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.