Drawing From Life - When Reality Brings You Crashing Back to Earth

 

Recently I had a rather loud and unexpected reminder from life, that I am physically not the same person I was 10 years ago. I'm not saying that old age is catching up to me, although it does give me the occasional reminders that many of us experience (like your body sounding like a bowl of Rice Krispies when you get up in the morning). No, the incident I'm talking about was a very loud and frightening reminder to me that I am disabled.

Now when I say it was frightening, I am mainly talking about everyone else around me. In my case it came more as a shock and a nasty surprise. You see, I was seated and began leaning over to grab something that was off to my side and slightly behind me when the wooden chair (well it was actually a wooden bench we have in the dining area) I was on tipped over. And yes, I went down with it. LUCKILY, I had enough presence of mind to stretch out my hands and arms at shoulder height to break most of my fall. I didn't even wind up slamming into the bench after it crashed very loudly against the hardwood floor. It was this sound that really scared everybody. But at first, they all thought I had slammed into it on my way down. However, by keeping my hands and arms stretched out I managed to arch myself (not very comfortably mind you), but enough to not have my body come down on top of the side of the bench which was inches away from me. 

I remained in this awkward "Downward Dog" yoga position for several seconds, reassuring everyone that I was fine and not hurt. However, I could not get myself right myself at that point. I had no leverage. Realizing this, I slowly lowered myself on top of the bench so I could then reposition my hands and then proceeded to get up with the help of my wife and her brother.

Sadly, this incident is only the latest I'd experienced. For a couple of weeks, my symptoms have been getting worse. Pain levels in my hips, low back, as well as in my knees and lower legs have all been growing worse. I find myself reaching for the nearest wall to maintain my balance more and more frequently.

It's gotten to the point that I'm considering getting a 2nd wheelchair specifically for me to use indoors, like this model.

Relying more often on a wheelchair of any kind has always been a bit of an Achilles heel for me. Be it ego, or simply, I'm not ready mentally/emotionally for it. As I've probably said many time before in this blog I always expected to be needing a wheelchair or mobile assistance device well into my late 80's or 90's. 

I've always been so active for most of my life, I swear I walked for miles even when I was in my early teens. I was part of the jogging club back in high school (since we didn't have a track team at the time I attended, unfortunately). 

Okay, maybe I wasn't that fast, but I did enjoy it. Plus, I just enjoyed being out and about. I kept it up well into my 20s and 30s. My wife and I loved to wander all over trails in the woods, go to parks, or walking around period. I also used to love roller skating, even with the occasional falls. You name it. I was even taking ballroom dance classes and other dance classes with Helen when we both went back to college in 2010.

I don't know if it's just ego, or feeling like I've had something taken from me some days, that I get so reluctant (I don't want to say resentful... because resentment is too easy a pit to fall into and hard to get out, so I try to avoid that trap) to accept I have limitations much earlier in my life than I had expected. When I do feel myself heading towards those dark places, I console myself by remembering that I actually did all those things for a long time. And then I think back to how it felt when I was skating, dancing, walking, running, etc. and say to myself, "I DID those things. They didn't wind up on a list of 'if only I'd tried such and such' regrets." Believe it or not, it helps me. I still miss them of course. But I did do them, and that's what counts.

But it's not only the recent fall and having troubles getting around that's got me thinking more about my situation. After nearly 3 years of struggling and fighting for it, I have a hearing coming up in June before a judge in order to try and finally get Social Security Disability. Now, in order to prepare myself for this hearing, I have to go over all those things I can no longer do, think about my pain and discomfort, and go through a number of dark memories and uncomfortable feelings. I've also needed to have family and friends write up what they've observed about what's happened to me in letters that will be presented to the judge as part of my case. And looking over what they've written, which is seriously necessary to help one's case in going before a judge to get disability, can be an uncomfortable reminder, as well as an eye opener for me. In one case, they'd mentioned depression and how for some time I wasn't shaving as often or even focusing on my appearance at home and whatnot. And they were right. I had gone that route without even realizing it. I've since turned that around and it does help my mood, even if the extra effort can be awkward and taxing some days. But on the other hand, it does feel good and give me a sense of victory which is a plus. 

And that's kind of what I aim for each day. Even small victories help me keep my spirits up and make me want to try and do a few more (no matter how little) things whenever my body and energies permit it. And I'm going to need all of that in the next couple of months. Trying to get ready for that hearing is going to take me down some dark roads some days and will tax what energies I have to spare. 

I don't know how much writing or recording I'll be doing in the next 3 months, but I will try. And I'll also be making notes along the way. This whole experience, drifting into disability and the thoughts and emotions that come with the changes in your life it brings, are a wealth of material for writing. Luckily, I already created Cassandra Elliott, who I established a while back, has been diagnosed with Epstein-Barr Syndrome. In reality, the truth of what's been happening to her all these years, is much darker and she will have to deal with more difficulties and changes to her life in the upcoming books regarding "THE DOOR" and her family's dark legacy. And I plan on drawing upon all that I've been experiencing to help flesh out her journey. Luckily, like me, she has a great support group of loved ones, including a significant other who is more than ready to stick by her throughout what is to come.

And there you have another ray of light my friends. Becoming disabled isn't a lot of fun, but even in the dark times, you can find those beacons of hope, kindness, and achievement. You just have to be willing to pursue them and turn them into something new and wonderful. Don't let the darkness become your prison. 

That's all for now. Take care and be good to yourselves, every one of you. And keep writing and creating my friends.