Alongside the grief of acquiring DISABILITY, I seem to have got stuck with grief's Ugly Sister- Denial..
When I first got really disabled, I kept having the same dream, : I dreamt that I was walking, lost, around a city...and then I would remember that I can't walk, look down at my legs,and a great wave of panic and shame, would sweep over me. Vulnerable and immobilized I would ask the same question:
"How did I allow this to happen?!"
The next night I would be in Denial again.
I'm talking about acquired Disability that comes from an accident, an acute illness, ageing, or series of illnesses or Chronic illnesses. It is never what you wanted and it will feel like the worst possible time for this to happen.
I have also discovered that I hold deep- seated Ableist attitudes to disability ( more on this in a future Blog). I have felt rage at not being able to navigate a World that often considers disabled people as not important enough to be catered for. I still feel so frustrated at myself that I care so much that a 'special' ramp has to be dragged out of storage when I appear, that people stare at me wondering what my story is.
To join the ranks of the Disabled you need Special Keys/lanyards/parking permits, gadgets, gizmos and furniture with wheels..but most of all you need to pull on your Big Pants and get brave. Like it or not the World now considers you as NOT LIKE THEM.
Disability or a disabling illness places a huge economic economic and social burden on you. You lose friends,and opportunities and have to manage your day to day routines with the precision of an Olympic athlete, and the discipline of a trappist monk.
A few years ago I would not have dreamt of calling myself Disabled. I was not THAT person. Then I had a battle-royale to get the disability benefit that I truly deserved, culminating in me lying on the floor of the court at my Tribunnal. Being forced to advocate for myself made me see the unvarnished truth: I can't walk more than very short distances with a walker, my house is full of disability aids and everyone has felt like a surrender of territory.
During the last 4 years I have come to know that I AM Disabled...and maybe...just MAYBE... I can live with that. And that maybe after 50- plus years of fighting my body, I can start to treat it with kindness, and be full of wonder and gratitude for its sheer hard work. Over the years I have starved it, told it to do better, to try harder, and pushed it way beyond its limits, when it begged me for rest. Now its thin angles are softer I berate it for its slackness.
Some people may flourish under such trials: they may develop unusual gifts and inspire others. They maybe an award- winning physicist or mountaineer, film-maker, Paralympian or Writer. Some may fly gracefully: This Blog is for us- the ordinary elephants, who were not meant to be exceptional, but who want to feel accepted and appreciated for who we ARE- not who we would have been with a different body.
THANK YOU FOR READING & SHARING THE CHRONIC ELEPHANT.
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