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Post by Ray T on May 13, 2007 17:00:35 GMT -5
OK, fine; but what do paralyzed lower limbs MEAN TO YOU? Just freestyle here, go wild, let's try to dig in; What are thin, paralytic legs 'saying' to you? Don't just tell me you Really Like Them, or that you Just Feel Right when pretending, go deeper here... I appreciate that guests are allowed to post, here. Triassic, here's how I relate to this topic--and I'm a dev, not a pretender or wannabe: Speaking just for myself, I feel weak in the following attributes that I think my legs symbolize: 1) Authority, stature, confidence: "standing tall," "two legs to stand on." Often I am really alone--without "a leg to stand on"--in singlehandedly undertaking unpopular battles, for instance, with school authorities who are making life hard for the children. I know I'll get beaten, and I always take it very hard, but I can't yield just on that account. 2) Impulse for adventure, exploration: I am too anxious about getting into trouble or getting lost to enjoy much exploration, unless I have a confident partner. 3) Joy, fun: I can't seem to enjoy popular entertainments very much. I especially can't understand why people ever want to dance--it seems so frivolous, like an alien ritual. I like to do research, especially historical research, and people think that's weird. 4) A sense of belonging, feeling like one of the crowd. 5) Volition: I lack "get up and go" unless I am motivated by someone I care about, or by a sense of responsibility. The net feeling is recurrent despondency and loneliness, which often tends to make my legs feel weak and dull, not truly a part of me. I have the sense that I am deadening myself, in order to comply with an internalized set of injunctions about who I'm "supposed" to be: undemanding, unobtrustive, compliant, self contained--like Jane Eyre. In that state, it seems an ordeal to wake up my legs and make them work for me. That is when the thought of wheeling appears in my mind and seems momentarily attractive. It can just as quickly convert to the thought of meeting the sensitive wheeler man of my dreams. (Of course, he always understands me and embraces my eccentricities.) And isn't Jane Eyre the original dev? I'm also aware of imagining that wheeling would be an outward manifestation of my internal struggle--and in that case, might legitimize my unpopularity for me. It would be like saying, "See how fettered and burdened I am? And yet, I press on, so I am worthy of your admiration. I'm not really a weirdo outsider--I'm actually quite an asset to society." But such "morbid ideation" (as the shrinks call it) makes me disgusted with myself. Usually, if I make myself get up and go for a walk, I start to feel more normal, and those thoughts fade. Legs also express responsibility, as in "stand on your own two feet." When I'm mired in despondency, I wish to be free of the responsibility to strive to fit in and act "normal," and the mental image of wheeling seems to offer an out. I suppose I imagine that I could then blame the disability for my outsider status and no longer have to feel distress and shame about being, in fact, an oddball. I could sit down and coast on the oddness of my disability. And no politically correct person would dare blame me for a physical disability--nor, probably, for eccentricities that might seem to result from it. That is where DevoGirl's comment about a modern social construct fits in, because historically disabled people have been reviled. As for other people, I suspect if any relevant symbolism were consciously accessible, they would not be suffering from obsessive notions. It's axiomatic that obsessions are a cover for disowned thoughts and feelings. All I can say is you are the same person in a chair as you are out of it. if you are not happy out of a chair you are not going to be happy in one... the key to life is makingyourself happy if you do what you want to that makes you happy why worry about what others think... like devos who cares that some might think you are strange... and pretnders why worry that wheelers think you are wrong if it makes you content and happpy i say do it... look back at the root of all things and it is simple everyone just wants love and understanding... nothing more nothing less after someone gets that they can do anything and be happy... any way i am rambling. The chair is just an object it don't have powers to make you anything you are not... you have to do that
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Post by Interloper on Jun 6, 2007 13:43:22 GMT -5
I've been thinking a lot about everyone's comments, which I really appreciate. I think I'm more confused than I thought I was. For one thing, I realized with a start that I completely left out the fact that I have some orthopedic problems that have been going on since adolescence, resulted in two surgeries and lots of time on crutches, and now limit my functioning (not very visibly--mostly just painfully). But obviously that reality has not altered what others have, probably correctly, identified as my "wannabe" tendencies. I have no explanation for that. It's as if the "wannabe" quirks I described earlier are part of my quasi-romantic inner life, and the orthopedic crap is part of my gritty outer life, and the two don't even touch. I am now very baffled.
About the concept of body integrity confusion, I can relate to this also. I had to wear orthopedic shoes as a kid (which did no good), and my mother used to tell anyone who would listen about other alleged deformites. I can remember being astonished and grateful on the few occasions when someone would contradict her. She said to my skating teacher, "I'm afraid she's not very coordinated," and my teacher bristled and countered, "She's beautifully coordinated!" She said to a seamstress, "I'm afraid she's swaybacked," and the seamstress said, "She has a perfect back!" In my adult life, I confided to a friend with double-major-curve scoliosis that I had swayback, and she took a good look and pronounced, "You have a beautiful back!" I just never have known what to do with such lovely information. How do I take it in and make it part of me? How do I get rid of feeling like a fraud as a human?
It's like I want to tell people, "Hi, I'm grotesque. Can you see that?" But they can't. Sometimes, it freaks me out that they can see me at all, because when I get melancholy I tend to forget I'm actually visible.
When I was a little girl, my father used to introduce me as his mother, as a way of joking and flirting with waitresses and serving people behind counters. Outside of that odd little joke, he consistently reviled his mother as a fat old busybody. What do I make of this?
There are other things--maybe too strange to go into. I am just brought up short by seeing the dichotomy between my inner and outer life and am more perplexed than ever. No shrink I ever consulted had any wisdom on these subjects, which is one reason I so value this discussion with compassionate people.
Thank you for the insight.
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Post by Triassic on Jun 6, 2007 16:00:08 GMT -5
So, I think you're saying that your ACTUAL, real orthopedic problems don't count or don't satisfy your wannabe needs. Interesting...because I think most would agree that being disabled feels, well, 'gritty' most of the time. I've never found anything transcendant about it: braces pinch, they're hot; you sweat more than you can imagine crutching in florida, you fear slippery surfaces, etc etc...it's all very down and dirty stuff.
It sounds to me like you were probably a perfectly normal, attractive young girl whose parents said weird, inappropriate(and inaccurate)things for their own weird reasons...you know? And later, you could not believe you were OK and attractive.
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Post by Ouch on Jun 6, 2007 20:37:38 GMT -5
Wow, don't take offence to this, but your parents were complete a$$holes to you...
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Post by Valkyrja on Jun 6, 2007 21:41:24 GMT -5
Good Lord!! Interpolar... forgive for saying this but... your parents are really f*ck up!!... they really have a lot of problems. If I were you, I wuld question all the things they've said to me during my life.
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Post by Interloper on Jun 7, 2007 13:44:03 GMT -5
So, I think you're saying that your ACTUAL, real orthopedic problems don't count or don't satisfy your wannabe needs. Triassic, yes, I can see I've got perhaps a complete disconnect. It makes me feel like whacking myself on the head to try to knock some sense into place. Long term, my recurrent crutch use has rewarded me with elbow and shoulder problems, an appreciation of the fine points of backpacks, fanny packs, crutch tips, and reachers, an eye for all the common mistakes of short-term users, an impatience with athletic friends who suffer a minor injury and then tell me they can now really understand the problems I've had. There's nothing transcendent in all that, and "transcendent" is a very good word to use for what I'm looking for in my fantasy life. "Jane Eyre" is again my best example--a very sexual love that, through honesty and integrity, transcends ugliness, poverty, obscurity, disability, and even physical space to result in unification, joy, and fulfillment. I wonder if most people's fantasies concern a search for the transcendent. Yesterday, I was trying to remember my first experience on crutches after my first surgery. I do remember feeling a thrilling congruence click into place between my self-image and my real appearance. But that lasted only as long as I was alone. In the presence of others, I felt self-conscious and embarrassed--I think partly because I felt my inner life was now being exposed. I also felt fear and guilt, wondering if I'd somehow caused my own condition (a type of bone necrosis)--if I really had such fearsome powers. And I soon discovered the many disturbing ways in which average people react to someone they perceive as physically disabled. I was young, then, and encountered a lot of creepy patronization from older people, as well as creepier shunning on some occasions, and some maddening examples of being treated as brain damaged or mute. No-no--I don't let those experiences into my fantasy world. They don't belong. If I would let them take root, I fear I'd have no solace left. However! I did discover an effect I found powerful and liberating, which was that men saw me as asexual. Being massively confused and frightened of sexuality, at that time--my own and anyone else's--I felt a great rush of relief. The crutches gave me the magic power to wither men's desire. (Obviously, I never encountered a devotee.) I actually gained social confidence--till the orthopedist said my bone graft was solid enough, and that I should wean off the crutches. I forced myself to comply as well and quickly as possible. But I felt frightened and vulnerable without my "props." I did poorly for a long time--physically, socially, and emotionally. A year or so later, in my mid-twenties, I finally had my first consensual sexual experiences--with a gorgeous young man who was missing one hand, congenitally. I knew he felt ashamed of his limb, and that gave me courage to respond to his overtures. I felt almost equal to him, so I was able to open up. I still fantasize about him. In my second major go-round on crutches, I was much older. The times were different, and I elicted milder reactions than when I was young--or my response was milder, or both. The physical effort was much harder, though, and my arm joints suffered much more. I am anxious about how I'll manage next time around--I'm rather dreading it. I had a confusing experience, about a year ago. I was about to go kayaking and came upon the end of a kayaking race for people with lower-body disability, including a lot of wheelers. Now, I have increasing difficulty getting into and out of my kayak, which is a more accessible "sit atop" style (I don't have enough muscular control of my one leg to use a traditional kayak). Every time I get launched, I wonder how much longer I'll be able to keep up the sport. So I was thrilled to see that a service exists to enable people with far more serious conditions to go out. I went up to the nearest wheeler woman and began asking her about the service and the race. I quickly realized that she saw me as fully able bodied and was reacting as if my questions were misplaced, even intrusive. I felt a rush of confusion about my identity, another disconnect. ("Am I deformed or normal? Am I lost in fantasy, or is this real? Who am I supposed to be?") I retreated in anxiety and mortification. Here's the thing: If I were sure about who I am, I'll bet I could have smoothed over the moment, explained myself, corrected any misconceptions, maybe even made a friend. I've seen other people do that. I've done it myself, in different circumstances. But there is something very deeply twisted in my self image, and I writhe in agony when that knot is poked. The message that is triggered in my brain is something like, "I don't belong! I don't belong! I'm the wrong person! I am an ugly, twisted person!" Then I just want to get away and hide. This is so tiresome. I wish I could get over it. Triassic, Windrider, and Valkyr, thanks for the comments about my parents. I'm not at all offended. I've spent too long trying to figure them out. I once came across a description of "narcissistic personality disorder" that seemed to fit my mother perfectly. But in general I'm not a fan of psychiatric labels. Novelists and poets describe things much better. I agree, my parents were--still are, now in very old age--f'd up. The odd thing is that they don't seem to suffer much for it. I sometimes feel like the polyhedron inside the old "Magic 8 Ball"--that multifaceted fortune teller that would bob up from inside the inky depths and show one facet to the eager or anxious viewer, one pronouncement about life. I can usually keep this bleak facet of myself face down in the blackness and carry on perfectly normally. But it seems to emerge with particular force when I'm feeling sexually deprived. Then I wander in a disturbing, confusing tangle of fantasy, desire, loneliness, sorrow, and shame. It's really a waste.
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Post by Ouch on Jun 7, 2007 14:05:43 GMT -5
You're quite candid, and I respect that you're able to share to such a breadth that you have. It seems to me like finding a place for 'acceptance' has always been a struggle for you. I'm not very keen when it comes to interpreting things like that, but that's my stab at it. If so, you've found the right place I might add.
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Post by Triassic on Jun 7, 2007 15:52:54 GMT -5
What you say about your folks not having suffered from being screwy reminded me of an insight I once had;
Jerks aren't aware that they're jerks. Stupid people DON'T KNOW they're stupid. You have to have SOME awareness to even recognizxe your deficiencies...
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Post by Pony on Jun 7, 2007 16:40:17 GMT -5
Interpolar....in my opinion your parents helped distort your self-image, but the disability stuff can do a number on you, too. First, I had a fucked up childhood, too, so I know about that 'never fitting in feeling'. Then, I had my accident at 21, which really threw whatever self-image I had to the wind. It was like completely starting over with a new body, and it was really weird for some years, but slowly I built self-esteem. Now I still take shots at my ego, and still feel the "outsider" status a lot, but I have this side now that says "FUCK IT!!".
Fantasy is healthy for the brain (to a point).
Sometimes I think us humans THINK too much!! I can never achieve it, but I want to live like my cats, they just LIVE...no hauntings from the past, or social status, no thoughts of acceptance. sometimes I write "Buscando la paz", which means "Looking for peace!". I wrote a short story on this subject, and it's a theme I use in life to guide me, settle my thoughts.
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Post by Ouch on Jun 7, 2007 20:30:19 GMT -5
I sorta' agree with that, Tony. I think Humans forget, that we are in a way...animals...we sometimes try to hard to be 'smart', and forget we can sometimes rely on just plain instinct...somewhat like cats...
"Buscando para amor." (again, I don't know if I got the right language lol)
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Post by Valkyrja on Jun 7, 2007 23:05:52 GMT -5
Yeah you don't see animals going to a psychiatrist although I have heard that you guys in the States have shrinks for your pets. Don't know if that is true. And Tony why are you wearing that hat? In case some chick comes up to you and wants to sit on your knee and tell you what she wants for Christmas! LOL!!!... "Tony Claus"!! About Interloper (forgive me if I mistook your name again!), The boys are right, I don't know why but we, human beings, need the acceptance from the others. We need to know that the other approve us. Unfortunately you had the bad luck to have the parents you have because they seem to have denied you what use to be the "primordial" acceptance: the parent approval. But I think that is their problem, not yours. When you formed an image of you, first ask yourself if tha image agrees with the one your parents tell you is the correct one. If it is this way, that image is surely the mistaken one. So, try to form a new image, one you can be agreed with.
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Post by Triassic on Jun 8, 2007 10:45:59 GMT -5
Valkyr, in that avatar you look like an old time Hollywood star; Lana Turner or Veronica Lake or Garbo...
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Post by Ouch on Jun 8, 2007 11:01:09 GMT -5
What a scam! Good strategy though... Actually, ya' know...I'm surprised more folks in wheelchairs don't end up being those mall Santas...they already are sitting, and ready to go lol. There are many strange services rendered for pets these days in the good ol' U.S. of A., it would make you wonder...like restaurants catering exclusively to pets.
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Post by Pony on Jun 8, 2007 16:27:17 GMT -5
You guys crack me up....OF COURSE I've used the Tony Claus ploy to lure in the elusive female prey!! I'd be an idiot if I didn't use that one!! lol Yes Windrider....aren't we all Buscando para amor!!! My own view here, I think humans are TOO smart!! We will destroy ourselves eventually because we're so smart that it makes us STUPID!! We are greedy, always pushing the limits and treat other humans, animals and the Earth with disrespect. We're so smart that we're terribly fucked up with hangups and issues that cause incredible EVIL. Just watch the news if you need any convincing!! Now let's PARTY!!
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Post by Triassic on Jun 8, 2007 17:52:18 GMT -5
Well...remember, the news is a huge vacuum cleaner of bad stuff working 24 hours a day to make you worried about things.
Where would we gimps be w/out modern civilization, anyway? DEAD! That's where. We'd perish in the wild, or in a primitive culture.
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