach out for help. You are not alone in this, and these thoughts are a symptom — not a verdict on your life.
7 Ways To Start Breaking The Cycle
- Name what’s happening
Call it what it is: depression linked to hypoglycaemia. Not weakness. Not failure. A medical and psychological response to an unrelenting condition. Naming it accurately is the first step to addressing it. - Separate the hypo from the self-blame
A hypo is a blood sugar event. It is not evidence of your inadequacy. Even people who manage their T1D brilliantly have hypos. Your numbers are data, not a judgement. - Talk to your diabetes team about hypo frequency
If you’re having frequent lows despite doing everything right, something in your management plan needs adjusting — whether that’s your insulin ratios, your CGM alerts, or your targets. This is a clinical problem with clinical solutions. Ask for help. - Tell someone what’s really going on
Not just “I’m a bit tired.” The real version. Sharing the darkness with someone you trust — even just once — can begin to loosen its grip. - Stop the comparison
You are not failing because someone else’s T1D looks more manageable. Every T1D journey is different. Yours is yours. - Make one tiny act of self-compassion today
Not a grand gesture. One small thing that says: I matter. A walk. A meal you enjoy. A conversation you’ve been putting off. Self-compassion isn’t indulgence — it’s medicine. - Consider specialist support
A therapist or coach who understands the specific emotional landscape of Type 1 diabetes can help you unpick the cycle in a way that generic mental health support often can’t. This intersection of physical and emotional health needs someone who gets both.
When to Seek Urgent Help
If you are having frequent thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please speak to your GP today, call Samaritans on 116 123, or go to your nearest A&E if you feel unsafe. What you’re experiencing is real, it’s serious, and it is treatable. Please don’t wait.
You Are Not Your Numbers
The thought that pulled me back from the edge wasn’t complex. It was simply: I still have a life to live. And I want to live it.
If you’re in this dark place right now, I want you to know that it can get better. Not because the diabetes disappears — it doesn’t — but because your relationship with it can change completely. From something you’re at war with, to something you live alongside.
That shift is possible. I’ve made it myself. And helping other T1Ds make it is at the heart of everything I do.
Find out more about how I help here.
Pete 🙂
