Open Letter to A Good Friend

Steve & me at Payne LakeMaybe by explaining it to you I can come to understand it better myself. I have a lot of sadness. How it presents in my mind is influenced by many factors. I’m not sure, but it seems to be becoming more prevalent either with growing older or as my years as a quadriplegic increase or both. I find myself longing for some of the abilities of my former life, like independence, freedom, spontaneity and self-reliance. Truly, if I have any part of these they are mere shadows of what they used to be. Oh, I forgot the most important one is control. That’s the issue! What control do I have in my life? Really?

Mental control, I feel, I have more of and most of the time it allows me to keep the other at a distance. Physical control, however, of my overall environment is really lacking. What I can do by myself is limited. Within a mile of my house in either direction are steep hills which once down I could not get back up. To leave, in the van, means someone must be driving me. My four-wheel drive chair, even in my local environment, also has limited physical boundaries. Most of the activities away from home require a supporting cast while activities in the home also require occasional assistance now and then.

At times, when these limiting factors seem to become overwhelming and I feel things are out of control I tend to become passive aggressive a condition I often had to deal with with my special education students Defined on Google as: of or denoting a type of behavior or personality characterized by indirect resistance to the demands of others and an avoidance of direct confrontation, as in procrastinating, pouting, or misplacing important materials.

Commonly, I will respond negatively taking action over the things I do have control of, even though at the time I know the action is not in my best interest. Most often it involves cancelling doctor appointments, my participation in activities or events I have been preparing for and really want to be a part of or just refusing to do what I should do. I feel better briefly and then wonder what the hell did I do that for and my only thought is “Because I can.”

One response to “Open Letter to A Good Friend

  1. Reblogged this on zuzusays and commented:
    This was a big issue for my mom too. I did understand it and wish I could have helped.

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