Monday, August 2, 2010

Defeated

Alright, so I've decided that my arthritis is probably going to get way worse in the fall. I'll be working two jobs again, and going to graduate school, so I'm pretty sure there will be enough stress for Arthur to pipe in and be more of a jerk than usual.

I gave in today and started to look at obtaining a handicapped parking permit... I guess 'gave in' implies that there's something wrong with doing that, and there shouldn't be. But I'm still struggling with how I mentally feel like I can do anything and everything better than other people, and how my body actually handles tasks. It makes me feel kind of defeated, like the disease has taken away my will to outlast it on Survivor. In reality, this should be a good thing, right? I'm coming to terms with the fact that I do have what is considered a lifelong disability. That may not mean I'm full on disabled right now, but it's definitely a possibility in the future.

I can't keep going on pretending that nothing is going to be worse, that I'm just a normal person, or that I don't need the help that this permit can give me.

I wish I knew what it was like to just be a normal person - to get up every morning without the stiffness and pain... to be able to go running every single day... fuck, to even go to the grocery store and walk around without limping, resting on a cart, looking at the poor people confined to wheelchairs and fearing with every fiber in my being that will be in six months/one year/ten years/ever. I don't want to use a walker by the time I'm 25. I want to have kids who don't go through this, who can play with their mom and dad together, instead of just playing with dad while mom sleeps for hours on the couch because of fatigue.

AAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!!!!!

When I was eight and didn't know any better, it didn't matter. I didn't have to pay bills, or do that much homework (yay homeschooling), or even be awake 'normal' times of the day. My arthritis wasn't even as bad, at least in memory. Now every little thing has changed. I want to be normal, but I know that I won't ever be. And, at 22 years old, I'm having a little bit of a hard time handling that finally.

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