Apologies, this is going to be a long one.
A few years ago, I told a very good friend that I really didn't care what people thought about me. She looked at me a moment and corrected me by saying I care what people
I care about think about me. I realized she was right, and I have given that a lot of thought. Over time, I have come to realize people's opinions of me don't matter, but I do care about how I am perceived.
My mother raised me to be very independent. I have made peace with my limitations and am not touchy about being disabled. It is what it is, I live with it every day, and honestly, my life is pretty easy. I have people tell me it's touching to see what I struggle I have to deal with every day, and really, I have to laugh. My life really isn't a struggle at all. Thanks to my rehabilitation, a living hell though it was, I can take care of myself. That said, I am very thankful I was injured as a child. Really, this is all I know. Everything I do and how I do it, I have done it as a paraplegic: school, driving, dating, college, marriage, you name it. I have nothing to compare all this to. I didn't have relearn anything. I just had to learn how to adapt to doing a few things different, namely getting dressed (seriously, try putting on pants without picking up your legs) and transferring from my wheelchair to point B. Anyway, back to point of this blog.
As I have mentioned before, I value my independence and I don't want to appear helpless, or treated as such, for that matter. I am a very hands-off person and have issues with personal space. Mainly, I can't stand people using my wheelchair as an object, not as an extension of my person. For example, back at Christmas, I had someone I barely know put their scarf on my push handle. Uh, no. I am not a coat rack. I've had people behind me in lines at stores lean up against me. Uh, no. You must have mistaken me for someone else. However, with my friends, anything goes. Lean, prop, hang, poke, whatever you want. Case in point today, a friend made the comment I hear a lot, "Lindsay brought her own chair," to which I laughed, of course, and said, "Not everyone can get away with that one (wink wink)." I probably should have explained why I said that but, meh, another time, another place. A complete stranger would have definitely gotten the fake laugh and the "Lindsay is not amused," look.* People who know me well know that I don't take myself seriously. But corny platitudes from people I don't know just chafe my tush.
Don't misunderstand me. I know most people are well-intentioned. I don't think the average Joe trots along in life trying to offend people like me. I just think sometimes people don't think. Most people who don't know me are uncomfortable around me at first, especially if they don't have anyone in their close circle who is disabled. That's just life. Most folks are ill-at-ease around things that are unfamiliar.
Dang, I'm getting sidetracked. I care about how I'm perceived. I'm writing like an angst-y teenager.
I don't want to people to presume I'm sick and helpless. I probably come across like I'm trying too hard, trying to be something I'm not, but this is a real thing for me. Sorry to go to list form, but it's how how I roll (no comment, please!):
-I drive a car, not a van. When I was a child, we had a van with a lift. When I became a teenager, my physical therapist taught me how to do a wheelchair-to-car transfer without a transfer board. I hated her with every fiber of my being for this, and so did my sore rear end, but today I could not thank her enough. I have driven a car since I was 15 and will continue to do so as long my shoulders will allow me.
-I have a manual wheelchair, not a power one. This was not a choice given to me. My surgeon who took care of me from the time I was injured until I was 18 absolutely forbade me to have a power chair. He knew I was capable of using a manual chair with no issues and it would have crippled me more to have had one. Again, someday I will have to have one because I will have completely worn out my shoulders, but that day is not today, and it won't be tomorrow.
-I cross my legs, which people have told me mystifies them. Honestly, I don't do it to look "normal" or anything. I do it because it's comfortable. Same reason everyone else does it, right? I ask because I don't know!!! :-) I also do it because I feel it makes me look less like the elephant in the room.
-I know this is a total pride thing, but I rarely ask for help. Man's first instinct most of the time is to offer a hand, I do it myself. But I'm more likely to ask for help than to accept help when offered, if that makes any sense. I'm not offended when people offer, but it does annoy me when people take things over from me. I've actually had people approach me as I'm putting my wheelchair in my car, offer to help and then take my chair away from me. Um, that's not exactly helpful, you know? This is what I mean about caring how I come across, how I'm perceived. I'm not helpless and don't want to be seen that way.
I guess this mindless ranting goes back to my diatribe about being treated like an adult. I am in my mid-thirties and my hair is gray, for goodness sake. I think I'm well within my rights to be concerned about how I'm perceived, you know? All that said, I don't want to be unapproachable, either. I don't know. I guess that deep down I feel I have a lot to prove, when I know that I don't.
I admit I take a little while to warm up to people. I'm a very chatty, outgoing person, but I really have to know my audience well before I let all of the crazy out.
If you made it through all this, please treat yourself to something. You've earned it! Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts.
Note:
*My "Lindsay is not amused look," is not far off from this, just with my right eyebrow raised:
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