When you are younger than I and live a “normal” life, you may not be able to get the picture in your mind of my story. If you are disabled or elderly and confined to your four walls, you may understand perfectly.
I get so tired of the silence here in my room. I have the TV and the radio and my cellphone. After a while, those become concrete statues also. After, I run out of things to occupy my mind, I will grab my walker, go downstairs and check my mail, and if I am fortunate, I will find other people sitting on their walkers or in their wheelchairs, congregated and chatting.
I desperately don’t want to participate in this group, but I want them to save my life on the other side. I sit down on my walker and I listen and look. I look at each face, mentally comparing it to mine.
I check out their clothes, their hands, their hair color and styles. I am not snoopy or better than them. I am comparing them to my own body. Does that make sense? I listen to them talk about the puzzles they worked on that day, what they had for lunch. Sometimes they talk about how they didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.
There are times I laugh with them, and if I can find something similar in my life that I did that day; I will add it to the conversation. Other times, I come back to my four walls and feel so depressed and almost in tears.
You may be asking, why did she move there, because she knew what type of people lived there. That would be a good question and the answer is; I didn’t have much choice. Opportunities didn’t come in time and I needed a place to live. I didn’t want to move out of where I had resided the past year, but things happen, right?
This place worked because I am on disability and almost a legal senior citizen, but my mind is not. With having my illness, I should be so thankful for this place, but having this illness forces me to realize that life is shorter in quality of life, and therefore; I want to live.
I am not mentally ready to put puzzles together. I am not mentally ready to sit on my scooter all day or in a wheelchair. I fight back tears when I look around me and all I see are people just like those in the photograph.
I want to laugh. I want to run. I want to play. I want to live life before I am wheelchair bound. Seeing those already seated in my waiting spot, makes me ill. I want to pack my bags and hit the road, never looking back.
Of course, I want a lot of things, like most of us. For me, I want to rid this illness. I want to walk by myself without aide, but some things I have to face, I can not change. I want to change what I can change and learn to face that some things won’t change.
Does any of this make sense? I have lived over half my life and I made mistakes and I learned from some. This latter part of my life, I have nothing to lose, but to gain laughter, memories and less stress. This is what I dream of and yearn for.
I never thought different about environment except in the form of how it causes illnesses, but I now know that your every day living is also effected by what you see in front of you day in and day out. I have got to make changes. I want to live, mentally.