So having health problems that limit your ability to do everything from walk to read really proposes some interesting quandaries. Learning my limitations has been a painful process of going to far and making note where that is, rinse and repeat. There is also a unique psychological element involved as well.
Having to come to terms with a disability that changes my lifestyle at the age of 34 is difficult. I still feel the rest of my life is before me except now I am not sure what I can do with it. I have the desire to work and be normal as I was once, but I know that cannot come easily if ever. It will take time and the progression of this disease must halt or slow at the very least first.
I left the house the other day to perform some much needed tasks outside that I had put off for months. Bills, replacing things, stuff that people take for granted. The trip was very enlightening because in the end I pushed myself way to far and spent the next 2 days paying for it. Though seeing the light of day for the first time in months, and being outside for the first time in months as well was so nice. The simple joy of feeling sun on your face and breathing fresh air is something many people take for granted.
After this trip I’ve found myself hating being stuck in my home again. Its hard to get out of my sub basement apartment. The stairs are few but they take much out of me. Just to have an apartment with a porch to sit on outside would do so many wonders for me. I long for something as that. To be able to sit outside and just take in the beauty of simply being outside. Simply feeling the sun on your face and the wind flowing through your hair carrying on it the scent of freedom.
One thing I’ve struggled with now is knowing how to think of myself. Am I disabled, am I less then human? Am I allowed to enjoy life or somehow because I have this disease am I supposed to be locked up in my home away from people? I can’t work like I used to pride myself on, supporting my family, paying my debts, not needed others help. This in itself produces a conflict within myself that tells me somehow I’m less then human and must pity myself. Though Who I am hasn’t changed. I am Tim, the Same Tim I’ve been for years, but do others see me as that? Or am I just a disability to them now. Has this disease changed the way people see me? I desire no special concern in this from anyone. I’m the same person but more and more I see pity in the eyes of those who know me. Not that I want it or even deserve it.