I am disabled. I have spina bifida. I ambulate with crutches. I am also fiercely pro-choice, and in favor of the expansion of assisted suicide/euthanasia (is there even a difference?).
My life is something that is not for everyone. People look at me and want to look away, or they want to share with me how distraught they are over my disability. Or they want to proselytize (yes, I am a magnet for these types). The reactions are very, very hard to deal with. The assumption that with crutches, I must be intellectually impaired. This assumption invites a lot of baby talk towards me. A lot of "sweety" and "honey", but rarely "sir". Ironically (or maybe not), this has caused me to be quite lacking in social skills, to the point where I do have my moments coming across as intellectually disabled.
That said, I am fine that I was brought up in this world. My biological parents did their homework and decided that they'd be parents of someone with spina bifida. They devoted themselves to it, and sought out the support. The culture of SB, and of disability in general.
Raising a disabled person takes strenuous work. It is a different lifestyle than raising the star quarterback or the head cheerleader. I couldn't do it. Parenting seems hard, and even marriage does. It's just how things are now.
I don't really have much interest in climbing Mount Whitney or doing other things able-bodies take for granted. However, just plain discrimination does indeed affect my QOL. All that said, life is a unique era of our eternal journey: we can actually feel it. See it. Smell it. Hear it. When we die, all that goes out the window. I'd like to say I'll miss Earth, but...well...I'll unfortunately be dead.
My life is something that is not for everyone. People look at me and want to look away, or they want to share with me how distraught they are over my disability. Or they want to proselytize (yes, I am a magnet for these types). The reactions are very, very hard to deal with. The assumption that with crutches, I must be intellectually impaired. This assumption invites a lot of baby talk towards me. A lot of "sweety" and "honey", but rarely "sir". Ironically (or maybe not), this has caused me to be quite lacking in social skills, to the point where I do have my moments coming across as intellectually disabled.
That said, I am fine that I was brought up in this world. My biological parents did their homework and decided that they'd be parents of someone with spina bifida. They devoted themselves to it, and sought out the support. The culture of SB, and of disability in general.
Raising a disabled person takes strenuous work. It is a different lifestyle than raising the star quarterback or the head cheerleader. I couldn't do it. Parenting seems hard, and even marriage does. It's just how things are now.
I don't really have much interest in climbing Mount Whitney or doing other things able-bodies take for granted. However, just plain discrimination does indeed affect my QOL. All that said, life is a unique era of our eternal journey: we can actually feel it. See it. Smell it. Hear it. When we die, all that goes out the window. I'd like to say I'll miss Earth, but...well...I'll unfortunately be dead.
"For me, it is far better to grasp the Universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring." - Carl Sagan
