It hurts. Always.
It hurt me-the fear and the love. The fear that I was an imposition-the retracting of my asking for someone else to take me home, undermining my independence.
The anxiety of always wanting to know who would be responsible for me-even as an adult.
The fear that someone 'out there' would take advantage of me, so keeping me away from social situations.
The sending me to school where I was basically told that authority knew best-and I had no algebra in school.
The fear of me being different, therefore 'bad'.
I cannot think of anything more hurtful than the protectiveness of that love in which the heart of fear lies, for it is the hardest to break down; the most difficult to explain in words, in any language. For ultimately, it is love, but inside lurks the fear, the anxiety of what was programmed-the burden, the imposition, the gullability, and the noninitiative taker. The disabled one, in this case, myself, who is hurt and unintentionally belittled by it-made to feel less than what I truly could be, even as a person who is blind. Not the blind one who is a person.
And trust me, there is a difference; in the former, the disability is but a small part of me; in the latter I *am* my disability. Please, for the love of the gods, treat me like the former; the latter just pisses me the hell of. KTHX.
Entry for therealljidol Hope you enjoy; writing this from Florida.