The X Person

I wrote my name, address and telephone number on the form.  I put an X by all the symptoms I have.  I circled yes or no on the questions asked. I stood on the scales and my height and weight were written down.  I am #7983126 in your files.

I sit at the desk next to yours.  I hear you trying to hide your snickers when I walk into the wall or bump against my desk.  I hear the frustration in your voice when I can’t find the words to answer your question.  I see your impatience when my fingers won’t hit the right keys on the keyboard or aren’t able to pick up my pen to write.

I am trying to stay out of your way.  I hang onto my shopping cart so that I can walk and not have to ride the motorized cart.  I am not purposely trying to hold you up.  I hesitate before I reach for an item to make sure that my hands are working and I won’t knock everything in the aisle over.  I am sorry you have to go around me.  I sometimes forget what I am looking for and have to stop and try to regroup my thinking.

I am sorry I don’t call you more often.  I know you aren’t crazy about emails.  Emailing is easier for me.  When I email, I can stop and gather my thoughts without trying to just spit something out.  I not only can’t think of the words I want to say, I sometimes can’t make them come out of my mouth.  My mouth will not always say the words my brain is thinking.

I am sorry you are in such a hurry and I am holding you up.  I would yell, cry or jump up and down (actually that is a lie….I CANNOT jump up and down!) if it would help you understand my problems.  I live with a monster.  He is present every minute of every day of my life.  I wish you could look inside my body and see him.  He is constantly moving and trying his best to make my life as miserable as possible.  But, I will fight him as long as my body will let me.  It is you that gets me down more than he does.  Not only do you not understand the battles I fight each day, but you don’t even seem to have the desire to try and understand what I go through.  It is so much easier to shrug and go on your way than it is to offer your friendship.

It is so much easier to ignore someone’s pain than to offer a shoulder of comfort.  It is so much easier to show disgust than to be understanding.  It is so much easier to hate than to risk giving love.

I think, in reality, YOU are the one who has the handicap.