Oh, CJ, I'm so sorry I didn't read your other post in time to comment. I've been in a tailspin again since I discovered the latest betrayal (the $$$$ one), and haven't been reading enough.
I was in denial for a long time. In my case I knew my disorders were permanent, but I insisted that I could do whatever I wanted anyway -- even though I knew I'd pay for it later by having to pretty much live in the recliner for a few days. I refused to get a cane or a handicrapTM parking tag because that would be admitting that I was disabled.
I got the handicrap tag first because it was so painful to walk, and it was an enormous help. I'd had to stop going to the mall because I couldn't walk around and still make it back to the car -- especially if I'd bought anything and had to carry stuff. And in those days the mall was pretty much all the shopping there was in town, so it was a major problem. Being able to use the handicrap spaces made my life much easier.
But I still refused to get a cane because "I was too young". One day I was struggling along on the second floor of the mall, hanging onto the railing, and every time I got to an aisle that crossed over and had to walk without the railing it was awful. I finally realized that I could have something to lean on wherever I went if I just had enough sense, and I finally got a cane.
Once I got the hang of using it I realized how incredibly foolish I had been. I wished I'd hadn't forced myself to do without it for so long. I never used the institutional one my PT gave me -- I found a very pretty one and felt much better using that. Eventually I found a gorgeous hand-carved one from Kenya (it looks vaguely like these (http://www.beautysinternationalmarketplace.com/images/Nov16WalkStickCombo.gif)) (it was on clearance at the SERRV shop (http://www.serrv.org/) so I only paid $16 for it!!). I got compliments on it absolutely everywhere I went, often from total strangers, and I realized that instead of seeing it as a mobility aid, people saw a fashion accessory, and it was a great feeling knowing that people weren't pitying me for being disabled. (So if you ever decide to get a cane, it's worth spending a little extra to get a pretty one.)
Acceptance is not the same as "giving up." You can continue working to get better while still accepting that, at least for the near future, you will be dealing with the pain and reduced mobility. You can focus on making life easier now while you continue to hope for improvement.
I'll watch your journal more carefully now. You're always there for me with helpful, friendly or cheerful comments, as appropriate, and even though you obviously have a lot of wonderful friends, I want to be there for you too with whatever insights and help I can give.
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I was in denial for a long time. In my case I knew my disorders were permanent, but I insisted that I could do whatever I wanted anyway -- even though I knew I'd pay for it later by having to pretty much live in the recliner for a few days. I refused to get a cane or a handicrapTM parking tag because that would be admitting that I was disabled.
I got the handicrap tag first because it was so painful to walk, and it was an enormous help. I'd had to stop going to the mall because I couldn't walk around and still make it back to the car -- especially if I'd bought anything and had to carry stuff. And in those days the mall was pretty much all the shopping there was in town, so it was a major problem. Being able to use the handicrap spaces made my life much easier.
But I still refused to get a cane because "I was too young".
Once I got the hang of using it I realized how incredibly foolish I had been. I wished I'd hadn't forced myself to do without it for so long. I never used the institutional one my PT gave me -- I found a very pretty one and felt much better using that. Eventually I found a gorgeous hand-carved one from Kenya (it looks vaguely like these (http://www.beautysinternationalmarketplace.com/images/Nov16WalkStickCombo.gif)) (it was on clearance at the SERRV shop (http://www.serrv.org/) so I only paid $16 for it!!). I got compliments on it absolutely everywhere I went, often from total strangers, and I realized that instead of seeing it as a mobility aid, people saw a fashion accessory, and it was a great feeling knowing that people weren't pitying me for being disabled. (So if you ever decide to get a cane, it's worth spending a little extra to get a pretty one.)
Acceptance is not the same as "giving up." You can continue working to get better while still accepting that, at least for the near future, you will be dealing with the pain and reduced mobility. You can focus on making life easier now while you continue to hope for improvement.
I'll watch your journal more carefully now. You're always there for me with helpful, friendly or cheerful comments, as appropriate, and even though you obviously have a lot of wonderful friends, I want to be there for you too with whatever insights and help I can give.