I will turn into a wheely snowbird

The sun today baked me into more cheerfulness and mobility. I walked and sat up a lot more. I helped a little with cleaning the hot tub (which Zond-7’s nephew Monkey MindWind did very nicely!) and I did some excellent Discardia in the kitchen with Minnie.

It was awful yesterday to realize that I had not left the house or gotten up from bed really except to take Moomin to school and pick him up. Yesterday was a low point as I could barely walk at all. I was back in the wheelchair in the house. I had some emotions around that. I felt slow, creaky, painful, weepy, spaced-out, and got into a mindset where all I could think of to do was to escape as hard as I could into thinking, reading, writing, getting out of my body. I think it was stress, and exhaustion, but mostly it was the cold, rainy weather coming back this weekend and persisting all week. Hands, toes, knees, back, and my terribly painful leg-on-fire. I laid in bed trying not to cry, and finally took some Vicodin. I can’t cope with doing all the things Moomin expects, like sitting next to him while he has his bath. (Cold, wet, stiff, bending over, unable to pay attention). But, we have both been enjoying spending extra time instead, lying in bed reading and talking about all sorts of things.

Today it was warm again, and I expanded in the sun, uncoiling myself from bed, extending in all directions… Ungrumpified.

I feel intensely grateful that I have my marvellous chair, that it is so light and small and wonderful.

This might seem odd, but I cried when I saw this:

After thinking about it for a while, I realized what it was I was feeling. I thought of my early days of Usenet and of the philosophy that “on the Internet, no one knows you’re a dog.” People would say things (and in fact, I recall writing things) about how great it was that women could hide that they were women, so that they could get treated without prejudice; it “leveled the playing field”. Oh, joy, we can all just pretend to be men – what a great solution! (Not.) And I certainly have read people saying how great it is that on the internet you don’t have to show that you are disabled. Fine… if that is what you feel like doing. But, on both counts, what I feel is a strong current of wanting to Be Myself, perhaps also an odd thing for someone writing under a (tissue-thin) veil of pseudonymity. As I cried looking at the picture of the GimpGirl community women in Second Life, I realized what I felt was pride, the sort of pride I felt at Gay Pride Parades; I was proud and filled with love for the women with the wheely avatars and the ones with white-tip canes, and the way they presented, at their self-expression. I know that most able bodied people imagine that given half a chance to present as “normal” or able like them, we would all jump at it. And they would not understand that it is just part of our concept of self and part of our reality.

In any case, I had a nice day with people, and a nice time with S. last night, and Monkey MindWind is around, but I am still a little lonely and melancholy. It is nothing against my friends but I realize I only get to hang out with other disabled people online and that is a problem. I looked for support or social groups or something last year, but never found anything. Instead, reading other disabled bloggers has been something I lean on very hard.

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