I've also been neglecting this blog...this month has just been filled with so many feelings...good, bad, ugly. I haven't felt like writing. I need to write more. Get all these darn thoughts out of my head!
This entry is about something that happened at the beginning of the month.
My church had a night meeting with the women of my congregation.
And I was asked to sing with 10 or so other women for the program. It was fun, but --
I'm just so different from the others. Not only was I not married. I have no kids. And I'm in a wheelchair. None of them are related -- well, maybe marriage and kids, but my chair isn't related to my marriage status...my health on the other hand....it's hard to find a husband in the nursing home...strike that....it's hard to find the husband I want at the nursing home...
i don' t know...sometimes, I just feel like the token.
Why do I have to feel like I'm representing a group and not just me?
Historically public assistance in exchange for enforced poverty and the absence of freedom is a bad deal, one that fails all parties to the arrangement, people with disabilities, their families, and the American people. --2004 report to pres. about intellectual disabilities(I argue physical disabilities as well)
Been busy trying to catch up on life..my email inbox backup is almost gone. I've been able to write people and watch various webcasts. That's where the quote above came from.
It just reminds me of how horrible living here makes me. How trapped I feel. How baby-sat I feel. I have so much life to be lived. I feel prematurely put out to pasture.
I know it's been awhile. This blog is always on my mind. I have tons of links annd stuff to post, but it's been a challenge to unjumble my thoughts and jusy sit down and write.
Moving and all the compromise and changes that go with it have been hard. The peeing thing is still a problem. I'm going to talk to my neurologist next week and get his opinion about living on my own. And about going back to PT Elite
I wish my family supported me more in my quest to be independent, but I'm going to do it anyway.
Disabled and looking for a job? That is not yet me, but I've seen a lot of TV ads for Think Beyon the Label and this campaign could help disabled people get hired.
Too bad the economy sucks right now, and even able-bodied people can't get work.
I think I might talk to the ombudsmen. I now have a Sunday bedtime, feel like 6 o'clock is too late to ever go see a friend or have someone visit. My home teachers came by Sunday at 6 pm, and man, did my caregiver freak about how late it was. They left at a quarter to 7. That was late? Obiously, there's a communication problem I don't know, but I resent my restricted hoours.
I have never felt desirable with the chair. I don't feel worthy of love sometimes.
My dad told me recently that no one would give up their entire life for me.
I guess I am -- to society, but I refuse to believe I'm not worth anybody's sacrifice. Everybody in a relationship gives and recieves sacrifices. Why am I not worthy?
"Disabled sexuality is virtually erased in our society. People with
disabilities are, at best, considered nonsexual, entirely lacking in
sexual identity. At worst, we are seen as perverts merely for having
sexual desires. And we are, above all, undesirable.
The aesthetic of my power chair reflects this–why bother make something
sexy when the person using it isn’t going to be having sex?"