I was diagnosed five years ago or so, and about once a year I have a mini mental breakdown about how shit it all is. And I know it's less shit than other diseases I could have, but there's a more-shit trump card for almost any disease you could have.
Something that's almost guaranteed to send me off on one is the forced positivity that gets chucked at you around the time of diagnosis.
"There are so many lovely things like lentils and buckwheat you can have, you might find yourself eating even better and more healthily than before" — if I wanted to eat those, I'd have been eating them already (actually, I did, and when not forced, they can be quite enjoyable; doesn't mean I appreciate being talked to like this is a golden "opportunity" to completely change my diet).
"It's an opportunity to learn to cook lovely homemade meals!" — ditto.
"It can feel difficult at first, but when you start feeling better you'll know it's worth it/aren't you grateful you've got something that's so easy to fix, all you've got to do is some lifestyle changes" — I don't feel any better (though apparently my bone scans and gut biopsies have returned to normal), the dietary restrictions mean I can't do a lot of the things I want to do in the way I want to do them, and I still have to eat a fistful of tablets every day to manage vitamin/mineral deficiencies.
"Lots of restaurants now have GF options and some cuisines are great for wheat-free options" — I've still got to check ahead, scrutinise information and practically interrogate the poor staff, because I'm not going to bet my health on marketing-speak on the menu aimed at faddists, corporate guff on websites written by someone a hundred miles from the kitchen making the food, or an assumption that some random pakora happen to have been made to a traditional recipe using entirely contamination-free surfaces, utensils and ingredients, and fried in oil reserved only for gluten-free foods, when there's people dealing with naan and roti three steps away. And I still feel awkward and apprehensive about eating out, partly because I don't do it often because of the faff and apprehension.
"There are so many more options these days" — yes, I'm glad things are better than they were in the past, and that I have options beyond long-life rice bread that looks like tinned psoriasis. That was shit compared to this. This is still shit compared to my life before CD.
"People understand so much more these days" — yes, and sometimes feel obliged to cater for me when I'd almost rather they didn't. Going to visit family? No matter how lovely or matter-of-fact they are, I feel like a burden and a nuisance whether we're eating out or they're hosting me. Staying at home? DP is restricted to what I can eat, because it's such a faff trying to keep things separate and safe, and he'd feel so bad if I was glutened at home, that it's easier to just have a GF household. And people think they know what GF means and how to make a GF meal, even when they don't.
Travel is a pain in the arse. Eating out is a pain in the arse. Meeting friends is a pain in the arse. Cooking is a pain in the arse. Shopping — SHOPPING — is a massive pain in the arse. [Edit: oh, and you've just become that little bit more annoying to buy presents for, too.]
It's shit, and you're allowed to feel it's shit for your DD. (BTW she should be able to have McDonald's fries; they're usually cooked in a fryer that isn't used for anything gluten-containing.) You're also allowed to feel it's shit for you and the rest of the family. That doesn't mean you're blaming her, and I'm absolutely sure you're not going to be lumping her with all your feelings about it to deal with on top of her own. That's partly what MN is for, isn't it, to have a place where you can get all that anger and annoyance at the shitness of the whole thing out, and go back to being positive, capable Mum with DD?