Since I'm still in a Disability Empowered mood, held over from last night's entry, I think now is the perfect time to share a poem Emma found on the Internet. She has it on her own journal and I could very well link to it, sending you there, but I want it for my own journal as well. As with Emma, it sums up and describes my feelings towards my own disability--on most days--perfectly.
Challenged
Some say I am disabled,
But you know that isn't true.
I simply have a challenge
A little different from you.My slight inconvenience has taught me
Things they could not know.
Each obstacle is a victory,
Enabling me to grow.I'm not really any different,
I cry, I laugh, I snore.
I don't want to be treated
As if I'm not a person anymore.Out of good intentions,
People are afraid to let me try.
But sometimes I have to fall,
And sometimes I need to cry.God gives me strength and dignity,
And the courage to be all I can be.
For He doesn't see me as disabled,
He just sees me as me.Leslie W. Ortega
I've written 11 entries focusing on my C.P. or on things related to it in the nearly four years I've had this journal, and up until today, I've just let them fade into the past and blend in with the myriad archives I've built up over the years. I wasn't intentionally trying to ignore this part of me in my writing, yet I was--I have been, in a way--ignoring it. It's not because I'm ashamed of it; it's just out of old habit and an equally old mindset or child's desire to be as "normal" as I can be to those who can walk that I don't, or haven't, pointed out or made much ado over the fact I am physically challenged.
I'm not going to ignore my disability here anymore, but neither am I going to loudly point it out or make much ado over it. No, I will continue to express myself as I have in previous entries like yesterday's, but I will be visual about. Looking right, to the navigation panel, you will see a new category: Voice On Disabilities. From now on, for easier and more visual access, all the essays or entries on this subject will be found here.
I talk a good talk, and sometimes I follow through with what I say I need to or should do. This is something that's important enough it needs to be followed up on, and this is a start I think. I talk a lot on self-awareness or discovery and accepting and liking oneself. How can one do this if one doesn't acknowledge an important facet of oneself, like a disability or physical challenge? One can't. One can't get to know oneself completely if one forgets or ignores an integral facet that's a part of one's life. As C.P. is a part of mine.
*small quiet, teary laugh* You could say this is my Coming Out Day. I've come out of obscurity, out of hiding. In a small, unannounced moment, with no fanfare or prior warning, I've let go of an old habit, an equally old mindset or child's desire to be as "normal" as I can be to those who can walk. I embrace now--perhaps a bit shyly and awkwardly yet--the facet that's always been a part of me in this mortal life in a step closer to understanding and knowing myself as someone who's worth having in others' lives. In a step closer to being at peace with myself.
Which I think is where the author of the above poem is at. She, or he, is at peace with her or his lot in life. The poet makes no pithy remarks indicating an opinion of being special because she or he is different, or soliciting a pity party in her or his honor. No, she or he simply states she or he is the same as everyone else. The poet just has a different challenge than others is all.
I can't remember who said that same thing to me. Actually, it was, "We all have disabilities, just some of us have visible, physical ones while others' are hidden." Just said differently, but the meaning is the same. And that's how I feel. I have a different challenge than others who have hidden ones. I am no different; we really are the same. We all have our individual challenges, we all cry, we all laugh, we all snore. Just because my challenge is seen, why should I be avoided, treated as if I'm a nonperson? There is no reason I should be.
*soft chuckle* I've done it again. I've gone on and on, becoming long-winded the more I typed. *shrugs* I guess I had a lot to say.
moon phase |