What do you think of when you hear the number 3? A magic number or the age that you went to play school? That's how old I was when I got diabetes in 1997 and my life was changed forever. People judge on what they see when the real truth in is the story behind it all. I've had a pretty interesting life so far, so here it is the confessions of a diabetic drama Queen.

Me & my brother have diabetes, I suppose that's a plus of all of this condition I have a great friendship with my brother. So ever since 1995 my parents have had the ordeal of having a diabetic child. We both have 3 injections a day, which doesn't bother me in the slightest. Blood sugars on the other hand are a complete pain in the butt (not that I can do anything about it!) but you want the truth, right?

The memories are forever engraved in my mind, of patronising wallpaper of animals and people smiling. They were the only smiling faces I ever saw apart the unconvincing ones on my parents and the doctors faces.

When I was four I discovered something a lot worst than anything that had happen to me before. Having diabetes means I have to have blood tests, no one likes going to the hospital but being a toddler and having a needle put in your arm it's my idea of fun!

I know it's for the best but it's the way they treated a four-year-old child that got to me. I would be pushed against walls, trapped in the corner like a mouse and for what? A small amount of blood. A year later I knew what was coming but they weren't going to get to me this time.

I sat outside the room, hearing my brother cry and waiting for my inevitable doom. I noticed something at the end of the corridor, an open fire exit, it was now or never so I ran. My mum caught me but that's the point they finally got the message. You may think I'm over reacting but if you had the memories that I've got then you would understand.

They sent me to a psychiatrist to talk about my so-called problems. Problems that they had created so why did I feel like the one being punished? They bribed me, analysed what and me it resulted was absolutely nothing. The score stood at 1-0, nil poi to the adults, the supposedly wiser people in this league!

I was bullied for about 2 years mainly because of my diabetes. People stay away from me because I was different and I spent most of the time at primary school alone. I must have been about seven years old. I thought about running away but that would only result in becoming the late Lauren Fevre.

In March of 2004 my parents got divorced and it was another black hole, an unavoidable and hellish ditch in my life span. Insecurity and loneliness were was constant companions. I moved house and everything in my life felt empty and meaningless once more.

Some of the worst memories are waking up to hear screaming for help. To see my brother and best friend collapsed and fitting on the floor is completely soul destroying. A cold wash of reality follows over you and you feel unbelievably helpless. What I find the scarcest is seeing what could happen to you and it's something that you can't prepare yourself for.

My opinions about diabetes aren't all bad! I try to teach people about my condition because when people hear diabetes they just think of fat over weight people that can't control what they put in there mouths. People need to understand not every diabetic is like that, everyone judges but we should learn to listen and to remember first impressions aren't always right! My science teacher asks me to talk to year eleven students about diabetes. It gives me a buzz to know I'm helping people and having this condition doesn't me I use it to my advantage.

The only problem I've got is going to the hospital every three months and feeling like a prize pig and the doctors are butchers after some decent sausage and bacon! To the doctors my brother and me are just a bunch of facts and figures in which they can toy around with. They have no consideration to my feelings and are very thoughtless it what they say and how they say it. The reason I write is so I can change things I disagree with because I'm fed up of feeling powerless and insignificant.

After all these years, I'm just getting on with my life and I'm unbelievably happy! I always say diabetes is an endless battle but who said you can't have fun at the same time I do everything I want to do and couldn't be more content with my life. There is a part of me that almost likes having diabetes because it made me who I am today and all those challenges were just a set up process for my brilliant life ahead. To end here is a ballad I wrote at school about everything and a brief summary of my life (so far!).

Hard Needles and Hospital Beds

The years my life started were the years I'd rather forget.
My first memories of hard needles and hospital beds.
The bruises are to show and my heart is like lead.
No one is to blame despite what I think.

The stairs were cold that night,
My brother was in bed.
I was up for a reason,
Of which I wasn't sure.
My mother was in the front room,
Crying but what for?

Before I knew I was in the car.
My dad and sister were there,
And now I knew for sure,
The hospital was the final stop.
On this train of secrets and despair,
I was crying and I knew what for.

There unfamiliar faces,
Were all around.
People rushed all around me like head-less chickens.
This was going to end bad for sure.
The mobs of uniforms were speaking,
But I didn't want to hear anymore.

The words seem to ring in my ears.
The words of my mother,
And everything around me felt cold.
She had always known for sure.
That I would get what my brother had,
Diabetes, that's what I was here for.

Everyday I would cry my eyes out.
Because of them,
They judged me (no wonder really).
No one really knew my name for sure.
My so called 'friends' who bullied me,
Because of my diabetes, that's what for.

'Oh, stay away from her, she's got something wrong with her'
They would say.
I would sit alone at lunch.
They were just cruel children, sure!
I would sit alone at break.
I had some good times but the bad ones happen more.

My parents tried to compensate,
But even they gave up.
They resulted to divorce.
There would be no good times for sure.
Two houses and more tears to be shed.
I began to wonder what life was worth living for?

They tried to make me things do things I didn't want to do.
They wanted my blood.
Almost like vampires in the night!
They thought they were doing the best but I wasn't so sure.
I would scream and shout,
But they pushed me to the edge but what for?

They sent me to talk to some one about my 'problem'.
They thought I was mad.
They would try to get inside my brain.
I was just scared I thought they knew that for sure.
I was like there prize pig!
I was fed up and didn't want anymore.

If you find a moral to this tale,
Then I'm glad.
My words have meant something to someone.
Now all I'm waiting for.
Is my knight in shining armour!
Also help for my condition or maybe even a cure.

The years my life started were the years I'd rather forgot.
My first memories of hard needles and hospital beds.