When I was younger I used to blog all of the time. It was a great way for me to send my thoughts, ideas, secrets, whathaveyou, into the world for other people to hear. Most of the time I received feedback/support, and I befriended these people (in fact some of us still converse, even years later). Then sometimes, I didn't hear anything. It was like no one was listening.
At the time I was frustrated. How dare someone not care about what I have to say?! This may still be an issue for me, as I find myself still feeling this way at certain moments.
But looking back on my formative years, I wonder now, who would care about the ramblings of a moody, naive, antisocial teen girl?
But I wasn't just your average teen year, as much as I wanted to be.
I was a teen girl living with Cerebral Palsy.
Growing up I always struggled because I knew I straddled two worlds; I was disabled, and yet I wasn't. Anyone who knows me knows what I'm talking about:
Ok, fact: I use a wheelchair sometimes (long distances, crowded places, etc).
But I can walk, without the assistance of braces (though I could probably do with another pair, I haven't warn them since I was about 16), a walker, or crutches.
Ok, fact: I look a little funny when I walk, and I get winded easily (note to self: work on endurance, I should probably get back into physical therapy, too...)
Fact: I don't drive. It's not something I ever really picked up. Mostly out of fear due to my limitations. Now that I'm an adult, and married, working full time I realize it would probably come in handy, not to mention take some of the responsbility off of my husband (who does all the driving). But I'm still afraid. And I'm worried because more than likely I would need a vehicle that's slightly adapted for my needs, and the cost of that plus insurance is frightening to me.
But as I stated (facts): I work full time.
I am married (to an "able-bodied" man, who loves me "despite everything" -cringe-)
I went to school twice. I have a certification in Medical Office Assisting and a bachelor's of science in Health Care Management. I'm toying with the idea of a Master's degree, but this probably won't happen for quiet some time.
I do not fit any particular mold. I am neither one or the other. I am both.
And while I have to believe that people have the very best intentions, their hearts are in the right place, and all of that, I still shake my head when people will address my friends instead of me.
Case in point: I went to a basketball game recently with a friend of mine. We were meeting people.
The game was in the big city, and as you can imagine parking was damn near impossible, at least close by.
Another fact: I have handicapped license plate on my own car, I do not carry a "sticker" for the rear view mirror.
Where was the closest available lot? TWO BLOCKS AWAY.
Now, imagine a 26-year-old, out of shape, disabled-yet-not-disabled woman hobbling two blocks to a crowded venue. I had an armed escort, my friend who knows all of my "ins-and-outs" if you will.
We get to the venue and get through the doors and security checkpoint.
We show an usher our tickets and ask where our seats are.
The usher turns to MY FRIEND and addresses HER:
*points to me* "She'll probably want to use the elevator. They are right over that way."
Now, I give this guy credit for his power of observation. I'm huffing and puffing from over-exerting myself, and yes, my legs are a little bent at the knees. But I thought it was weird he addressed her and not me. Like I wasn't really there. Even though he offered her this information on my behalf. Strange.
And yeah, a little annoying.
No one is normal. I'm not going to put that definition on anyone because I think we all have our quirks. Mine are a little more apparent than others, albeit, but I'm still a person.
I'm just a girl, doing what I have to in order to live my life. I work to help support my family. I have drive, motivation, and ideas. I want to create something. I want to help shape the world around all of us. I'm trying to figure out how I can do that.
But getting out of bed and going to work every day does not make me an inspiration. I'm just doing a job, the same as anyone else.
But I have to understand that people don't understand me. I have to accept this and live with it. And when people commend me or compliment me, I smile and say thank you. And my only hope is that by being in their lives they can get to know me, and if I'm lucky they'll reach a point where they will understand.
And then maybe someone can spread the word like wild fire. That way, myself and my friends in similar situations can finally take a deep breath.
I bring this up because the same friend that went with me to that game shared a link she found she knew I would enjoy.
And Dear God, was she right!
http://thatcrazycrippledchick.blogspot.com/2014/01/explaining-inspiration-porn-to-non.html
The author of this blog and I have never spoken. We may never.
But if she should read this I want her know how much I appreciate her putting not just a blog post, but so much of herself, out there.
That is what I need to do again.
I need to write, and live my life, and be myself.
So kudos to you, Crazy Crippled Chick! And thank you for spreading the word about the rest of us square pegs trying to live within the round holes.
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