I remember that as a youngster, I worried about how others might see me, whether it be just a wheelchair, or my individual self. I was concerned that my person would become a distant memory amid the eyes of those who didn’t care, but within the burdens of my mind, eventually realized I had forgotten who I already was. Now, I’m too old to care about such childish things, too tired to explain that I’m someone to everyone … and not to say I’m better. I’ve been through so much in the not so many years of my life that stares and internal hostility leave me unfazed. These circumstances, these challenges make you grow up too fast, the way reality sinks in like quicksand. Duchenne messes with your head. It forces you to reflect upon a million thoughts in mere seconds in comparison, and you have to try your damnedest to let go and find a little normalcy, so much so that you can hardly catch a breath. To be genuinely positive, whatever that means anymore, you must close your eyes and surrender to the darkness in order to get away from that same darkness. When you don’t even possess the physical strength to punch the walls in from all the frustration, you become more, and I am more, because my mind is a journey that holds infinite facets, where potential bitterness has the capacity to transform into courage and determination. Inside this other realm of existence, I learned that every emotion is a source of energy. If you harness it, freedom is only in a blink of an eye. So no, it matters none how strangers think, see, or speak. I don’t need to care about being judged or made fun of because I define myself according to who I am. All I can do is my part, and encourage those I may have the means to influence to be strong as steel and soft as butter; knowing when to care, and when not to. My name is Ricky, and I’m an aspiring gentleman who only started smiling at frowns not too many years ago.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 23:05:15 +0000
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