I really haven’t posted in a looong time. I’ve said this before, and then give up again! I think I felt like I didn’t have anything important to say or was just complaining a lot. I also haven’t travelled in so long, but I’ve realized that this blog is just a good outlet for me, and how much I miss putting my feelings/experiences into words. So I’m working on renaming this blog, as it’s no longer really about travelling with chronic illness/disability, but just about me in general.
But theres that word. Disability. The D word. It’s a word that used to scare me. When I was first diagnosed with MS, I feared what it meant. I lived in fear of the possibility of becoming disabled. I would rather stay at home alone and depressed then show the world that I was different than how I used to be. I think it was mostly out of fear of the judgment of others, which to be honest I still struggle with at times. I get a lot of weird looks, and the constant questioning of how I “hurt myself” gets tiring. I understand why people assume that, they don’t usually see someone in their (very late) 20’s using a mobility aid, a cane in my case, and they make assumptions about why I would need one. At time’s I think I should just come up with some kind of elaborate story on how I injured my leg mountain climbing, or doing some kind of trendy extreme sport, but then I remember that not everyone knows what Multiple Sclerosis is, and even if it’s small, I’m making a difference by sharing and explaining my MS to them. Maybe just once I’ll say it happened running away from an angry lion on my last African safari though….
I can remember when I first started using a cane, when I travelled to Italy with my family and my dad surprised me and brought a pretty one with a paisley design that I had been looking at online to help me on the trip (one I still use and love!) and I finally decided that it was true that I might need a bit of help. I think this was the start of me really accepting my diagnosis, and that oh so scary word, disability. I didn’t let anyone use that word to describe me, it felt so limiting. It felt like I was admitting defeat. I see it differently now, but it took time to get here. I’m a part of an online group for chronically ill/disabled people in my area and I hear people use the term so easily sometimes, to describe so many different things. Part of me is jealous of how just accepting the term ‘disability’ seems to come naturally to some people, but the other parts of me are really just happy to hear about it, and to be able to listen to other people’s struggles and have an open dialogue about my own! So many people are disabled in one way or another, it’s such a large spectrum, and I think I’m now actually okay with being on it. This is not something I asked for, or can control, this happened to me, like so many others. I think it’s more emotionally draining to ignore or deny that I am disabled, and just a few months shy of 5 years since my diagnosis, I think I’m finally okay with it.