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.
Every struggle, every fear, all the anxiety and stress brought about through my neurological impairments, could have been limited with family encouragement, help and support. Years of sleepless nights because of bad thoughts, could have been avoided. Stress around my having to do my exercises every night seven days a week could have been limited, if I’d have known why I was pushed to do them by my mum.
I understand now why my mum wanted me to do my exercises. If only it had been explained. Sadly, my wanting to talk about my disability and being told there was nothing wrong with me, set the tone. But it was my ability to think things through, being able to rationale that got me through. My inner thoughts became my friend, allowing me to understand everything that was happening in my life.
Although it was never said, it became obvious that a decision had been taken 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 there was a diagnosis. I all of a sudden became even more exposed than I thought I was.
Through my writing, I am able to find an understanding on each of my experiences. My writing has 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 my experiences.