On Dropping Stuff

When I get angry either at my disability or just about having one in general, I feel two things: 1) The need to vocalize anything and everything I’ve been angry about for the last 3-6 months, and 2) The need to angry tweet at someone. Usually it’s Donald Trump cause he’s almost always done something asinine and ignorant to warrant being angry but sometimes it’s a company or some anti-disability moron (yes my friends, people like that do exist on the social medias).

I try really hard not to take my anger with myself or my disability out on other people. It’s not their fault. Thus, if I do feel the need to redirect some anger, I try to find someone who at least deserves it. I know, my calm, Buddhist approach to anger is overwhelming isn’t it? I know there has to be a healthier way to direct my frustration.

I’ve been dropping stuff what seems like non-stop lately. For most people, this isn’t a big deal or is just a normal part of life. But for me, bending over to pick something up (because I can’t squat) is both difficult and painful. Just like the twisting I have to do to get off of the couch or a chair, it’s bad for my back. The fact that I was born with a disability is enough on its own, but then to have to further aggravate my body because of said disability in order to just get up or to do something simple like pick something off of the floor, really pisses me off.

I know I’m not supposed to say that. I’m not supposed to say that being born with a disability is annoying. I’m supposed to say something like I was given this disability for a reason, or I’m a better person because I have it. But I’m gonna be real honest folks, there’s many times when I feel 100% like that’s a bunch of bullshit (today obviously being one of those days). It’s a random circumstance I was born with with no rhyme or reason and it’s something I just have to deal with, whether I like it or not. I’m not supposed to say that it feels like it’s a punishment either, even though it certainly feels like that sometimes.

I just want one day where I don’t drop anything, just one. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask for. Why are there so many stupid, awful people out there who don’t have to deal with something like this, yet I do? I’m not Mother Theresa but I try really hard to be kind to my fellow man, to think about other people, to be empathetic. This is where people would tell me I feel that way because of my being born with disability which I’m sure is probably true. There’s no use crying over spilled milk (milk is actually one thing I haven’t dropped on the floor in the past month. Eggs however are another story). I can’t change my circumstances but boy can I be pissed off about them sometimes, and I think that’s totally fair…for all of us dealing with this stuff.

I’m not going to vent about everything else I’m pissed off about. Some of it would just lead to stupid comments that I don’t feel like dealing. But I do feel better getting all of this off my chest at least. Blogging for me is first and foremost about trying to bring awareness and hoping that my ramblings resonate with other people even in the slightest way, but I forget sometimes that it’s also therapeutic for me.

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3 thoughts on “On Dropping Stuff

  1. Our MD paths aren’t similar, mine being completely on the outside as you know, but I completely agree with you in this: MD (or any disease, condition, etc. I suppose) isn’t meant to make you into a martyr–you weren’t “gifted” with a disease because you’re special inside so you can handle better the physical aspect of it than someone who maybe isn’t as decent a human as you are. MD sucks. No one picks it. You can vent about it because that’s necessary, and venting provides balance. My son drops stuff all the time, and he’s so annoyed by it. He’s not sophisticated enough to vent, but his frustration is real, and I hope that when he does understand the value of venting it, he has a forum to do this. Keep at it, Jackie–the more people that read, the more empathy and kindness that may develop.

  2. It’s amazing how reading your posts is like someone writing my life, my thoughts and feelings, yet they didn’t.. there is just another person like me. Someone whom I can relate, someone who really does know what this feels like.

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