Being born with a disability and being kept in the dark about it for 46 years, meant there would be no getting away from my emotions being impacted.
Sadly, everything I struggled with was ignored including my neurological impairments. Every struggle, every fear, all the anxiety and stress I carried through my formative years, could have been limited with encouragement, help and support.
Years of sleepless nights because of bad thoughts could have been avoided. Stress around having to do my exercises every night seven days a week could have been limited, if I’d have known why I was made to do my exercises. My wanting to talk about my disability and being told there was nothing wrong with me, to get on with my life, set the tone.
But it was my ability to think things through, being able to rationale my circumstances that got me through. My inner thoughts became my friend, allowing me to think about and understand everything that was happening in my life. Although it was never said, it became obvious that my parents had made a decision to ignore my disability, instead of making what I dealt with inclusive for my family to help me deal with.
My thinking none of us knew what was wrong softened the blow and I could cope with that. Imagine then finding out at around the age of 48 years that there was a diagnosis. I was even more exposed, than I thought I was.
I know that if it wasn’t for my Diary now, I’d still have those struggles. Through my writing, I find an understanding on each of my experiences. My blogs have allowed me to make sense of the early years up to this point, for me to rationale my experiences.
For the first time I am finally able to make sense of all my experiences.