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On Processing

Thirty-six hours and I still haven't cried, yet that's all I want to do. I guess two falls in three weeks will do that to a girl who is terrified of doing the littlest things while alone. I suppose this is my way to process the emotions I cannot verbalize.

It is during these times that I become furious and very easily frustrated. Tonight, I debated whether or not to take my shower before I went to bed or in the morning- at this point I don't feel comfortable doing either one for fear of what could happen. And honestly, I simply do not have the emotional or physical energy to want to try. More so than ever before, I am fearful of living on my own. It tires me out more than I care to admit and is a constant reminder of the limitations I have. I don't know why, but I would much rather struggle on the floor for hours rather than ask someone for help. I guess maybe it's the embarrassment I feel coupled with the fact that I don't want to be a bother. But these two things alone are bound to be the death of me- I'm not sure how much more I can take. Maybe some of it has to do with the way I was raised, I  don't know- it's beyond frustrating, though. Falling is a constant reminder of my disability, a reminder that so much goes into every decision that I make.

Sometimes I wish for one day I could experience life disability-free. One day. But then, not long after the thought crosses my mind, I realize I probably wouldn't be as happy. I'm almost sure that I wouldn't have the friends I do and have the appreciation I do for the little things- the text messages, laughs, phone calls, and shared moments- I wouldn't trade any of those for the ability to walk on any day- even the worst of the worst. More than once in my life, I've been told that I'm too sensitive. I wonder, would I be as sensitive if I was able-bodied? Yes, I'm sensitive, but I tend to think of it as a positive attribute. Being sensitive has allowed me the opportunity to appreciate the little things and reflect on the events that take place in my life- change, tragedy, etc.

At the end of the day, I'm still terrified and frustrated. The carpet burns, bruises, and aches are a constant reminder that like it or not, cerebral palsy will always be a part of my life. I have no answers and there are no easy fixes. Falling will always be a risk and getting up will always be difficult- even as I continue to improve my upper body strength. Living alone will never be my preference, but I'll press on because it's what I do- I will never give up without a fight.

I'm thankful  that God has given me this ability to write- although the tears have not come, I'm processing it all- a step in the right direction, I think.

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