OK Vs. Alright

I find it so, insanely, hard to temper being a person born of strength with some major physical vulnerabilities. I deny those vulnerabilities until the force their way into the open. I try so hard to maintain the illusion of pure strength and fortitude. I don't want to "get by." I am a woman determined to thrive. The thought of anything else is infuriating.

I had a seizure at work the other day. There was no denying that. People saw that first hand. I wish that I could just pretend that it never happened. It is an event that has drawn unwanted, and undeserved attention to myself. I want the attention to always be for my accomplishments. I often feel like those fleeting moments of praise are because I've accomplished "in spite of and not because of. I showed up to work on time, the day after the seizure. I got accolades for that. Aren't I supposed to show up on time for work? I did nothing special.

There is a difference in "OK" and "Alright." I find OK has  a sense of complacency weaved within it. Alright is the answer I choose to have.

I'm Alright with my seizures
I'm alright being back at work.
I'm alright with my vulnerabilities.
I'm working on being Alright with my physical abnormalities.

Alright means there was never an issue. Alright is where everyone starts. "OK" is where one ends up. I started my life as ALRIGHT, and regardless of what happens in the middle I will not reach the end of my life "OK"

My physical truth is not my personal truth.

I found myself in an elevator with a woman who was disabled, herself, this morning. We were both on or way to a radiology office. She turned, and looked at me and Good job Dick Tracey, where did you park your car?" I didn't get mad, I felt a tremendous amount of compassion for her. She obviously was only capable to recognize physical truth. That means that she can only see her own physical truth, as well.

I try so hard not to allow my physical truth to become my personal truth. That's harder than it sounds. How do you not become what you so obviously are? I still don't have the answer to that. At my very basic understanding of the concept, I live everything else ...

No balls no babies

... I love that quote. That's my motto of sorts. I want success and I'm 4' tall. Without guts I get nowhere, and that's been something I've known since I was little. Therefore, I can, and do out work just about any one person.

I Don't believe in luck and I don't believe in mistakes. Win lose or draw it was all my choice to decide. Many people argue this point with me, but if you really think about it you'll see it's true. No matter what your situation the right preparation, determination and work will land you exactly where you want to be! If I waited for luck to get me here I'd still be waiting! Let's face it "luck" really wasn't on my side to begin with. I decided at 5 or 6 to compete and win every single day. Losing was never an option. Because I never saw that as an option, failure was obsolete.

When  you're of my stature, and my background you have to live "big." Everything I do and say has a "little extra." I tend to be over the top from time to time. That may be to my detriment. But who knows? Again that has been a CHOICE I made.

I don't mind being over the top. (after all I studied theatre!) I like to stand out on my own terms. I like to control how and when I'm on display. If that means dancing in the aisle at Target, or singing show tunes to a manager ... No balls no babies.

I've recently been told to stop trying so hard. Maybe I do work too hard, and place too much pressure on myself. However, slowing down and relying on luck to move things along organically is not a choice, I know, I'm ready or capable of making ...

I can't

As I watch my two-year-old neice grow and change, I quickly realized that we are at the "I can't" stage in her development. The minute she tries something that may be difficult for her, or she fails at: her first response is to whine "I can't. The term I can't is born out of frustration, and simply translates into "I'm tired of trying."

Don't we all feel like that at some point? To see that demonstrated by a two-year- old makes me so angry. I quickly deny her help and say " yes you can." She eventually becomes more frustrated that her pleas are going ignored, than she is by the task at hand that she quickly reaches her victory.

I can't was never a part of my, daily, vocabulary. Mainly because it was not option. I refused to give myself that "out." In and out of hospitals, I clearly saw children who were given that as an option. Some rightfully needed it, some were just given it and relied on it. I didn't want to be the kid who didn't do anything because "I can't" I saw the depth of regret that could turn into. At six and seven I knew that I wanted to be more than what I was. I wanted to play with more than I was given.

I had a desire to transcend far beyond the limitations thrust upon me.So life was not about "I can't" it was like I have to.

My neice got me thinking are we ever limited? Or do we limit ourselves. I believe the later to be true. So then the question arises why would we limit ourselves? I think the biggest part of human nature is to avoid failure. That has exsisted since the dawn of time, and not something easy to evolve out of. To give up feels much better than failing. We control giving up. Failure is something that "happes." While giving up is something that we decide.

A conscious decision to continue, in spite of adversity has to be made, and commited to. How many of us have said we can do something, only to concede the moment we feel out of our depth? I think we would all admit we have been guilty of that at one poit or another.I'm no exception. However, I know if I can't than it wont ever happen. That's not acceptable.

I went to the grocery store the other day, and that was far more frustrating than I wanted it to be. I felt like everything I wanted was, about 2 feet over my head. I stood in asile waiting for people to come down and join me in the asile. Mom's with children, men who had no clue what they were in the store for, and store employees were all targeted by me. "Can you hand me blueberries?" "Can you see what flavors of hummus are on that top shelf?" Some looked at me. like I was insane. Some people were clearly uncomfortable with my request. I thought to myself "I need to ask you to hand me a box of waffles, but you're uncomfortable.?"

I left the strore frustrated, because I was there almost 2 hours, and only bought 60 dollars worth of groceries. As I was loading the bags into my car, 1 at a time, a man approached. He said "M'aam Can I help you?" I almost said "No, I got it." Which is my typical default response. Instead I accepted his offer. It was so nice to be offered  be help, and not feel like I was begging for help. He put all my bags in my car, and I pulled out with the biggest smile on my face!

Irony wrappeed in a contradiction

People call me "strong" and that sounds like nails on a  chalk board to me. I'm not "strong." (Or at least I'm not the personification of what I view as strong.) I falter, I crack, and allow myself to break. I feel things, and am unable to summon the words to express so  I push it down and wait for those feelings to subside. I grapple with moments, days, at times, weeks of feeling like I failed. I still find myself beating up for "falling short."

I liked being seen as "tough." I love telling my scar stories. Anyone who provides a listening ear will hear of all 91 broken bones, the blood and guts of a heart surgery, and the barely escaped with my life Brain surgery. The irony is that the things I feel validate my toughness are the very things that render my body weak and easily broken. How do I find the one ounce of toughness in my most fragile moments.

Courage ...

I draw on courage and my fearlessness. The outside world interpurts that as strength when, in fact, they are two totally separate things. I gave up strenth years ago, because that didn't get me anywhere. If I had a nickle for everytime someone told me "hang in there kiddo it will be better." I would be a self-made millionaire. I also would not have done ANYTHING. I'd still be holding on, with all my "strength" waiting for things to be "better" Things got alot worse long before they began to get better. I learned real young only courage can move you beyond your circumstance. All the strength in the world is useless if you're afraid. So lived by falling, and jumping back up KNOWING I would immediately fall again. I fell, and fell and fell. I had casts removed only to break something else on my way out the doctor's office. So I took a deep breath got a spaking new cast and tried walking out the doctor's office again. I taught myself to rollerblade while only being able to walk using crutches. And yes ... I fell ... alot!

I navigate the world staring at people's crotches, drive a car, while under treatment for seizures, walk through dark parking lots knowing I can fit inside a trunk, break bones and still take a jiu-jitsu class, wrestle with my neice and want to sky dive. I find myself more afraid of aliens, than any of my real life "dangers"

I'm composed of 2/3 courage and 1/3 fearless stupidity. However, this cocktail has gotten me through 30 years. I guess it works. It's so ingrained in me that I couldn't stop living like this, even if I tried.

So please save words like "strong." for people truly deserving. I'm just a woman, who started as a girl with an incredibly fragile body. A girl who over compensated for that by throwing caution to the wind and live each day, fearlessly believing that each time you fall it only hurts for a short time. Eventually you stop fearing falling and then it virtually happens without you even noticing ....