TRIGGER TRIGGER TRIGGER

TRIGGER TRIGGER TRIGGER TRIGGER


The desire to isolate may not have even started out as depression at all, but developed into that. Because I remember having it for a long, long time.

I'll give you three guesses who I wanted to get away from.

My father and to a lesser extext (my mother)

The yelling and the verbal abuse got so bad that I would relish any opportunity that got me away from them, even I hated the reason for leaving. Summer camp, dsy camp, girl guides. Even hospital trips...There were times when I loved it at the hospital, I'm sorry to say, because I was away from the yelling. Felt real guilty because of the undeserved kindness I was shown there.

My parents would act almost human. I would be undergoing something dreadful and who do you want there? Mom and Dad. I'd get nice and homesick and then I'd get home and the yelling would start the second I got back.

I relished anything that got me away from them and that meant being alone. University? It was brutal...I hated what I was taking, but it was my first real taste of freedom, my first real taste of money and I was squandering both. $900 a month seemed like a lot of money then. My father wanted me to save it. I didn't understand. The fighting just got worse. I was so isolated from people, I went to university not knowing what a condom was.

Had no able-bodied friends at school. The disabled ones were few, far, between and dying off, didn't fit in with them either, eventually. I failed every attempt to help me. I was a flawed cripple. (I hate the c-word. I use it because my parents used it. It hurts!)

I'm better off isolating myself forever because I have to protect myself, from being yelled at, being hit, being locked in rooms and worse. That's what will come of letting people come too close.

I don't know whether to thank Doug or curse him, because being with people is stirring all sorts of feelings up that I don't want to feel.

Loneliness, the need for friends, the need to be loved.

I thought the government gave me what I needed.(barely) Food, water, medicines, a wheelchair, a roof.

Could there be more? Could I need more? Is there more to life than mere survival?

The answer disturbs me deeply.

A war is being waged over my soul. So far I am trying to fight on their side, the side of what they say is good and loving, but for how long?

These new feelings stirring within me. have to be obliterated if I am to protect myself from danger. Because what I say is good and loving is to lock me up in a room for the rest of my life, because I'm going to be punished otherwise. (I should be punished).

SIT DOWN, SHUT UP AND TAKE YOUR PUNISHMENT!

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.