Regarding work, and the greener grass...

Sometimes, people make thoughtless comments which affect me somewhat unexpectedly. I'm pretty thick-skinned now, so i'm not running off and crying about it. While i know there's no malice in these people's intent, i find myself going over these statements in my head. Pain has been playing havoc with my sleep lately; so going over shit in my head while i'm trying not to give attention to Pain isn't really helping me sleep. 

I've been feeling very strong in who I am. I've found my voice again, reaffirmed my power. I accept my disability more than I ever did before: it's not that I like being disabled, but what's the point of wishing for something that won't ever be possible? I made friends with Pain, Disability is just another member of this odd social group of mine. Pain is the whining, whinging, screeching complainer of the group that never shuts the hell up; Disability is the pain in the arse who always needs accommodating. It is like the one who can't just order something off a menu, but insists on ingredients being omitted, others being added; food prepared in a certain and annoyingly exact way and sent back if it's not. Disability is the Sheldon of my group! I hate being that one, I hate drawing this type of attention. The only attention I want is for that which I worked hard, or for the fun and lighthearted things in life. I wish my disability was my secret: invisible, hidden - my own business, not for others to see. Because it is not, all I can do is shield myself behind brashness and laughs; deflecting my own deep shame and embarrassment, as well as unknowingly offensive comments from well-meaning people.

Validity rules for the new Games: Turning a corner...

Finally, an answer. But having my suspicions confirmed, did it make me feel any better? Did it make a difference at all? I can't say that it did, to be honest. I still had Pain, I still couldn't walk; I wasn't really any closer to a solution or a way to work around this new disability. Well, not so much a new one anymore. It was 2 years now I had mobility issues, since that day when it all fell apart. Being right and knowing the answers in this didn't really make a huge difference. Where to go from here?

I returned to the Netherlands once again, with a wheelchair posse of airport staff and the sad realisation that this is the reality of my travelling future. This was the future of being disabled. While it sounds quite confronting, it really wasn't as depressing as it sounds. I could still do things, I could still be mobile and live. A wheelchair, a walking crutch or stick, really what did it matter if I was still out there in life?

THE DISABLED CLOAK OF INVISIBILITY...

Finding my new identity. I was still me, surely, wasn't I? But how much of being out there in life was I really? I was stuck at home mostly. Every time I wanted to go out for simple things, like groceries or bread, it became such a huge undertaking that a simple trip would take me days if not a week, to recover from. God forbid if I forgot sonmething - if I forgot something and was downstairs, so sad too bad, there was no going back up! It was so difficult that even breaking a trip down into rest-break paused increments took so much effort; with the impossibility of the task soon becoming evident. I still did it occasionally, pushing myself to breaking point if only to get out of the house for a while.

One day I pushed so far that I came home, cried for hours and it took me nearly 3 weeks before I could even think of going out again. I was so sick of and so over always struggling, everything being so difficult, costing me so much energy that I just didn't have anymore. The unbelievable rudeness on public transport. By all means sit in that seat for disabled and old people if you want. But please, keep your eyes open for anyone who may need that seat. Don't wait to be asked to stand by someone else; because I can tell you that the very last thing I want to do is admit to anyone I need a seat for invalids! Frankly, you shouldn't need to be asked because one day, you could be that person who needs that seat. And don't pretend you can't see what is around you! Headphones don't make you invisible, neither does staring at your phone. Just being disabled is all you really need to become invisible...