It’s funny, really.
I was in university and I remember one of my roommates telling me that I must be so angry. That I must be so enraged at the world because of everything that had happened to me. He said I must be so angry because I’ve had to struggle to much.
I told him he was wrong.
I’ve always had to struggle with things. I can’t tie shoe laces properly and had to learn a cheaters way. I have immense trouble with buttons and they continue to be the bain of my existence; I can’t seem to get the buttons in the holes. Because of the Cerebral Palsy, my writing is really horrible as I was never able to develop better motor skills so I type almost everything. I have a lazy eye, a common side effect of CP, and look with only one eye at a time.
But I don’t let this bother me.
My mother thinks it’s because I’m stubborn; that I don’t want the world to see me getting down, to see me getting frustrated, so I just trudge on. She’s partly right.
Most of it has to do with the fact that I’ve lived with it for so long that it’s become second nature to me. It’s become part of who I am. But not all of who I am. Sometimes, when people look at me, they see a cripple, a disabled person, a freak.
I’d much rather they look at me and see ME, not what’s on the outside.
But none of this makes me angry; I told my roomate back in university that. How could I be angry when there was so much to live for? No, I couldn’t join any sport teams or play hockey (not that I really wanted to, but that’s our secret), no, I couldn’t do a lot of the things that others could do, but there is a lot I can do.
Why focus on the bad when there’s so much good in the world?