A ‘letter’ to my disability support person at University that is just too truthful and crude to send. Even though I did my best while writing to write it in a way I could really express but keep it sane.
Suffice to say, by the end, I gave up.
But not for any reason you could think of. And none that I would say.
.
Sara is exactly what I need… except I need her after 4pm and on Fridays! I tend to say when referring to what I need help with that you could think of me as ‘mind blind’ – many of the same difficulties as if I couldn’t see, except I can and just can’t do them anyway because my mind just won’t let me function. That means that I can’t get to places on my own, for example, or open the door and walk in and sit down. While I am physically able to do that, just like a blind person is, I cannot do it without extreme effort which is very taxing on the mind – and by extension, body. And while it may seem awful that I am comparing myself to a blind person when you could say that they have it so much worse, it is the best analogy that I can think of, excluding of course obvious differences like being able to see and note down things like information on visual presentations. But many of the same mobility issues are similar; while I could physically do it, it would take extreme effort without help. And again a similarity of ‘help’ mostly meaning I follow someone – though I can do it by sight, without having to be in physical contact with them like a blind person would. I actually hate relying on people (though these days I have very little choice) but here I am, without Sara, utterly useless. Help. I can’t be suddenly, magically, better on Fridays and can somehow attend all my lessons – including the practical, which is something I have most problem with – on my own and be fine about it! I’m not going to actually send this because, despite my efforts, it still seems so rude and ungrateful – which I am not at all. I am so grateful and thankful for all the help, and maybe because of that – and because it’s the end of the first week and, being me, I’m reviewing the worst of it – that these almost little things are so frustrating! And of course, to me they’re not at all little things, they are huge things that I can’t see a way around or through on my own. I don’t know. I really really want to do this, so badly, but… I don’t see how I can right now. Even though you’re trying your best, and I’m trying my best (I think, but probably not if you actually ask me), if there’s one thing I’ve found through years of failing things it’s that the best often isn’t good enough. Sure, I got the taxi yesterday, but I had to walk all the way from the actual main building, to the university centre, and sit and wait while terrors and tears built up inside me. And sure, the taxi eventually came, but the mere action of going outside and waiting for it to stop, the man to get out and open the door, and getting in… just thinking about it makes me want to cry and, as I put it, ‘lose it’, which generally means not just crying but a breakdown and panic attack that lasts about an hour if I’m lucky. And today, I have the practical and I’m so terrified of everything but the animals. It’s not just the people, it’s the fact that we’re not just going to be sitting and writing – that’s all I can actually do independently now, and that’s after someone has taken me into the room and led me to a seat and basically sat me down. And I just… don’t know how I’m going to do this, let alone anything else in the world. I have a lesson after practical too, and I have no idea how I’m going to attend that. I even noted down what room it is in, not that that is any help to me because it’s the actual getting there and entering and sitting down – and then I have to wait and get the taxi again, and doing that on my own is akin to someone waiting to go to war. Yes, another extreme example, but it’s the best analogies I can think of where others can even start to comprehend how awful and terrifying everything is for me. Or, you know, if I was smart, like they say, I would have killed myself years before today.
Or if I was smarter, I would have got out and trained my own assistance dog while I still had the ability to mostly function somewhat.
But we all know who’s really responsible for that one. And for once it’s not all me.
strugglingbutstillfighting 