Almost at the Limit

Emmanuel Moreno Lopez, Mexico

This work is born from a deeply personal place: my father and my grandparents lived with diabetes. Growing up watching how they dealt with those numbers every day, with that silent stress, left a mark on me. Their experiences became both an inspiration and a reminder that the battle is fought not only in the body but also in the mind.

“Almost at the Limit” seeks to visually represent the constant anxiety many people with diabetes feel when monitoring their glucose levels. The composition uses overlapping faces and hands to convey confusion, mental pressure, and the feeling of being trapped in multiple thoughts at once. This fragmentation reflects how the mind divides itself among fear, worry, frustration, and self-control.

The dramatic use of red and blue symbolizes two opposing forces: red as alert, stress, and urgency, while blue suggests calm, control, and clinical detachment. These opposing energies collide within the patient, representing the inner conflict that arises even before seeing the result.

At the center, the glucometer displays a reading of 127 — a number technically within the normal range, yet very close to the threshold. That closeness creates a real and persistent anxiety: the fear of being just about to go wrong. For many people with diabetes, every measurement can trigger thoughts of guilt, frustration, or fear of losing control. The device thus becomes an emotional symbol, not merely a medical one.

The multiple hands emphasize the repetitive, almost compulsive action of testing — a necessary routine, but one that drains the mind. The fragmented face represents the patient’s emotional identity: outwardly composed, but inwardly divided by worry.

With this piece, I aim to express that anxiety in people with diabetes doesn’t always come from bad results, but from the constant possibility of crossing that line. Living “almost at the limit” is a mental state — a daily reminder that even the slightest variation can bring serious consequences. This work invites empathy, understanding, and a visualization of that invisible pressure.

The Quiet Courage

Kanjaree Suppawittaya, Thailand

Living with Type 1 Diabetes comes with an invisible weight — as a T1D patient for over ten years, I have come to the realization that perfect control every day is nearly impossible. Being constantly aware of keeping our blood sugar level in check, injecting the right doses of different types of insulin, managing high and lows, and making hundreds of other diabetes-related decisions — on top of all the normal decisions everyone makes daily — create a feeling of “never being off duty” and an anxiety that comes from within.

While I have gained immense support from my family, peers, and healthcare team, there are still moments when I faced social situations and the pressure of eyes and ears that do not understand. I am grateful to be able to share my T1D story, but the need to constantly explaining myself to everyone who sees my conditions — hoping deeply that they will understand, and sometimes letting it pass for those who do not — is overwhelming. Others’ misconceptions and hurtful predictions about my future are often painful and sometimes make me feel uncertain despite having a lot of faith and confidence in myself and my abilities.

Ultimately, living with T1D is not just about managing numbers — it is about finding balance, resilience, and acceptance. For me, my first step was embracing all of who I am and saying to myself, “Yes, I have diabetes, and I will live well with it.” And that is exactly what I have done up until now. Being a patient myself and seeing what many may do not shaped me into a hardworking and empathetic third-year medical student today. I still carry some fears, but I know the strength within me and the support of our worldwide diabetes community will help me overcome anything. I hope to live a life well-lived, for the little 10-year-old me and for all of you, my dearly loved friends.

So little, so big

Irene Cotroneo, Italy

Every time I look at my insulin pump cart, I think about the fact that it is an incredibly small element that keeps me alive. So small and fragile but so big and necessary. Big because it is my first need and it is the second main character of my life, after myself. Sometimes I feel like there is no way out and I panic. Sometimes diabetes is just an ordinary task. I often struggle, but I keep on going. It is how it is.

Dancing in the rain

Leonie van Someren, the Netherlands

When educated well on diabetes you are able to thrive in the daily storm of diabetes. Mentally as well physically.

Are they getting the Point?

Fanni Den, United Kingdom

Moving from Hungary to the UK 7 years ago was an eye opening and life changing experience for me. The difference between the diabetes care I’ve received in each country was huge. It has completely opened up my world. Therefore Earth and space was the foundation of my picture. I wanted to show the reality how different parts of the Earth get different amount of Diabetes support and care.

I think of injections, insulin, finger pricks, hospital and medication first when it comes to diabetes care so I’ve picked “insulin injection” - the one if not the most important thing for a Diabetic - as my main action. The red dots ( points) and bruises on the belly are the marks of the injections representing access to diabetes care. The areas with more dots show locations with better access to diabetes.

The search for balance

Monia Elhajjaoui, Italy

Diabetes is all about balance. You may experience highs and lows, you may be provided with the tools and the knowledge to navigate through it and stay afloat...but you may fall and get hurt sometimes.

TSome waves will be bigger than others, some will be predictable and some will be sudden. Even when your legs hurt and you feel exhausted, you still have to push through and stay on your board, hoping for waves easier to surf.

Parched

Charlotte Kessler, Parched

I created an art piece called 'Parched' inspired by my journey with Type 1 diabetes. This piece holds deep personal significance for me. The word 'parched' played a pivotal role in my diagnosis – I kept repeating it, catching the attention of my mom, who then tested my blood sugar. It was alarmingly high at 562.

DThe blue circle in my artwork symbolizes Type 1 diabetes. To me, it represents the entirety of what this condition means in my life, both the positive and challenging aspects. I used test strips to form the circle, connecting it to the constant monitoring that's part of managing diabetes. I decided to make the devices on my body pop out in black and white. It's a reflection of my mixed feelings about them – while I'm proud of my Type 1 identity, I sometimes feel insecure about the visibility of these devices.

In my artwork, you'll also notice an orange juice, which speaks to the ever-present concern of low blood sugar. Behind me, there's a red line of beads, representing my blood sugar tracking on my Dexcom, including the high and low blood sugar arrows. It embodies the ongoing effort required to keep my blood sugar levels in check.

This art piece, 'Parched,' is my way of sharing my unique journey with Type 1 diabetes, capturing the pride, insecurities, and constant vigilance that are part of my daily life.

In my mind

Ivy Hayward, Canada

Living with type 1 diabetes means carrying a constant weight — a presence always behind me, breathing down my neck. It’s the anxiety of every meal, every number, every night. It never really leaves.

I’ve been living with it since 2019 and I still hate it most of the time. It feels invasive, heavy — something that steals my freedom and fills every moment with worry. It drives me mad sometimes, this constant breath reminding me that I’m never completely free.

But I know I can’t go back. The only way forward is to keep walking, with it right behind me. Not as an enemy, but as a stubborn travel companion — one I’m slowly learning to live with, one breath, one step at a time.

Learning on the way

Maga Nogueira, Germany

Under the premise of this year's competition "Access to Diabetes Care: Education to Protect Tomorrow" I thought of the concept: Diabetes education as the way.

Looking back over my life so far, I have never stopped learning. The more I learn, the more I can confirm that I am on the right path.

I use the metaphor of the maze to talk about how lost a person with diabetes can feel, not knowing what to do about it.

The key is education so that we don't stumble on the path we deserve.

The diabetes parent

Isabelle Isa Kristin Steineck, Sweden

This painting became an exploration of the ongoing, often unseen, battles of diabetes in the form of a reflection on the grand Renaissance battle paintings.

In diabetes, my protection takes many forms- but rarely the physical armour the outside world may picture. Often, the critical piece of armour that people with diabetes must rely on for our protection when heading into this relentless battle is education. Access to reliable information keeps us safe and enables us to stand strong against this invisible opponent. Numbers and data take up a huge amount of space in my mind- as opposed to the golden halo of those Renaissance portraits- but an education on how to use those numbers, how to categorise them and understand them, is another crucial element in diabetes self-management.

This painting explores the balance between strength and exhaustion, the second unseen battle in diabetes. I believe that people with diabetes are heroes, that we are so much stronger than any one of us often realises. However, my diabetes journey has featured many moments of exhaustion- both the daily ups and downs and more significantly, burnout. I have struggled with obsessive behaviours in diabetes and disordered eating, and have spent time in therapy for the emotional burden of diabetes. The strength and exhaustion do not outweigh each other but must exist mutually in this perpetually exhausted hero.

There are days when it goes well but there will never be a victory, I will never 'win' these invisible battles, just wake up and fight again tomorrow.

Diabetes Doesn't Discriminate

Orla Nolan, Ireland

I’m especially passionate about the promotion of diabetic education as three of my family members are diabetic so I understand the challenges of daily life due to diabetes. However, many people who are not personally effected or have a diabetic in the family are unaware of the risk factors and warning signs of diabetes. With more than half a billion adults worldwide living with diabetes in 2021 the need for education is stronger than ever. Your health is your wealth. Regardless of your path in life (represented by the road in my illustration), gender, age or ethnicity you are at risk of diabetes. Diabetes doesn’t discriminate. Protect yourself. Educate.