I used to think denial was like a
light switch: either all the way on, or all the way off. For example, you
either believed in evolution, or you clung to your knuckle-dragging dogma and
denied its existence altogether.
But like so much of human
behavior, denial is complicated, shaded between stark black and white with many
hues of gray.
Denial can only be put to rest
with unconditional acceptance, and acceptance is a long, multi-layered process.
I know this all too well. It took me many years to fully accept my diagnosis of
rheumatoid arthritis.
No one wants to accept that
something terrible has happened to them or to a loved one, especially something
utterly undeserved. We want to believe that, all things considered, the
universe is fair. The good will be rewarded; the evil, punished.
What if the terrible thing that
happens is starkly real today, but illusive tomorrow? A severed leg ain’t
growing back -- ever. You either accept it or you’re going fall down a
lot. But rheumatoid arthritis, or RA --
my disability, is often episodic. Just when you think you can’t take one more
miserable day, it eases off for a bit. This only encourages the false hope that
the medication, prayers or copper bracelets are actually working.
None of the many forms of
arthritis have any known causes or cures. Lots of theories, nothing for
certain. This always leaves the door open to “someday they’ll find a cure.” I
can tell you that – if you’re not careful -- that door leads straight to the
dungeon of denial.
Today, there still are no cures
for RA but there are many good medications that can effectively manage symptoms
and prevent joint damage. But back in my day if you had the disease in severe
form, effective treatment options were sparse.
After half a century of living, I
accept that I will always use a wheelchair for mobility. That I will never
climb the terraces of Machu Picchu, or wear a pair of high heels.
If you’re struggling to accept a
disability, don’t beat yourself up. It takes time, lots of crying, a good sense
of humor and perhaps some talk therapy.
Stay strong. Fight past the shame
of “otherness” imposed on us by society.
Ultimately, acceptance isn’t
defeat. It’s liberation.
Thank you for this. I've been struggling to accept the realities of having fibro. I've moved a pair of boots across the country twice even though I've not been able to wear the for more than 4 years now. I just put them in the donation box and while I feel sad about admitting that I'm never going to have the balance or enough freedom from pain to wear them again, at least I won't have to look at the damn things anymore! And someone else will love them, I'm sure.
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