Hi hi hi! Today I would like to discuss an essential theme that is life changing. The materialistic desires that irk and tingle a burning sensation, that propel the impression you can’t live without it, igniting motivation. However once attained; the anticipated satisfaction is merely not there. You’re buzzed at the purchase but it fizzles out until the butterflies and jumping in joy is replaced with nothing. The more rewarding element is the tenacity employed to earn the subject. My point is that once you reach what you thought was enough, you realise it isn’t. We are always wanting more. Therefore, enjoy the journey. Ensure you are on a path that will make you fulfilled. Don’t do something just because everyone is pressuring you to. Don’t regret years from now pondering the delicate, glass possibility that has slipped from your hands. Don’t let others live your life.
Rather recently, I was mindlessly sitting through class, preoccupied with completing work from other classes. My teacher was asking throw away questions. Who is this? Dory. Who is this? Nemo. I said it matter of factly, expecting him to continue and explain whatever principle we were studying. Wrong!! He sighed exasperated. “You should know this,”his voice inflected with bewilderment and disappointment. Marlin, Another girl supplied. Ding ding! But no bells were ringing for me. The lesson here was to keep my mouth shut.
The inability to interpret facial expressions or pictures accurately is quite debilitating. Whilst the immediate lightbulb radiates in others, igniting intricate conclusions, I grapple to piece together what the 2 circles and oval are forming. It without a doubt has hindered my performance on exams. More crucially though, lacking competence to unravel facial expressions and gestures particularly prevalent if distant is present. I fail to notice the ever imperative nonverbal cues. Therefore, half the story is not conveyed. Furthermore, it is difficult in a crowd to pinpoint a specific person as I cannot entirely see the face.
These struggles inhibit daily life. On multiple occasions I’m reminded of my inferiority. However, I still manage to execute I would say a pretty decent life. It’s about acknowledging where you fall short and not denying it. Denying does not rid the nuisance. It in fact amplifies it and creates more bothersome pestering. A bug does not miraculously disappear from existence if you ignore it. Instead, swatting it away and learning to adapt crosses the hurdle. You need to spread your wings without shame.
Hi guysss! Last time I elaborated on the unexplainable level of gratitude that my friends primarily are aware of my shortcomings and to not be perturbed of them noticing your struggles: physical, mental; it does not matter. Today, I will share my college essay on how my disability resulted in dread and avoidance behaviour since it pertains to the subject.
Fear and embarrassment are a fierce wind, ferocious and unforgiving. It forcefully flings one like a leaf, launching them opposite of the desired direction. It requires a tremendous amount of unwavering perseverance and resilience to not succumb into helplessness, to combat such a potency. Only following years and years of passivity, of permitting the wind to hurl me, I have gradually learned how to resist to some extent and stand my ground.
I was born with Cerebral Palsy. As a result, a numerous number of physical shortcomings manifest. This includes very limited usage of my right hand. I lack the simple ability to flip it. Holding objects depends on various factors but regardless the grasp is not solid. Fine motor skills are nonexistent. In addition, my legs fail to execute the capabilities of an average person, and I walk with a limp. Unfortunately the list does not cease there. To top off my luck, I have poor vision and eye fatigue. Due to all these lovely gifts, I was swept off my feet, and trapped in subordination.
I grew to avoid situations and mortification seemed to be my shadow. Declining invitations to hangout became my resort. Home was safe, sheltered from humiliation and my true colours being discovered. The daunting, nagging worry of what activities I wouldn’t be able to comply with vanished. The chance of embarrassment faded. Similar occasions sprouted when my school held these gatherings every Monday called Motivational Mondays. Amid these 45 minute sessions, a series of exercises, games, or discussions were set in motion to inspire and evoke a certain realisation. Although it only succeeded in sparking uncertainty and doubt to course through me. The what ifs cascading through my mind were too powerful. My heart was racing faster than the Flash. My stomach was practically welcoming butterflies. Consequently, my resolution was to preemptively claim the excuse of having to go to the bathroom; I stationed myself there for the duration of the event. And bam just like that with a little lie The Wind was gone…or so I was under the impression.
Yet as time passed, I began to understand that, depending on that strategy, I was merely surviving life, not living it to the fullest. Developing a bolder, indifferent attitude was the necessary approach. Now I can proudly announce that in 11th grade I attended all the Motivational Mondays, only skipping a singular game. A little over a month ago, a couple of my friends yearned to go to Kemah Boardwalk. The idea was indeed foreboding. However, the weather was not promising with high percentages of rain. Therefore, I highlighted that in hopes to discourage their motivation, but they were determined it be brought into fruition. The old me would have invented a reason to go home. But I had evolved; I was going to face The Wind, quite literally too, so I boarded the pick up truck. Just as anticipated, embarking and dismounted the rides yielded some difficulty with my friend assisting me once. Whilst I clambered out, the thought of how uncoordinated I must look crossed my mind and my face heated up. Instead of permitting it to seize me, I pushed it aside. This transformed into my course of action. For instance in the airport, during immigration, when one approaches the desk, there is a segment that requests the placement of both thumbs upright, in a crisp straight line with the remaining four fingers tucked away. Abiding is not achievable, as my right thumb tilts inwards with my other fingers pointing vertically ahead, achieving precisely the reverse of the demand. Even though my back prickled, the desire to evaporate did not arise.
Despite self consciousness prevailing to this day, the progress is unarguable. Now when people stare at me, I lock eye contact, glaring harder, rather than pretending not to notice. I have blossomed from my shell, acknowledging that The Wind will be present; it cannot always be sunny. It is how you react that is significant. Waiting for circumstances to magically improve or disappear is ineffective. It is okay to be afraid but you cannot capitulate to it. The Wind must be withstood…
Comment below a foreboding, onerous ordeals that are swamping you. How will you combat “The Wind?”
I know what it is like not having any friends. Quite frankly it is the most desolating and lonely feeling ever. Encompassed by laughing peers enjoying their time, you falter into isolation, yearning for at least one person that would provide the opportunity to be frothy with, to spill secrets. You would desperately give anything to not sit alone in the cafeteria. You lack feeling like a primacy. Your phone is as dry as a desert. Despite the deplorable outlook, the circumstances can alter. It happened to me.
I finally possess true friends to share anything and everything with, to giggle with until our stomachs feel like erupting. They accept and cherish me in spite of my unerring disability! Overtime, naturally they have observed my weaknesses and incapabilities, learning when I may need assistance. It really warmed my heart when we were on a walk and there was a colossal jump down with no presence of a railing, and my friend immediately commented “Hold on, I got you,” and lifted me up, before I even articulated my inability. I am forever grateful. Do not fret over being vulnerable with friends, of having your shortcomings be known. At the end of the day, they will try their best to help. Comment below a time a friend knew you were need or something you wished they understood.
Sometimes you so desperately yearn for a certain outcome (tangible or not). But you take a realistic, sensible approach- aware that the probability of the occurrence is extremely miniscule. Having to face the reality that it likely will not arise is daunting and harrowing. However, attempting is essential, preventing rumination and regret. It is much more satisfying living with the knowledge you did all that you could, rather than constantly pondering the matter.
Contact lenses are an item that I have longed for for as painfully long as my memory extends back. Unfortunately due to my eye conditions, we were under the impression that it was not plausible. Although, at my annual eye check up, my doctor suggested delving into them. A flutter surged through, a small trace of hope birthed. Nonetheless, I proceeded with caution, balancing reason, noting that the desired results were close to zero.
The clinic was 35 minutes away. In spite of my eye report conducted 2 weeks ago, a fresh examination took place, the dreaded dilation followed. Thus, we were situated back in the lobby to sit restlessly for an hour. And later my vision would be blurred, inhibiting productivity for the rest of the day.
The doctor greeted us and alternated between various lenses, questioning which I preferred. It was a timely process, and the paranoia that I selected the wrong one nagged at me. He then explained that he would issue quarterly lenses. As a result of my contraindications, he predicted that it would take a couple of attempts in order to generate one that is sufficient and a couple weeks to develop each. Furthermore, there is unwavering uncertainty lurking within me of my capabilities to put the lenses on. My eyes are so sensitive and untrusting. Applying mascara fails!!
However, I know I have to give it a shot. Don’t be afraid of failure! It’s better to know that you did everything in your power.
New Year’s- is a joyous occasion, welcoming the new calendar year, ignited by partying.New Year’s resolutions are pondered and formulated. Sometimes including a course of action. But what if this is the incorrect approach or only captures part of the purpose?
On New Year’s day, I stumbled upon this quote highlighting how we tend to develop resolutions altering ourselves. It suggested that instead we should resolve to be ourselves. Whether we realise it or not, there are moments that are not authentic, suppressing a view, hiding an interest, shifting personality to blend in, etc. Perhaps analysing our tendencies, behaviors and patterns of concealing is the first step, followed by conscious effort to not crumble under influence and succumb to conformity.
One thing I fail to digest is hoping, praying, manifesting for an abundant 2023 (or whatever the upcoming year is). Circumstances won’t magically do a 180. Money won’t suddenly appear. That job won’t automatically sprout. Time is constant, independent. You don’t wake up on 1 January with a new life; it’s the same as 31 December, It’s just numbers that were somehow invented. In order to generate the desired change, utmost perseverance is crucial. Simply waiting won’t yield anything.
Anticipation is like a fly, relentless nagging at you-pestering. Despite all efforts to displace the nuisance, the buzzing is persistent. This is present when I meet my friends, the dread of the arrival of activities I lack the ability to execute. On a couple occasions different friends would suggest a day at the water park. Although the water park is very enjoyable, I have difficulties stepping into the mini pool of water (due to the height) that foreshadows the slide. My struggles extend on some rides, following catapulting into the water, clinging and scrambling on board the raft thing is gruelling.
Not only are qualms prevalent, but the actual catastrophe has emerged. There was this night, my friends yearned to braid hair on the rooftop. It wasn’t the one at the most elevated height, yet still at ¾. A whole ordeal arose. Igniting the path to the window sill, there were trinkets scattered about, including the area adjacent to the sill; it was a wonderful addition to the dolour. Bunglingly, I skimped, awkwardly lifting a foot over the edge, clasping onto the side of the window, and atrociously plopped down on the rooftop. Upon climbing back into the house was even more uncoordinated and dishevelled. I unsteadily bent forward as to avoid breaking my head. Proceeding a failed attempt, I resorted to sitting down and heaving myself in. Noticing that state I was in, my friends pulled me in as I flopped onto the ground.
The moral here is that it is perfectly acceptable and even beneficial to ask for help which I need to learn as well. Your friends or anyone present will gladly assist and it aides them in better understanding you. It is okay to be disorderly. As cliche as it sounds, no one else is ruminating about it like you.
Encompassed to entirety and wherever you glance, the sinking, dejecting pulse courses through you, as you wishfully marinate in everyone relishing what you desperately desire. And it is incredibly heart wrenching when it is out of your control. At the age of 18, I resentfully watch kids one after another receive their driver’s license. All my friends are in possession of one. I celebrate their accomplishment but raging below the surface is angst- lamented that I will never get to show off that damn card with my photo plastered and the words driver’s license neatly printed. The other day, in school, senior superlatives were introduced. Of course, the painstaking presence of driving was included: worst and best driver. I felt my heart get heavy, whilst everyone mulled over who would win, cheerfully adding suggestions and further elaborating with stories. Frustration rampaged me; this yearning is always lingering on my mind- a nuisance that can’t be rid, sending me to tears.
I have to remind myself that ruminating about that supplies zero asset; it only stirs longing. It doesn’t bring me any closer to the aspiration. If it is not in my control, it is utterly useless to dwell on the matter. What’s that one thing that isn’t in your control but nonetheless occupies your emotion? Comment down below! And together we can strive to look past it. I know it’s not easy but in the long run we will appreciate it.
Hello guysss. In this blog, I would like to discuss the daily struggles pertaining to the necessities carried out in preparation for the day.
Several tasks are feasible but the proficiency is lacking. I physically am capable of putting on a shower cap. However, clipping/tying the hair in a swift motion, fluidly slipping it on is unattainable. Rather I usher my hair forward where it covers my face, shakily place the shower cap, and cram the remaining hair in, generating a lopsided, shaggy appearance. Although, it is effective for the most part excluding the remnants. Changing is perfectly doable and adequately executed. But the pace is compromised. I’m not painfully slow; a delay occurs though. In order to wear my pants, a sitting position is substantive as my balancing is that of a penguin. Tying my shoes is plausible. Over the years, I developed a technique to tie my shoes, deviating from the standard methods. Nonetheless, it is time consuming and results in a floppy form. Thus, shortly after, it crumbles and disintegrates. Altogether someone else lacing them is unquestionably more efficacious: once and done. Unfortunately there are actions that are merely inconceivable. Brushing my hair- a monkey without a doubt could accomplish the duty, yet not me. If I settle on keeping my hair open for the day, then we are gucci; I can forcefully rid the tangles…(wouldn’t be surprised if I break a brush) and finish the look with a headband. Conversely, on days when my hair is oily, dry or overall just a hot mess, and tying it aids in disguising the disaster, that is where the predicament ensues. Without somebody to complete this for me, it’s a lost cause; I would interact in public with weedy hair.
Accepting your faults whilst not faltering into anguish over them is critical. If there is nothing you can do to shift the reality, carping and brooding over it, only further entraps you into a downward spiral. Instead focus and appreciate your attributes. Everyone could work on that.
Yo guysss, what’s up? A while back I shared part of my journey striving to obtain the ability to walk. Despite the doctors ruling that it was completely unattainable, encouraging and recommending to search for an adequate wheelchair. Today, I will recount the remaining sector of my path to achieving walking independently. If you already have not read my first one, here it is: https://banaanyablogs.org/2022/06/02/the-doctors-said-id-never-walk/
This next part I have a distinct recollection of. I was presented with the dilemma of choosing between this pink cane, taking the shape of a tripod in which I undoubtedly despised or the foreboding, baleful option to walk completely independent. I remember being in my parents room with the cane positioned in front of me. I yearned for the continuation of the usage of my walker as it was familiar. But to accomplish extraordinary achievements you have to inevitably venture into the unknown, straying away from comfort. The vibrant pink colour was like a ploy, luring me in. Yet to lug that around seemed unwieldy. Then there was the choice with no g a stepsupport, daunting indeed. I would have to balance purely on my own. Quite a predicament I was entangled in. Ultimately, upon brief deliberating, my little 4.5 year old mind settled on walking freely. Screw that device. An onerous feat awaited.
Carpet-that was the preliminary step. Soft enough to not completely scar me, both physically and mentally. Using two feet to keep me grounded without the addition of technology was disastrous. I would apply the pressure to reach standing position just to come crashing down to the carpet. Attempt proceeding attempt yielded the same ramification. Tears would be streaming down my face. My knees scratchy with the excessive contact with the carpet, Oh lord my fate was sealed. But resilience, me and my parents persisted. Gradually, one foot was placed in front of another, marking the first step. A little flame of hope flickered. Now we knew it was possible. One foot, the next foot, the first foot, and again the second. One step transcended into several.
Hardwood floor- the secondary measure. More dangerous but not extreme: baby steps. My balance had unquestionably ameliorated. I managed to execute multiple strides at a time. However, mastery stretched in the far distance. My knees were bruised and throbbing. What value was it only having the ability to wobble a few steps? Once again hopelessness sank in, amassed to another level. The fact that I was capable of walking but not to a beneficial extent stirred deep aggravation and exasperation. Hours after hours progress became recognisable. A respectable number of paces were achieved before collapsing. The flame of hope surged.
The neighbourhood-the following undertaking. A bit more perilous but reasonable. Some houses, trip, and a fall. That was the pattern set in motion. My knees were battered in cuts. My legs aching; they had been exposed to too much. Traversing down a singular street in one stroke failed to occur. More tears were shed. Even though I was only 5 years of age, I didn’t fail to capture passerbys’ sneak one extra stare, instigating me to squirm and act oblivious. Now I glare back with greater potency, Once again, through utter determination, countless time and injuries, notable improvement was brought to light. I was gleefully striding about. The flame of hope bursted into a fire. Of course my form was blemished and distorted.
However it’s the course of action that really defines success, not the product. Some have it easier than others. The doctors said I’d never walk. And despite that harrowing statement, I implemented such perseverance and intrepidity. I would like to thank my parents for their tenacity. Although my technique of walking is abnormal, at least it suffices. I’ve learned to disregard the disparaging remarks. They lack the understanding of what I’ve been through. And therefore don’t immediately resort to criticise someone prior to awareness the whole story <3