Today, the walls are closing in and I am alone. How long am I supposed to smile and act like everything is just great? Because the truth is, it is not. I am surrounded by friends who are in great shape, very active and happy. I have a husband, the same. Talking with those friends about things we did for the weekend is hard because I can not share exciting stories of places I went, things I did. And who wants to hear about the trials and joys associated with a wheelchair?! My life is so different from theirs. I cannot relate to them and they cannot relate to me. As a result, there are many friendships that never get the chance to blossom, to grow. They fall by the wayside and that is it. I want to scream out, “This is not ME!” But, the reality is that it is me. I have a priest friend who used to share with me intentions of people who were in dire need of prayers. I always appreciated those times I would get a text right when I needed it most … when I was down on the ground crawling and crying! Having that person to pray for somehow gave my struggles meaning. I also used to get a notebook from the church where people would share their intentions. Again, it was something that made me feel like somehow I had a purpose for my struggles. I have not gotten any such intentions for months. I am struggling more with each passing day. So where does that leave me? How do I move forward with anything? There is simply nothing I can do to change the reality. I listen as friends share that they are venturing out in new areas and trying new things. And all I could share was that I hope to play basketball with the kids when I get my new chair. See? Reality is just so different. I have nothing to offer. Nothing worthwhile anyway. I want to teach my kids to jump in and really live and embrace life. But what do they see when they look at me? A person who just sits, who needs help to walk up 2 steps and to walk 10 steps just to get to the table to sit down. I am falling short in everything. My kids deserve more. My husband deserves better. I am tired of being the one who can’t go there or do that because of my disability. I’m tired of being the “downer”, the blob that just sits there. I’m tired of being the reason we have to think of another alternative or a different way to do something, something that can accommodate the chair. It gets old and I am just tired of being that person. Yes, I’m envious of many of the people around me. I guess it is a good thing that there is a penance service tomorrow night. Perhaps I will get there….
A friend came to me in tears asking for prayers for her son who is going through very hard times. Praise God! Perhaps there really is some meaning….
(This was typed up Sunday, but not posted)