Each handicap is like a hurdle in a steeplechase, and when you ride up to it, if you throw your heart over, the horse will go along, too. ~~Lawrence Bixby

Thursday, January 7, 2016

It's a small, small world

Occasionally I run across one of my old daily calendars with events and appointments jotted down; or an address book from a decade ago. I'm astounded by how many activities I participated in and how many people I was regularly in contact with.

Since becoming disabled, my world has shrunk considerably. No longer do I have the energy to go out several evenings a week to hear music (or perform it), see a movie, visit with friends, go to a party or out for a meal. Most of my communication with friends takes place via email or Facebook - even a phone call seems daunting at times.

Truth be told, I've always been an introvert and a homebody - I love my alone time, and crowds can make me uncomfortable. But the physical limitations and fatigue factor have compounded this. Sometimes even thinking about going out where I know there will be a crowd is exhausting. Some of it has to do with access, especially if there are unknown factors -- will there be stairs? is the bathroom accessible? -- and some of it depends on my level of pain and/or fatigue in the moment.

I would love to be one of those inspiring disabled people who barrel through life no matter what - showing up at parties and dances, fearlessly braving the obstacles, their calendars full of activities. Right now, my calendar for the next two months shows my weekly choir rehearsals, semi-monthly ensemble rehearsals, my weekly workout session, a therapy appointment, and one outing with friends. It is enough.

What makes me saddest about this dearth of activity is the lack of dates Laurie and I have. We used to go out often for meals, to lectures, movies, and concerts, for walks. Nowadays it's takeout and a streaming movie for date nights. Laurie often goes out with friends now instead of with me. I'm glad she feels free to do that - it isn't fair that we both be restricted by my inability to have a larger life.

This post is mostly for my own observation. I'm not feeling sorry for myself -- my life is quite rich with what I am able to do, and in spite of pain and disability, I'm a happy person. I think a certain amount of social shrinkage is normal as we age; but it has taken me a bit by surprise, especially when I see it in black and white on old calendars.

And I really hope I have not planted an ear worm of It's a Small World in your head.

3 comments:

Tiffin said...

As my old dad used to say, "We don't get to choose our lot in life, we only get to choose what to do with it". I think you are making good choices for you, Ter, despite all of it. xo

Terri said...

Thank you, Tui. I am fortunate to have many resources at my disposal and a partner who's willing and able to help me through the rough bits.

Connie M said...

Terri, my old calendars show the same trend and I wonder how I did all that stuff...or wanted to! I think age and waning energy impacts most of us introverts. However it's a bummer to have limitations more imposed than chosen, as you've so eloquently expressed. I admire how much you do, and also how present you are to the beauty and humor and love in the world. And I love how you think about, and express, your feelings about the transitions you're facing. Connie M