When I am online, I admire all the people who are so self-confident in their own illness. I know I don’t have to mirror myself to others, but I like to become one of those girls that is not ashamed of the weight she gained through her medication use, or the one who proudly admits its okay to just be. Those are my standards, but I’m afraid I don’t always live by them.
I live in a household that has had its ups and downs, but to show my fragile self and the state I am in is something I barely give to people. I’m afraid I might come off as an annoying, whining, lazy shit who thinks the world revolves around her for being in pain. I want to show I don’t need to be saved or need help and I’m independent despite the illness.
But here is the truth: I do need help. I’m not always as independent as I want to be. Realising it is okay to ask for help, to aid yourself, is hard for me. It’s often the ‘what if I look like a stupid kid that won’t grow up?’ question that holds me back from those things. Apart from my loved ones, I never give in.
So when my fibro got worse during the cold weather, I noticed even small errands or walks weren’t going as smooth as they should be. My hip started locking into place during walking and my legs got longer and more painful spasms. Before all of this, walking was only tiring, but never really painful. The pain remained in my upper body, around my shoulders,neck and back. But with this additional trouble going on, I knew I needed help.
This is where the cane comes in. After a few days I figured out that it wasn’t going to help if I only rubbed myself in with muscle relaxer and by staying put. No, I was afraid I needed a little assistance. Reading about other fibro patients who are using canes and wheelchairs at a young age gave me more confidence to buy one myself. But this is the tricky part: When you are using a visible instrument, people are going to ask questions. They will stare, they will talk about you. Being the paranoid bitch I already am, I already had 10 doom scenarios in my head. As long as you are walking and acting like any other human, you’re fine. But as soon as you are visible impaired, people look when you walk by.
So what made me change my mind? the necessity. If I have the bad day I am so afraid of, let it come. Now that I am using one (pictured above) I do notice the difference. Before, I had to hold on to everything near me. Whether that’ll be people or furniture. Hell, I’d even hold on to your cat for support. I now have my own little support-line, and I’m fine with it.
Plus: I went ahead and decorated the whole thing with stickers and glitters. At least they’ll know I’m a fancy impaired bitch.