Reaching out

As a child, I tried to reach out, tried to find a voice around my physical and emotional issues, but sadly no one was listening. They didn’t want to know.

Families are better at dealing with disability, there is still a stigma around disability and society still hasn’t come far enough when it comes to the disability thing. Not everyone accepts disability, in the same way society’s still not accepting of gender or race.

I still go back to this, because I became a victim; that ones insecurities and having our own things to deal with, isn’t an excuse. Over the years my experiences have shown that it’s not enough for us to want to be listened to, others must want to listen and reach out to us.

They must want to help when we ask or want to talk about our struggles with disability. Allow us to feel worthy as if disability matters, as if we matter. Reaching out is a simple gesture that confirms to others, particularly family that we want them to listen, even if they can’t help us.

And whilst it’s true that we all deal with something, when someone reaches out, it’s because that person needs a voice, they need to be heard. It’s simply not enough to ignore what they say.

10 Oct, 2017

4 thoughts on “Reaching out

  1. Considering the family and world I grew up in, reaching out was indirectly highly discouraged and also pretty much ignored for the most past.

    Emotionally abusive neglect would be putting it mildly. They taught us that asking for help was pretty much like one of the ‘7 deadly sins’ so eventually I got to the point of why even bother?

    This is exactly why I have such a hard time asking for help, since they always made it seem like we were asking for a kidney or something when we dared to ask for something like a winter jacket in the middle of winter.

    They usually didn’t want to know and didn’t want to hear it, seeing as they were always more concerned about how much it would cost. Most normal parents wouldn’t be making such an issue of it and doing what they had to do to make sure their children got what they needed, no matter what.

    Obviously this led me to living a life where I always felt like I didn’t have a voice and didn’t think it was okay to reach out for help when I needed to. The pattern for me was to end up associating with people who treated me the same way as I was always treated, which now makes perfect sense. You live what you know.

    I have been taking classes for DBT which actually focuses on things like learning to speak up for yourself. It has been very strange to learn that it is okay to do so and that people will listen even though many times you know they really don’t want to, but happen to be in a position where they have to, like store managers.

    This has now led to me not only speaking up for myself, but wanting to speak up for others which has been so great. There are so many who aren’t able to reach out like I wasn’t able to, who need to have a voice and there are people out there who will listen.

    1. Your last paragraph sums up your blog nicely Randy. ‘This has now led to me not only speaking up for myself, but wanting to speak up for others, which has been so great.’

      I love that you are speaking up for yourself and helping others too Randy. I believe and still maintain that learned behaviour can always be unlearned and re-learned again.

      It doesn’t matter how we learn or where we get help from. What matters is that we turn our lives around.

      I’m pleased to say that my blogs are testament to that.

  2. I never tried to reach out to my family as I worked out early on that I was on my own and that veneer bothered me.

    It must be hard when a child does reach out and they are ignored by the people who matter. I guess it kind of makes you think again about ever reaching out to protect yourself from rejection.

    1. Yes, I’m sure it bothered you. You were a child. You’re supposed to have the support. I think in my case, trying to reach out and failing, made me even more determined for something to change. I never stopped believing that my time would come, that I would eventually know what I was dealing with.

      The CP Diary gives me a voice. I never take what I do for granted that’s just me, but I also understand the bigger picture of why I’m doing what I’m doing now. Things were supposed to happen this way.

      Had my family given me the support and told me what I was dealing with, I doubt I would be writing for the site now. My life was always meant to happen this way.

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