Here's something you might be interested in.
Friday May 13th, 2011, I wake up stiff and sore, grinding my jaws in pain. I medicate and I get to work.
I slept in this morning, not getting up until 9 A.M. I am surprised by this; I normally get up at 6 A.M., at least now that my body is regulated to a daytime schedule.
I have finally found what is normal for me. I no longer beat myself up when I do not live up to the expectations of the outside world. Coming to terms with Disability, is difficult but doable, at least right now. I tend to be a glass half empty kind of gal.
In fact, I have found purpose, and I have found validation, in the strangest place, my tax return. Yes, I am disabled, but I still file a tax return. Why? Because in my disabled status, I have found opportunity. I love writing, drawing, and the pursuit of knowledge. Now that my body is past the age of being capable of withstanding the rough and tumble profession of horse shoeing, riding, and barn work, I still have my mind. Zoloft is to be credited with that.
I am properly medicated. That brings me to the missing List. I rode my mobility scooter down to the Thrift Korral at 8693 La Mesa Blvd. to scout out books that I can resell on the Internet.
I get there, take my book list in hand and begin to read book titles. It is Lucky Friday the 13th Day and I am invited to roll the oversize dice onto the felt overlay, of a Craps table graphic.
I am excited. I love to gamble. I smile; I take the dice and roll for a three dollar off coupon, or a home baked chocolate chip cookie as a consolation prize. It is a win/win situation.
I roll a three and a two. I am invited to claim a cookie. I do not eat sugar, or wheat, so I leave the cookie for those who do.
I look for my List. I cannot find it. I ask if anyone has seen it. I am invited to turn out my pockets, and I do so. Then I am invited to re-trace my steps. I do. No List. I am baffled. No one saw the List except me.
I decide to continue looking at the books and pick things that interest me, and hope that I choose wisely.
I did make a couple of good choices in the resell department. The value of getting out and having a purpose, being part of my community, priceless. The I.R.S. is validating my participation in our economy. I know in the over all scheme of things, I am a speck of dust, but that does not diminish my power.
Look at our human genome as an example, the smallest change in a strand of DNA separates us from a chimpanzee.
Over a decade ago, I cared for disabled clients, and the one thing they all had in common, besides being disabled, was that they gave up.
I was having my own difficulties at the time and was encouraged to apply for disability. I could not do it. I thought that if I ever got to the point of relying on a government check every month that I might as well give up. I realize now that being disabled means I have to adapt. I have to find my value. I have to believe in my value. I have to help myself.
I’m still looking for that List.
Friday May 13th, 2011, I wake up stiff and sore, grinding my jaws in pain. I medicate and I get to work.
I slept in this morning, not getting up until 9 A.M. I am surprised by this; I normally get up at 6 A.M., at least now that my body is regulated to a daytime schedule.
I have finally found what is normal for me. I no longer beat myself up when I do not live up to the expectations of the outside world. Coming to terms with Disability, is difficult but doable, at least right now. I tend to be a glass half empty kind of gal.
In fact, I have found purpose, and I have found validation, in the strangest place, my tax return. Yes, I am disabled, but I still file a tax return. Why? Because in my disabled status, I have found opportunity. I love writing, drawing, and the pursuit of knowledge. Now that my body is past the age of being capable of withstanding the rough and tumble profession of horse shoeing, riding, and barn work, I still have my mind. Zoloft is to be credited with that.
I am properly medicated. That brings me to the missing List. I rode my mobility scooter down to the Thrift Korral at 8693 La Mesa Blvd. to scout out books that I can resell on the Internet.
I get there, take my book list in hand and begin to read book titles. It is Lucky Friday the 13th Day and I am invited to roll the oversize dice onto the felt overlay, of a Craps table graphic.
I am excited. I love to gamble. I smile; I take the dice and roll for a three dollar off coupon, or a home baked chocolate chip cookie as a consolation prize. It is a win/win situation.
I roll a three and a two. I am invited to claim a cookie. I do not eat sugar, or wheat, so I leave the cookie for those who do.
I look for my List. I cannot find it. I ask if anyone has seen it. I am invited to turn out my pockets, and I do so. Then I am invited to re-trace my steps. I do. No List. I am baffled. No one saw the List except me.
I decide to continue looking at the books and pick things that interest me, and hope that I choose wisely.
I did make a couple of good choices in the resell department. The value of getting out and having a purpose, being part of my community, priceless. The I.R.S. is validating my participation in our economy. I know in the over all scheme of things, I am a speck of dust, but that does not diminish my power.
Look at our human genome as an example, the smallest change in a strand of DNA separates us from a chimpanzee.
Over a decade ago, I cared for disabled clients, and the one thing they all had in common, besides being disabled, was that they gave up.
I was having my own difficulties at the time and was encouraged to apply for disability. I could not do it. I thought that if I ever got to the point of relying on a government check every month that I might as well give up. I realize now that being disabled means I have to adapt. I have to find my value. I have to believe in my value. I have to help myself.
I’m still looking for that List.