Coming to grips with having a disability has taken me many years. Unlike many who have had challenges from the start, the first forty-nine years of my life were spend living without a disability. In one respect, this has made accepting my new life more difficult. I have something to compare it to.
A few weeks ago, I shared with my wife Sarah that I am getting tired of pretending. I often go to superhuman lengths to “appear” uninjured, struggling to speak, using precious and limited energy to make sure that I walk a straight line when vertigo strikes, working hard to do all I can to show the world that I am as uninjured as I look.
Trying to be who I was and trying to not let my disabilities be noticed denies who and what I am. And that, kids, is a lot of work.
