Why is it that in the grocery store deli meats are shaped into lumps that reflect the size of the animal of origin? Are we so far removed from the processing of our food that we can be persuaded that a chicken shaped, chicken sized blob of meat in fact grows off of a chicken, somehow? That a turkey-shaped hunk can be found attached to a turkey? That a boneless, pig-leg-shaped appendage can be found somewhere on a pig? And if so, isn’t that a little disturbing?

I feel like much of my world is designed to placate me. Meats are orderly, clean, boneless and shaped like their appropriate animal, when they are actually a composite of various less aesthetically pleasing bits. “Antibacterial” products are both eponymous and synonymous with a false sense of sterility, where in fact they facilitate (albeit very slowly) the mutation of bacteria into fatal antibiotic-resistant strains. Diabetics are given a neat and tidy formula of treatment to fix any situation, and when a situation is not fixable or predictable by the prescribed formula, the diabetic is the one found at fault. I feel a dearth of humanity in this practice, and having such generalities persist in our medical and social systems is saddening. In a disease so easily influenced by things as changeable and uncontrollable as mood, quality of sleep, and varying amounts of necessary exertion, the paradigm of care should be focused on the individual, not the disease. I’m ready. I’m tired of feeling guilty for not fitting the formula.

I don’t want to be placated any more. I don’t want to be reassured that if I just do this, everything will be fine, and when everything isn’t fine in spite of my best efforts, I don’t want to be unduly blamed. We are organic and ephemeral, and we are all unique in every way. This should never be a source of guilt.