Ecdysis
MyPTSD Pro
So, in my family growing up, being disabled was "not an option".
I'm not even sure entirely what that means...
I think if I'd been physically disabled... it would've meant even more abuse and neglect.
Because my disability wasn't physical, I was told to basically "suck it up" and "cover it up" and "hide it" so that I could "pass" as non-disabled.
That mindset sits so deep.
I think because one of my parents was narcissitic, the intensity of this runs especially deep. This idea that you need to be a "model child" to be paraded around as part of that parent's narcissitic madness...
Ever since I left home, I've had to be a workaholic and an achievaholic, in terms of getting by and surviving and so I've tried to ignore/ suppress/ cover-up my disability as much as possible ever since.
Part of that is also keeping PTSD as much of a secret as possible - only ever letting a handful of my closest friends know.
For a few years now, I've been at the total low-point of my life in terms of functioning. I've not been coping at all and my depression has gotten worse and worse so that I'm no longer able to work and not even coping with stuff like household chores anymore... Last year I finally caved and applied for an assisted living programme (which I'm also keeping a secret from all but a tiny handful of friends).
I'm finding it sooo, sooo hard to identify as disabled... And if I do, then all that ableism from my family of origin comes up and it feels like doom... like the world as I know it is going to end if I come to terms with, face, accept and identify as being disabled.
The thing is, it's not longer an option for me to cover it up and compensate for it so that "no one can tell". I'm beyond that now. Not an option. And as I'm nearing 50, I'm feeling like that window has well and truly passed... That crazy-invincible-energy of youth that used to carry me through the most difficult situations... that's gone... I'm entering middle age and my energy levels are never going to be at a level again where I can pass as non-disabled.
In a way, I'm relieved about that. It's been beyond exhausting carrying that legacy and that "task" and using up almost all my energy on trying to fulfill a basically unfulfillable task. So there's some relief at finally being able to drop that and say "that's simply not my job anymore".
But I'm really struggling with the identifying as disabled thing...
It's stupid, because I know a lot of folks with a disability and I know they're good people... It's not that my own brain thinks "disability is a bad thing".
But my conditioning, my childhood programming runs so deep that I seem to be convinced that disability is a dangerous/ unsafe thing... at least for me... and that bad things will happen... like doom type things will happen...
It feels like some family taboo... That there must not be any disabled people in our family, or else... Which is insane...
I'm not even sure entirely what that means...
I think if I'd been physically disabled... it would've meant even more abuse and neglect.
Because my disability wasn't physical, I was told to basically "suck it up" and "cover it up" and "hide it" so that I could "pass" as non-disabled.
That mindset sits so deep.
I think because one of my parents was narcissitic, the intensity of this runs especially deep. This idea that you need to be a "model child" to be paraded around as part of that parent's narcissitic madness...
Ever since I left home, I've had to be a workaholic and an achievaholic, in terms of getting by and surviving and so I've tried to ignore/ suppress/ cover-up my disability as much as possible ever since.
Part of that is also keeping PTSD as much of a secret as possible - only ever letting a handful of my closest friends know.
For a few years now, I've been at the total low-point of my life in terms of functioning. I've not been coping at all and my depression has gotten worse and worse so that I'm no longer able to work and not even coping with stuff like household chores anymore... Last year I finally caved and applied for an assisted living programme (which I'm also keeping a secret from all but a tiny handful of friends).
I'm finding it sooo, sooo hard to identify as disabled... And if I do, then all that ableism from my family of origin comes up and it feels like doom... like the world as I know it is going to end if I come to terms with, face, accept and identify as being disabled.
The thing is, it's not longer an option for me to cover it up and compensate for it so that "no one can tell". I'm beyond that now. Not an option. And as I'm nearing 50, I'm feeling like that window has well and truly passed... That crazy-invincible-energy of youth that used to carry me through the most difficult situations... that's gone... I'm entering middle age and my energy levels are never going to be at a level again where I can pass as non-disabled.
In a way, I'm relieved about that. It's been beyond exhausting carrying that legacy and that "task" and using up almost all my energy on trying to fulfill a basically unfulfillable task. So there's some relief at finally being able to drop that and say "that's simply not my job anymore".
But I'm really struggling with the identifying as disabled thing...
It's stupid, because I know a lot of folks with a disability and I know they're good people... It's not that my own brain thinks "disability is a bad thing".
But my conditioning, my childhood programming runs so deep that I seem to be convinced that disability is a dangerous/ unsafe thing... at least for me... and that bad things will happen... like doom type things will happen...
It feels like some family taboo... That there must not be any disabled people in our family, or else... Which is insane...