#pots disease
We re-blog and like, but we don’t often create. Why? Because we are trained to believe we have nothing to say.
The heroes of our stories do things. Disabled heroes cannot do. How are we then to be the heroes of our own stories? How can we see our journey as our own? If our stories don’t feel like our own, then they don’t feel real. If they aren’t real, then there is no consequence. If no consequence, there is no investment. Is that also true of how we think about our lives?
It is a challenge to write the truth of being disabled and remain entertaining enough to engage a readership. There are few adventures. There are no pictures of exotic locations or exciting venues, no travel. There is no visible external growth. The difficulty comes with showing the internal growth one learns from being forced to—essentially—pause life. A series of snapshots of fear, and pills, and pain, repeated daily until it becomes a blur. It would be easy to paint this as stagnation. But this isn’t the full truth. I am not romanticizing chronic illness. The ill know it is not romantic. But I am admitting value—intrinsic, actual value—in the lives of those who are unable to participate in capitalism and all that comes with it. This may seem obvious, but it needs to be said. Our self-esteem has often been forgotten entirely.
There is a place for us. As thinkers and creators of our life experience, yes, but also as sovereign people—individual consciousness’s—that have value in existing. That have the right to exist as much as anyone else. We are whole, and we grow as anyone grows—at our own pace, based on our experience. I hope we are able to make our voices heard, not just as advocates, but as human beings.
You have value. Your thoughts and experiences matter. Youare the hero of your story; you arestill and always the agent of your life.
Never feel guilt in reclaiming that.
1) Salt.
2) Water.
Repeat.
