"That's alright. I taught special ed for years. I know all about 'long stories.'"
^This was by far the most painful response I've heard regarding my mental disability. You see, in 2010, my life changed forever. I was rushed to the ER and ended up having brain surgery. I'll avoid the details and just say that I was left a couple pennies short of a dollar. Granted, most people do not notice anything wrong with me. However, if you take a closer look, you'll see.
You'll see the cups all over my house because I can't remember where I put my water...so I just get another one(4+ times a day). You might even see me staring off into space while I clean my daughters bottle for over five minutes. If you are really observant, you'll notice that I'm finding it impossible to follow your simple directions. I probably laugh on occasion or nod when I lost track of what you were saying.
I get confused easy. Stressed even easier. Stress brings seizures. Seizures bring more confusion.
I definitely can't function to get a job. That being said, this is where I mention the opening quote. I was at the social security office when a woman and a man(who I don't know) asked why I needed my mom present. "Are you under aged?" They asked. "No," I replied. I am normally a private person when not comfortable. "It's a long story," I said, deciding that it would probably keep them from asking more questions. Well, I was right. They didn't ask anything else.
"I know all about long stories. I was a special ed teacher for years," the woman said.
After 4 years of collecting disability, I finally felt disabled. She hurt me in one sentence more than the scars or the looks of disgust during healing ever could.
As I sat in the passenger seat on the way home, I meditated on her words. I thought about being disabled. I thought of the stigma. Of how people treat others who are mentally disabled. It hurt. Suddenly, though, I thought of my daughter. Her beautiful face filled my mind. I remembered that no matter what limits I have, I am still an amazing wife and mother. Sure, the challenges are different for me. I have to make sure that someone watches me give my baby a bath. But, I always have someone to witness her growing with me. The changes of her behavior in the tub, from sitting still to splashes and screams of joy.
Yes, I am a mentally disabled woman. But I have a God who makes me a fully abled mommy. Normal can bite me.
