To the girl struggling with her new disabled identity –
I see your frustration and fear
I see your anger
This new adjective was added to descriptors of myself when I entered college despite the diagnosis at 14
Figuring out that having to think more about fully picking up my feet wasn’t something everyone else had to do didn’t come until college
And damn is ice difficult when you get around on malfunctioning feet all the time
Some days I want to whisper that I understand your struggle yet I still carry shame in this uncomfortable adjective tacked to me
Denial eats away at you saying “I’m normal, I just have to get around a little differently”
Ending with you realizing you now have to navigate the world while reminding yourself what your body is incapable of trudging through
Finding pride in your body and the way it functions unlike the next person’s is a lonely journey when you’re one in 250,000
One day there will be too many falls and black bruises kissed by pavement equally as dark
My side will be kissed by a cane to aid my feet unable to leave the ground behind without dragging
But right now you can only see my hands tremble, unable to wrap around fine motor skills, some days worse than the others
Medication covers the pseudo-seizure episodes plaguing my body too many times a day for me to avoid becoming a target
I will not die of this but some days I am afraid my muscles will betray me enough to do so
I still see you though, and I hope you hear me whispering that you are not alone in this