I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Well, actually a lot of things. I kind-of wish that I had a limp or a chair because as I grapple with "what does it mean to be disabled" it would cut down on the confusion for other people. Even though I don't "feel" disabled, and I don't want to be treated any differently... I'm slowly having to admit to myself that I am and incorporate that idea into my own identity, thoughts, and self-concept. It's a really hard thing to admit to myself and deal with, partially because I don't feel it. I know I'm not missing a limb or in a wheelchair, but I am cognitively disabled now, and I have to accept that for myself and my own "self-concept"- which is really hard and difficult because on the outset, because I don't look or act any different. I think being back in classes and my routine "pre-stroke" gives me those expectations to "perform" like I did before my accident. The stroke did take away part of my brain, my reaction time, I get more confused, distracted and disoriented easily, and just everything in life is harder now. Even saying that "out-loud" is hard for me to admit.
Another thing is that being in person- or even carrying on a phone conversation is hard for me now. Text and email don't take as much energy- but can also be mis-interpreted easily. It's two-fold and a trade off depending on how I feel and what I'm trying to communicate. I interviewed a friend (Sheri) for a class a week ago that had a stoke in 2004, and I asked her what she wished that other people could understand about TBI's (Traumatic Brain Injuries)- and she said she tries not to dwell on the things she can't do any longer- because if she was going to forget something, it probably wasn't very important anyway or she could just blame it on age. I think for me, I would want people to know just how much effort everything takes me- not that I want their pity, but just that "doing life" is now a chore. Every day takes A LOT of energy, and doing the things I used to do no longer energize me. Even spelling, reading, writing- everything for school just takes more time now and I don't know how else to explain it. A girl at the Seminary said it great today- even coming back and finishing my masters' degree is a huge accomplishment, and one that not many people will go for, let alone within 6 months after their brain explodes. So there are a lot of things that are on-hold right now and I'm having to adjust to being OK with that fact.
One more thing that came to mind recently- and isn't anybody's fault- but I haven't really had a consistent person with me through all of this. I had Shauna, Tara, and my Mom while I was in the hospital, my family over the summer, the Swanson's this fall, and now it's mainly the Downing House. There hasn't been a consistent "person"- and again, not anyone's fault and I'm not pointing fingers, but that might have made things feel "less rocky" during transitions. I think the Lord is having me learn to trust and rely on Him instead of a "person" because a person here is more tangible and comforting in the moment- and apparently that's not what He wants in this season. What are you trying to teach me then? Am I that dense that the only way you could get my attention was to get me in the hospital for 4 months, take away all of my independence, and ever so slowly give it to me back? What am I supposed to be learning for this? Maybe I'll never know, and that needs to be OK.
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