That's right. Sit in a wheelchair for a while. People look past you, talk around you and appear deaf. It's denied, of course, because they are nice people and never do anything hurtful. They built a ramp, put a rail beside the toilet and made a parking place. However the ramp leads to a door with a broken opener, the toilet is too low (if you get past the door) and access to the sidewalk is unmarked, buried in snow or half a block away. The invitation excludes you whether it meant to or not.
You are invisible. At least it seems that way, because they are nice people and never do anything hurtful. They really are. I forget this, at times.
Maybe I'm busy being invisible?
I keep quiet, expecting assistance or inclusion instead of asking for it. Complaints kept to myself, sadness builds into a crescendo of self pity that only I can hear. They really are nice people trying to help, include and make a way, but I still feel invisible.
I used to be healthy, strong and involved. I kept busy serving and working, learning and growing, and being a useful part of society. Now, what? How do I function?
Somehow I must inform those around me and drop the invisibility shield. Without yelling, nagging or crying I must inform, educate and agree. I am valuable. I am available. I am brave.
I am not invisible.
No comments:
Post a Comment