Love Stinks

So, today is my thirty-first birthday. I'm feeling more run down, old, and exhausted than ever. I realize thirty-one is nothing, in terms of the average lifespan; but my life is anything from but average. I always thought by now, I'd be married with children. Before my accident, I was living on my own as a teacher, and had met the love of my life. He made me happier than anyone else I'd ever been with, and I truly believe we would still been together, if my accident never happened.

It's days like these that make me reflect on my life, my mistakes and my regrets, more so than ever. My birthday has become a day a dread, because I know the emotional mess it makes me. Every year I spend paralyzed is another year wasted, and so many wonderful missed opportunities. I had a terrific life, before my accident and experienced a lot in the first (almost) twenty-five years of my life. I know exactly what I'm missing out on, and how much better life could be. You can't miss what you never had, but I had nearly everything I'd ever wanted. Now, I feel stuck as a spectator to life, and watch everyone else around me enjoying the things I want most desperately, but can't have because of my injury.

Every birthday is a bittersweet reminder of what I don't have, and wish I did. Every year I watch more and more and more friends get married, and have babies. Very few people understand what my day to day life is like, and how very limited I am from doing things. It's easy to say "you can still do everything everyone else can, just in a different way." Those same people that say that, often don't consider all the work and effort that goes into doing the simplest of things. Everything I choose to do, requires the intervention of others. It gets tedious & annoying. Not to mention, there are just certain things I CAN'T do, no matter how you look at it. I can't have a normal sex life. I'm cut off from 90% of my body. Having someone else go through the motions of something I can't even feel, or enjoy seems frustrating & pointless to me. I can't experience a normal pregnancy, or care for a child. I can't even care for myself. Few people understand the isolation, and emptiness that I feel.

This past week, one of my ex-boyfriends (Mike) got married. Another just got engaged (Eric). It's not like I'm still IN love with either of them, but they will always hold special places in my heart. We were friends (and hung out from time to time, before my injury) and although I'm genuinely happy for both of them, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. It's been hard enough watching all the rest of my friends get married and start families, but it hit me really hard to know they are now both part of that list as well. Obviously, as ex-boyfriends & girlfriends we shared a special bond, beyond normal friendship. During our time together (with each of them) we had fantasized of a future together. It seems silly that it bothers me so much, but I think my situation has made me hypersensitive. If I were married and living a normal life, I probably wouldn't have given either situation a second thought. I would have been able to genuinely celebrate with them. However, that's not the case. In fact, I feel lonelier than ever...

I wasted a lot of time (almost six years) with someone (Joey), that I totally regret. I had lost touch with nearly all my friends during my time with Joey. He was very jealous, and controlling and I was foolish enough to put up with it. I left him the year before my accident. During that time I got back in touch with both Mike & Eric, since we shared mutual friends. It was great catching up on old times, and a being part of their lives again. They had each moved on and were dating other people, which was fine. It was just nice reminiscing and spending time with our mutual group of friends (two of my closest friends-that we all share-Christy & Moody). After the way I had cut ties with everyone, I had been thankful they were willing to let me be a part of their lives again.

Life moved on, and we all remained friends. Then I met the love of my life, Jimmy. We dated for five months before my accident. It was a whirlwind romance. Our time together was by far, the happiest of my life. When I got hurt, we had been only days away from moving in together. Instead, everything we had was violently ripped away. We tried our hardest to keep our relationship going, despite my accident, but it collapsed after six months of battling with an impossible situation. He had been forced to move back to PA. I had been stuck in a nursing home; completely crushed in every way. Although it killed us both, we decided to go our separate ways.

Over the past six years, I've never stopped loving him, or been able to get past what we had. My love for him, has kept me from being able to open my heart up to anyone else. For a long while (the first two years) we stayed out of contact with one another. During that time, I tried to force him to the back of my mind, to dull the pain. Then in 2008 we got back in touch, and tried to stay in contact as friends. We corresponded from time to time, and talked on the phone, and he came to visit me one time. All the while, he was in a serious relationship with someone else. Eventually, it just became too painful for me. No matter how hard I try, I just can't see him as a friend. Having him in my life, with her in the background, felt unfair to both of us. I decided it would be best if he let me go, and live his life without me.

It sucked, and I felt like I had lost him all over again. On the other hand, I had to face reality. He had moved on, and loved someone one else. I was only deluding myself into thinking there was any chance left, for a future for us. Being just friends was intolerable, and I've been through enough pain & loss, to not want to torture myself further. As much as losing Jimmy has hurt me, I've never held it against him, or thought less of him. I don't know if I'd be able to deal with being with him, if he were paralyzed. There's so much change & sacrifice that comes along with living with paralysis. I certainly don't want this life for myself, and feel selfish expecting him to give up a normal life, when he has a choice.

Long story short, Jimmy ended up breaking things off with his ex-girlfriend (not exactly sure why & am not going to presume it had anything to do with me). He contacted me, letting me know he was single and he has been back in my life for the past several months. He says he regrets leaving me, and that he does love me. Although that's music to my ears, he's not saying he's willing to try to be more than friends. It's all very confusing. On one hand he says he loves me, and wants to be a part of my life. On the other hand, he's not willing to make a commitment to me. For me, there's only two logical ways I can interpret his mixed messages. One could be, he genuinely loves me (as a friend), but is not IN love with me and wants the freedom to be able to sleep around and have a normal life, in that regard. The second possibility could be, he IS still in love with me, but is just scared.

He's said before that he wouldn't want to make any promises to me, unless he was certain he'd never want to leave again. My brain understands that, but my heart and body are exhausted. I feel as though I'm on the verge of "checking out" on this life and have absolutely NOTHING left to lose. If it were up to me, I'd want to give it my all, because I know my time is short anyway. I feel like I've been so hurt, and lost so much in these past six years, that I have nothing left to lose, and can't possibly be hurt more than I already have been. I'm trying my best to enjoy our time together, but it hurts knowing that there is a distance between us, that didn't used to exist. I feel his hesitation, but don't know the true reasons behind it.

What hurts the most, is feeling like I've never been good enough, for any man to want to be with me forever. I was with Joey for almost six years, with no ring to show for it. Mike was my first love, and although we talked about getting married, we were just naive kids. Eric never seemed sure of anything (and I'm so happy he finally found someone that makes him truly happy). Jimmy & I talked of marriage before the accident, and I do believe we'd be happily married- if I never got hurt. He even wanted to propose to me when I was clinging to life in I.C.U. and at Kessler. Looking back though, he was just just desperately grasping and scared of losing me. Neither of us understood how serious, or life changing my injury was at that point.

Here I am, thirty-one years old and feel completely isolated, devoid of affection and alone. I'm not talking about the love my family and friends give me. I'm referring to a mate, a companion, a second half, a soulmate. I'm missing that in my life, and feel very deprived not having that special someone. What sucks even worse, is that no matter how hard I try to not project my own feelings onto other people, I feel as though Jimmy should be that person; or at least I wish he was. Obviously I can't force him to feel, or do anything he doesn't want to. To push, or insist that he commit to me would defeat the point entirely. I want him to love me, for me, regardless. He either does, or he doesn't.

What really sucks, is that my whole life, friends, family and tons of men have told me how "special" and "beautiful" I am. I've heard those words a million times over. Everyone that has claimed to love me, at some point in my life has said, "You're an amazing person; beautiful, inside and out." Even since my accident, people have said those words to me. However, they all sound like hollow, meaningless words. If they were true, surely I could find someone to be with me. Then again, I know I'm so stuck on Jimmy, that I don't give anyone else a chance. However, he's one of the people in my life that is guilty of saying those exact words to me. At the end of the day though, words are just words. I often wonder if people just say things to make me feel good, or to give me hope, for my hopeless situation. It doesn't make me feel good to hear how "amazing" I am, unless those words are backed up with action.

I feel like no matter who I've ever wanted to be with, I've never been good enough for them. I'm supposedly this great, talented, amazing, beautiful person, but yet that's still not good enough to want to take a chance, or for anyone to have wanted to spend their life with me. I feel like with almost every relationship I've ever had, there's always been a "but" factor. "You're beautiful, but..." "You're terrific, but..." "You're my soulmate, but..." That hurts and really sucks. It makes all the pretty words, and thoughtful sentiments feel empty and false. I mean, if you truly believed someone was your "soul mate" wouldn't you at least try giving them a second chance?


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Foolish Girl

Innocent dreams, of a foolish girl
Blinded by a false sense of security
No control, no planning could ever make it be

One mistake, shattered lives
Body broken, beyond repair
Life forever changed, thrown into despair

Dreams disintegrate before my eyes
All I can do is lay and cry
Losing everything I've loved; what was once mine is gone

Can't repair the damage done
No matter how hard I try, how loud I scream
Life is harsh, cruel, and mean

I'm left inside a broken shell
Forced to live within my personal hell
Wishing I would wake from this nightmarish spell

My life is not a dream
Every day I'm faced with harsh realities
All I want to do is run

Devoid of joy, of hope, of fun
Surrounded by everything I want, so out of reach
Imprisoned in this lonely keep

Deprived of touch, of warmth and affection
Living has become it's own infliction
Every day, harder than the day before

I can't take this pain anymore
I long for everlasting sleep
I just want to be at peace






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Life Is Unpredictable & Full Of Irony

Today marked the six year "anniversary" of my accident. It's certainly not an anniversary worth celebrating, but one that is impossible to ever forget, or ignore. This year brought with it a twist of surprise, and added sentimental value. Six years ago, one simple mistake, would change my life forever. If my accident has taught me anything, it is how very unpredictable life can be.

This year, marks the first completion of the weekly cycle. Meaning, this is the first year, since my accident, where the date, and day it falls on, is the same as on my accident. My accident happened in the very early hours, of Sunday, June 5th, 2005. This year, June 5th, also landed on a Sunday. Last night, I couldn't help but feel an added twinge of grief, as I replayed the memories of that "fateful" Saturday night, where my life got flipped upside down. To this day, I'm unsure of the precise time of my accident, but know the first hours of that Sunday, were spent in the Emergency room, terrified of what was happening, and in shock of what I'd done. That weekend, my last hours on my feet, and my first few hours paralyzed, will forever be etched into my mind. It is a day I wish I could scrub from memory.

Ever since the moment my neck snapped, I have been replaying those last few memories, on my feet, in my head, and fantasizing how different my life might be, if I had never gone to that party, never drunk, or never dove. I have reviewed, replayed, relived, analyzed, questioned, and scrutinized every second, of that final day on my feet. I have beat myself up, and find it hard to be forgiving, to myself, for my foolish actions. I have wondered, "What if..." to a million different scenarios, and have searched in vain for reasons, or self explanations, for why I chose to do, what I did. The lists go on, and on: we should've never gone to that party, I should've never drank, I should've had more to eat, I should've waited to go swimming, I should've used the ladder, I should've never dove. Each action, seems more stupid, worse and irresponsible than the one before it. The truth is, there are no reasons, or good explanations, and even if there were, it wouldn't change the outcome.

Although I never intended to do harm to myself, or anyone, my actions that day, have caused me, and my loved ones a tremendous amount of pain and grief. The combination of many common mistakes, resulted in a gigantic disaster. One moment I was happily, enjoying a self sufficient adult life, the next I was crippled beyond saving. I went from having everything I wanted, to my worst nightmare, overnight. While my life has been the most permanently effected, my accident has had a rippling effect, on everyone that was closest to me, at the time of the accident.

My accident created a horrible strain on my relationships, with many of the people I love. The sheer magnitude of loss, the fear of the uncertain, and the reality of the irreversible nature of my injury, effected everyone I love. The Christina I was, died the day of my accident, and it's been a very bumpy rode, living a completely new reality, being a completely new person. My accident has changed the way I can interact with the people I love, and has forced limitations on what I can do, and how much of a role I can play, in the lives of my family and friends. I've had to come to terms with my new life, and they've had to come to terms with the new me.

My family and friends have at times been my biggest obstacle, while at other times my biggest supporters. I have had many fights, falling outs, and disagreements, with the people closest to me. Thankfully, most of my relationships have stood the test of time, and have whethered this storm, called paralysis. Most of my loved ones have stayed right along side me, through laughs and tears, through thick and through thin. Although they might not all get along with one another, or see eye to eye, they have put aside their differences and rallied behind me. I am so grateful for my family and friends. I feel so blessed, to have so many people that love, and support me.

The rode has been especially difficult, these last couple of years, and I know for sure, I'd be long dead, if it were not for the many loving hands and hearts, that prop me up, and give me strength. There are a few people, that I have lost through this all, and for them, all I can say is sorry. I wish I knew a way to fix my mistakes, or how to repay them. It makes me sad, to think I am missing out, on being a part of their lives, and vice versa. All I can do, is try my best, with whatever time I have left.

2,190 days ago, I thought by now I'd be married to Jimmy, we'd have a couple of kids and I'd be a veteran teacher. I never thought for a moment, that life could throw me a curve ball, or that life would not fall into place, like I had planned. I thought I'd be healthy, and able to care for myself, until I was old and grey. The future seemed brighter than ever, and full of a million possibilities. I was the happiest I had ever been.

2,191 days ago, my entire life was crumbling in front of me, and my future was terrifyingly uncertain. I was newly paralyzed. I was vulnerable and scared. I was in and out of consciousness, and on the verge of death. I knew I might lose everything. I was in tremendous pain, and utter shock. I couldn't imagine a worse situation, a worse moment. I prayed with all my being, that somehow things would be ok. My loved ones were fighting, blaming, and fracturing. I didn't know who to turn to, or what to do.

Today, was not how ever imagined it to be; not during my best, or worst days. I spent the day with Jimmy, my exboyfriend. It was bittersweet, and strangely ironic, spending today with him. It was a mix of extreme high, and extreme low emotions, for both of us, as we remembered a day that changed both our lives, forever. Although we are no longer together, we will always love each other, and share a special bond. He is still one of my closest, dearest friends, with whom I feel I can be most open. He is the one that saved my life, that night, and pulled me from the water. Even though we split (romantically) months after my accident, we have been perpetually drawn back to one another, over these past six years. My accident has changed us both in profound ways, but despite everything, we share a bond, unlike any other.

Six years ago, I had bought him a birthday cake, that we had planned to share together, that coming Monday (6/6/2005), in celebration of his twenty third birthday. Those plans, like so many others, were ruined, and never came to fruition, because of my accident. I have always felt like my accident stained his birthday, with such a horrible memory. I have always wished things could've turned out differently for us, and that we would be able to share a happy memory, for his birthday. Today that wish came true.

Although today was not the ideal day, of how I wished to be spending Jimmy's birthday, I was thankful nonetheless. I feel blessed to have him back in my life, even if it's just as friends. Of course, I'll always wish for more; for both of us. However, I've come to accept my reality, for what it is, and know no amount of wishing can make it be, what I want it to be. I tried my best to enjoy our time together, despite my longings, and limitations. I tried to savor what I could, and be glad to have sitting beside me.

I don't know what the future holds for me, for Jimmy, or "us" for that matter. I gave up trying to predict the future a long time ago. All I know is that, despite my cold sweats, and relentless chills, I was able to have a few laughs, and enjoy seeing his smile. It felt good, taking a bite into a piece of his birthday cake, and for as much as it stung, to not be able to do everything I wished we could be doing, I am so glad we spent today together. Today was a day of closure, and an opportunity to create a positive memory. I hope we can make a few more happy memories together, before this life is over.


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The Suicide Tourist

I just watched a documentary, called "The Suicide Tourist." It's an very moving, powerful, documentary, chronicling the final days, and eventual suicide, Craig Ewert. The documentary takes place in Europe, and gives an extremely intimate view, of Craig's life, and death. It is a highly thought provoking piece, that raises many questions, about quality of life, and the right to die. Craig himself, is very articulate, and poses some strong arguments, for his decision, and his opinions, on living, suffering, and on dying. I think it offers an exceptional example of why people, OUGHT to have the right to "die with dignity" and demonstrates good arguments, for why euthanasia should be legal, here in the USA. On a whole, the documentary is very tastefully done, and an incredibly brave, and generous contribution to society, on the part of Craig, his wife, and his children. If I could, I would like to thank Craig, and his family, for their willingness to share his story. I have a high respect for his loved ones, in that they supported his difficult decision, and stood by his side (particularly his wife), while he carried out his wishes.

Craig and his wife, both American citizens, had moved to Europe, before he got sick. They had two grown children, and decided they wanted to travel, and live abroad. Craig, who had been a professor of computer science, got a teaching job in England, and he and his wife relocated. His wife started started studying for a Phd, in law, and they were enjoying living their new life together. Everything changed, when Craig started feeling weak, and ultimately was given the ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) diagnosis, and told his best case scenario, was two to five years left, to live. Around six months, after being diagnosed with ALS , and his rapid deterioration in health, Craig decided he wanted to end his life.

He started doing research, and was disappointed to discover that physician assisted suicide, was only legal in three states (I know of Oregon & Washington). He became frustrated by the fact, that people expected him to just accept his fate, and feared more than anything, what life would be like, once he could no longer speak, or communicate. He feared becoming a prisoner, in his own body (which I feel I am- even though I can communicate- and know what it's like to be completely paralyzed, without speech, from my time spent hooked up to a ventilator) and doubted his life, or death would be as "peaceful" as third party accounts described. He brought up an excellent point, that just because a person is "still," to the casual observer, it doesn't mean that the person is at peace. Being trapped, with no way to communicate, and stuck with nothing but your thoughts, and hauntingly painful memories, is anything, but peaceful. I know from experience. It is hell, and pure torture.

Wanting to prevent further suffering, and speed up the process, of his inevitable death, Craig continued his search for a legal way to end his life, and discussed his viewpoint, feelings and fears, with his wife and children. Realizing that he was suffering, and death was fast approaching, his family respected his wishes, and supported him, in carrying them out. He ultimately found out about Dignitas, a clinic in Switzerland, which offers assisted suicide services, to Swiss citizens, and foreigners alike. Knowing he had to be able to swallow the lethal dose of sodium pentobarbital himself, and that his window of opportunity was closing (due to his degenerative disease, and the unpredictable nature of the illness), he set up his appointment, and was accepted, to receive their services.

During the filming of his four, final days, Craig talked about his reasoning behind wanting to commit suicide, and his opinions on it being illegal, throughout the UK, and much of the US. He very poignantly expressed the fact that, many people throw the issue of God, into the matter, as a leading factor, for why there isn't more support, for assisted suicide, and how it is ironically unfair, that "playing God" is seemingly only a matter of contention, when it involves ending a life (and suffering), versus saving it. He pointed out the glaringly obvious distinction, where doctors "play God," by saving newborn babies (through extreme medical intervention) and keep people alive, unnaturally long lifespans, through medicine, and machines, but that it's "ok" to "play God," when it preserves life. He pointed out the fact, that his respirator, had been "playing God," keeping him alive, and couldn't understand why it was only acceptable, to intervene in extending life, but unacceptable to end life, even when there is no hope of cure, and definite suffering present. I too, do not understand, the rationale, behind this unjust form of thinking.

The documentary discusses Swiss law, and says (which I've read in many articles) that because of the fact that euthanasia is illegal, in the UK, and most of the US, the Swiss government has seen a huge influx, in "suicide tourism," and that outside countries (namely the US & UK) have been pressuring Switzerland to reject foreign petitions, to die within their country. This scrutiny has made it difficult, for clinics like Dignitas, to accept any, but the most extreme, and most desperate of cases. Luckily for Craig, he met Dignitas' criteria.

I think it's a shame that people like Craig (and myself) are forced into living with incurable, extreme disabilities, essentially against our will. I can completely relate, to his suffering, his viewpoint on being forced into dependence, and his fears of feeling trapped, and hopeless. It is a shame, that anyone should have to fly half way around the world, and petition a foreign country, to die a dignified death. I think it is cruel, that our society (and the UK) would rather watch people suffer, who would otherwise be dead, if it were not for medical intervention, than to allow us, to choose what we can tolerate, and what we deem, is a life worth living. Why is it so wrong, to offer a peaceful death, to someone who has no means of living, on their own, to whom medical science can offer no cure, and who is, in his/her own opinion experiencing suffering? It makes me angry, that people like me and Craig have to leave the country, or slowly starve ourselves to death, or slowly die from infection, rather than be given a HUMANE, easy alternative, because other people (who have no clue what it's like to be in our shoes) think it's "right," or "wrong."

I know the pain, and loss, that Craig was faced with, and why he decided to end his life. I know, very well, the terror of being completely reliant on others, and the heaviness, of feeling like a burden. I too, know the sadness, and disappointment, of having to express feelings of wanting die, to the people I love, and the pain and guilt, that comes along with deciding I want to give up on life. I know the shame, blame, and guilt, that society at large, and religion, bears down on the individual. It is a horrible situation to be in.

I know what it's like to look into the eyes, of the people I love, and tell them that I feel my life is no longer worth living. I'm living through that pain, right now, and know how hard it is to let go, even though every fiber of my being is exhausted, and wanting to give in, my conscious keeps reminding me, of the pain my death will cause, and I wish I knew a way to avoid hurting the people I love, while at the same time ending my own suffering. I know how horribly frustrating it is, to be a prisoner, within your body. I'm trapped, exactly like Craig, and I understand his desire to escape.

I applaud Craig, for his courage, and his family, for their selflessness, and compassion. I don't think it's wrong, to want to die peacefully, when death is inevitable, and medicine offers no hope, of alleviating a person's pain, and all the future holds, is a life full of suffering. I wish I had a peaceful option; a means of escaping this life, that didn't involve added suffering, and putting my loved ones through a long, painful process, of watching me slowly die, day by day. I wish everyone could watch "The Suicide Tourist", and gain some perspective, on the fact that, sometimes the most humane, compassionate thing to do, is to offer a peaceful death, and to let go, versus sentencing someone (that would otherwise be dead anyway) to a lifetime of suffering.


Video- http://video.pbs.org/video/1430431984

Information about ALS-
http://www.alsa.org/about-als/what-is-als.html

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Not Good Enough

A poem (for lack of a better word. I don't exactly follow a set pattern or style. More like random thoughts...) I wrote a couple of months ago. I rather not go into detail on my thoughts behind it. Interpretation is up to you. Just thought I'd share:


Guess I wasn't good enough
Not enough to be your all
You've cut me deeper than you'll ever know
The pain runs through, down to my soul

I was holding on to a fantasy
All the while, you moved on
False hope
False words

Guess you were never who I thought you were
I just kept holding on
Don't know what I'd do if I were you
Things to good to be true

I was clinging to your memory
Seems I had things wrong
Broken promises
Broken dreams

Guess you were never mine
Thought all I needed was to do my time
The past pushed me on
Those illusions are all gone

You choose your path
My heart snaps
Lost love
Lost hope

Guess it's my fault for losing you
Don't know what I'm going to do
Blame myself for everything 
Can't see what good the future brings

Bittersweet memories
Erase them from my mind
Impossible to stop
Impossible to run away

Acceptance

I often read posts from the Care Cure & Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation forums. Both websites are dedicated to spinal cord injury and paralysis awareness and research towards finding a cure. Both websites also have active online communities of people living with paralysis, caregivers and medical & mental health professionals. It's helpful to be able to read how other people deal with paralysis and know that there are other people that can understand your situation. I contribute my opinion, information and advice from time to time. I'd encourage anyone effected by paralysis to check out both websites.

The other day a person with a C6-C7 injury posted a question that caught my attention. This person was injured nine months ago, and wanted to know how other people cope with their injuries. Specifically, he asked, "those of you that are years out, when did you (if you did) come to terms with your new self? How long did it take for the emotional pain to subside?"

I didn't really ask myself this question until much later in my "recovery." I think I was in complete denial that I wouldn't "get better" for at least a year after my accident. Even now, a part of me wants to reject my "new self." Acknowledging this is it, means admitting that I won't ever get better. That is a hard pill to swallow. My way of "coming to terms" with reality is to essentially grieve for myself. I grieve over the loss of the "old Christina" and try to make the best out of the "Christina" that was left behind. That might sound bizarre to some people, but when every aspect of your life is turned completely upside down, you can't help but feel a sharp divide. One day you're independent, the next day you're dependent. The easiest way for me to deal with my life now, is to not constantly harbor on the past. That life is gone.

I decided to respond to the question about acceptance, because it is something I'm still struggling over today. I'm not so sure I want to accept this life. Here is what I wrote:

I think "acceptance" might not mean the same thing to everyone. When I think of that word, I always think of validation and surrender. On one hand, I acknowledge the fact that my life has changed (C5 complete, 6/5/05) and I recognize that the chances of me ever being "cured" are slim, to none. On the other hand, I will never be satisfied with this life and will fight to change as much as I can. A lot of people use the word acceptance to express being at peace with their situation or the fact that they have given up hope for anything better.

I'm a realist, so I know I'll probably spend the rest of my life in a chair. However, I feel like the moment I accept that this is it, that I'd be giving up hope. Without hope, I'd have no reason to try to keep moving forward. We've been dealt a really crap luck hand of cards and no matter how you look at it, it's always going to be crap, unless something changes. We can choose to do what we can to improve the situation we've been handed and make the best of it, or we can just accept it for what it is and leave it at that. If you accept someone, or something, you are essentially saying, "you/it are/is fine the way it are/is." Some people have learned how to accept their injuries and still move forward (reality is, life moves forward with, or without you) and are content. I will never be content living with paralysis.
It's horrible, what we go through and how we have to live. I wouldn't wish paralysis on anyone. Every adult human being should have the basic freedom of being able to care for themselves and privacy, for modesty. Paralysis steals both of those basic human rights, in addition to the pain & suffering due to all the other aspects of life that change or are lost altogether (physical talents, careers, material possessions, dreams, intimacy, life without medication, relationships, etc.).

No one should have to endure all of the loss and suffering that paralysis can cause. I can understand and accept losing abilities or senses gradually, with age. There are a lot of elderly people that require assistance, but the difference is that they were fortunate enough to live full, "normal" lives. If I were eighty or ninety years old, I'd be able to accept needing help. It's natural to lose or experience a decline in abilities, strengths and senses as part of aging, and getting older. Paralysis is so awful because it steals all that and more, in the matter of seconds. People that suffer a spinal cord injury aren't given a lifetime to deal with gradual change. Paralysis forces you to cope with a lifetime's worth of loss (not even, because there are tons of relatively healthy people in the eighties and up) overnight and robs you of the future you planned.

Another one of the worst aspects of spinal cord injuries is that they are completely random. There are no genetic markers, family history or warning symptoms to an injury. Anyone can get injured at any time and the results/recovery are often just as unpredictable a the injury itself. There is no full proof way to avoid injury and everybody's spinal cord injury is entirely unique to their physiology and the exact way they are injured. In fact, I'm always reminded of this man Gene, that was in rehab with me, at Kessler. Gene had been a fire fighter in NYC. One night, he and five other fire fighters were forced to jump out of a five story building (or be burnt to death). Two of those men died at the scene, while four survived. Obviously, Gene was among the four survivors. He was the last of his group to leave rehab after having survived the fifty foot plus fall, a coma and about eight months of therapy. On his last day of therapy, Gene walked out of Kessler with a cane.I can remember watching him leave, in disbelief. I recall feeling happy for him and jealous of him at the same time. It made no sense to me, how a man could walk after falling five stories and yet, doctors were telling me it was impossible for me to do the same. Contrarily to Gene, I broke my neck in a failed attempt to shallow dive in a swimming pool. I dove from about five and a half feet off the ground. I only spent three months at Kessler and left in a head controlled wheelchair. There is no rhyme or reason when it comes to spinal cord injuries. That is why I feel it is so important to teach people about paralysis. People need to understand how difficult it is to live with paralysis and recognize the fact that they can be injured just as easily, and unpredictably as we were.

It's insanely frustrating that doctors (the scientific community as a whole) still have little to offer in terms of a cure or recovery. It makes me angry and sad to know that right now, someone could be getting injured and doctors won't be able to help that person, any more than they helped me five years ago. It's sometimes baffling to me how far humanity has come and yet, we still have failed to figure out all there is to know about our own bodies. You can't help but want to lash out, at times, over how absurd it all seems and how messed up our priorities seem to be. Scientists say a cure is possible. Since I've been injured, I've heard and read the magic time span of five to ten years, over and over again. Unfortunately, people with injuries decades older than mine have been hearing, hoping and waiting for the same results, for much longer. It makes me sick when I hear researchers say it's just a matter of funding and policies (keep in mind, every country has it's own set of priorities and regulations).The thought that I could be cured (or that I might have never had to endure all that I have the past five years) if it weren't for lack of money and support, makes me want to scream.

At times, I get so fed up and just wish there was someone to give me answers. It all seems so unfair and hard to understand why more isn't being done. Research towards understanding and repairing the central nervous system is promising and on-going, but moving at a snail's pace. Our spinal cord and brains are the most important parts of our body (also extremely complex) and unlocking the keys to repairing damage, would have huge practical applications and alleviate tremendous suffering (even save on spending, in the long run). So why is it that we spend more money on detrimental things, like war and oil? How can our government thinks it's ok to invest billions of dollars to search for microbes in space, while he have millions of people suffering here on Earth? Many of the world's brightest minds are focused on questions of curiosity, versus questions of necessity. While fascinating, I fail to see what practical information that (most of) our space program can hope to provide. It seems like common sense, that humanity would want to understand all there is to know about ourselves, before wasting brainpower and time on other topics.

Sometimes I wonder if our society is the way it is, due to ignorance. Logic tells me that our priorities as a country, stem mostly from greed and selfishness. I think the rest of society just doesn't think about something, unless it effects them personally, or it's constantly in their face. So often I feel like people need to be hit over the head, before they'll pay attention. The majority of people are so self absorbed that it's hard for them to see the bigger picture. I always joke that its as if I see the world through a pair of one hundred year old eyes. Before my accident, I was guilty of being caught up in material things and had a totally different perspective on life. I stressed over stupid, insignificant things and didn't realize how blessed I was. I'd like to think of myself as a kind, helpful person, but before my accident, there was a lot of wonderful things I took for granted. In general, people need to be reminded and need some kind of emotional connection to really care about and support a cause. The out pour of aide and money that went to Haiti the first few weeks after their horrific earthquake is one example, of the potential support people are willing to give, if it touches their heart.

Right now, the support for paralysis research is not enough, especially when you look at diseases like AIDS and Cancer, and compare the amount of support that is generated for those illnesses. I think it's our job (for our own sake as well as others) to be out there, reminding people and/or teaching people about paralysis. It shouldn't have to take a celebrity to raise awareness. Part of the problem is that not enough people are exposed to disabilities, know someone with a severe disability or realize how quickly their life can change. I believe if more people really understood what paralysis is like, that there would be more support towards finding a cure. Naturally, a cure to paralysis would mean wiping out a ton of diseases and disabilities(ALS, MS, MD, Parkinson's, CP, etc.), and would effect millions more than just people with spinal cord injuries.

I can't imagine that my sadness, anger or frustration will ever really go away. I've just learned to channel my feelings into something productive (when I can) and try to find purpose in it all. I also think it's perfectly normal to have up and down days. I'm sure if you think back to your old life, you had your share of bad days too. I often feel like I've been given an impossible task. Although people try their best to be supportive, unless they've lived with paralysis, it's near impossible for them to truly understand. Other people will offer you a ton of advice and try to cheer you up. People mean well, but only you know yourself best. You have to find your own reasons for wanting to keep moving forward. I've gotten better at dealing with certain things over time, but find it hard to believe I'll ever be satisfied or happy in my situation. Don't get me wrong, I still have things to be grateful for and things that make me happy, but it's always bittersweet.

I just take it one day at a time & try to give myself purpose. My family and friends are one reason I try to keep going forward. My hope for a cure is my second reason and my desire to salvage something positive from my accident is my third reason. For right now, those three reasons are enough. If my SCI has taught me anything, it's how fragile life is and how little control we ultimately have over our lives. I still struggle with the past, although I know I can't change it; I miss it. I try not to think ahead too far into the future, because I know how quickly things can change. I set loose goals for myself and take things as they come, day by day. Tomorrow my reasons to keep going might not be enough, or I might find even more. Who knows? Just do your best; that's all you can expect from yourself.

Right now, your quality of life rests heavily on your own choices. You have more power to improve your state of mind and/or your situation than anyone else. I have a website, dedicated to SCI & paralysis awareness. It's not a big deal, or anything, it's just one of my attempts at reaching out to others. It makes me feel good, to do things to raise awareness, even if it's small. It's important to me to feel like I'm doing something productive and that I'm contributing towards a cure. If you're interested, check it out. I hope my advice helps a little.

Sent from my iPad

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Going Out

As many of you know, I don't go out much these days. I basically stay inside all winter, as it's near impossible for me to withstand the cold weather. I'm usually colder than everyone to begin with, so even with the heat on at a normal level, I'm shivering. My inability to move around and poor circulation make it very hard to warm up. Unless it's something very important, I try to avoid making plans with friends that require me to leave my apartment. Luckily, there's plenty of holidays and birthdays to keep me busy. Every year it seems to get a bit harder to meet up with friends, due to the fact that almost all my friends are married and/or have children. Although, I'm grateful that my friends make the effort to visit me, given everyone's hectic schedules. I have a reasonable excuse for staying indoors during the winter; it's the rest of the year that I struggle and to force myself to go out.

Before my accident, I was on the go non stop. I spent a great deal of time in my car and juggled a lot of responsibilities, in addition to hanging out with friends and family. Spring 2005 was probably the most hectic time in my life. I was always pressed for time, but none the less very happy. At the time, I had my full time teaching career, my apartment, traveled back and forth to PA (to visit friends and boyfriend) almost every weekend, put on three art shows for my students, joined a gym, was attending bar tending school, and taking a graduate course. I still managed to go out and enjoy my free time and genuinely looked forward to spending time with my friends and family (especially my boyfriend). I loved to shop. Even when my down time was scarce, I'd hit the mall and do a little shopping. I never ran short on reasons to buy new clothes! Despite all my spending, I was responsible with my finances and had no debt. I just enjoyed giving gifts and having new things. I was not married and had no children and was making a good salary, so I had no regrets treating myself. I'd have to say, I hit the mall about once a week. Buying clothes was my all time favorite thing to do at the mall. I enjoyed seeing all the latest fashions and had fun trying on clothes. It was always fun and exciting for me to have new things to wear.

I was comfortable with going out by myself, but I preferred being with friends (or boyfriend) most of the time. I'm a people person. Crowds never bothered me, in fact I kind of liked the hustle and bustle of the city. The more people there are, the more interesting things there were to see. I used to go to Manhattan regularly during my college years, for assignments. I could spend the entire day just seeing the sites and watching other people. I loved the diversity of the city and the fast paced nature of the people. Even simple things, like taking the subway, were interesting and fun for me. I could spent hours wandering around the museums. It didn't seem to matter how often I went; there was always something new to see and favorite areas to explore.

I've always enjoyed dancing. I missed out on parties and dancing during my college years (due in part to an ex-boyfriend). I say "missed out" because there were many opportunities and invites to go out that I turned down. I would've loved to be more social in college, but my choice to be with my boyfriend (during college) kept me from going. The positives to staying at home more were having good grades and tremendous focus. However, once I was single again, I found a sense of freedom and exilleration that I had been missing. I went to clubs and bars occasionally on the weekends and had fun dressing up and letting loose. Hanging out with some of my friends required along drive, but it was worth it. Dancing was a perfect stress relief and I had a lot of laughs with my friends. I was usually up for doing almost anything and perferred to go out versus staying at home. Apart from shopping and going dancing, I enjoyed seeing all of the latest movies and spent a lot of time eating out.

I've always piled a lot of responsibilities on my plate, but somehow managed to balance everything fine. I was rather good at time management and being organized, which made it possible to have a life outside of career. When I was still living with my parents, I can remember them getting annoyed at the fact that I was hardly ever around. They felt I treated home as a hotel, and only stopped by to sleep and shower. For the most part, they were right. I've been on the go almost my whole life, bouncing back and forth between divorced parents. I had moved out once, before I had my own apartment. Moving back wit my parents after having lived independently felt awkward and suffocating. I didn't waste much time planning on getting my place. It's not that I have anything against my parents, I just prefer to be free andindependent. I liked the feeling of not having to depend on anyone and the freedom to come and go as I pleased.

The thing my parents didn't realize was how many extra hours I stayed at work, or how many projects I was working on. I was usually the first teacher to arrive, and the last to leave. I never minded putting in extra time, because I loved my job. I was never asked to do a lot of the extra things I did, but they were important to me, and I was happy to sacrifice my time. I wanted my classroom to run a certain way and I wanted to be flexible in helping with responsibilities around school. The year of my accident I put on three art shows, worked on two murals and ran the yearbook club. I attended school even and maintained an ever changing display of my students' work. I don't think anyone in my life (apart from my boyfriend) realized exactly how much I was balancing at the time. I was stressed out, but I was also very proud of my achievements and was happy with my life.

As you can imagine, my life changed drastically after my injury and there are countless aspects of my "old life," that I've lost, or no longer enjoy. My desire (or lack there of) to go out is a perfect example of how my injury has had an impact on my life. Since my accident, the thought of going out is comparable to having a root canal; something you have to do, despite the pain. My apartment has become a safe haven for me, where it is easier to cope with my situation. I have more control over what I let in and it's easier to block things out. In the nursing home I had no peace. I wasn't happy at "home" and I was scared to go out. My computer was my only window to the world and even that was bittersweet. Everything I see reminds me of what I had, what I have and what I want. Every good memory has become painful, to some degree. Every time I leave the security of my apartment I risk being bombarded by reminders of my past and feelings of jealousy, shame and regret over what I lost. I can't help but compare myself to all the people I see. I can't help but feel embarrassed by the help I need and jealous of all the things I see other people doing.

I force myself to go out, because I feel like it's the right thing to do. I have been given opportunities to help other people in my situation through my artwork and I feel obligated to do what I can. I know it's not healthy for anyone to be a hermit. We (humanity) all need to socialize and share experiences with other people. I realize that the only way to keep my friends is to be a part of their lives and contribute what I can to my relationships with them. My grandma sometimes gets sad when her friends tell her about all the wonderful things their grandkids are doing. I understand the resentment she sometimes feels, because I know how hard it is for me to feel happy for other people, while I'm feeling miserable about myself. It's those times that I remind her (and myself) that the world is not gong to stop, just because I got hurt and that friendship is about give and take. Yes, it sucks that I'm paralyzed, but my situation shouldn't over shadow everyone else's happiness. I can''t expect people to mope around over what happened to me, nor do I want them too. I try to put my sadness aside and be happy for my friends, because I realize that everything is not about me. I can't expect anyone to want to be around me, if all I ever do is cry, complain and focus on the negative. I often do things that make me uncomfortable for the sake of my friends and family. If I gave in to my emotions and refused to hangout because I didn't feel up to it, I'd never go anywhere. I could easily isolate myself within a bubble and eventually people would stop inviting me and making an effort to include me. I wouldn't blame them.

My aides, nurses, family and friends all encourage me to go out more than I do. It's not to say that I get no enjoyment from going out; it's just that every experience comes with it's own level of sadness, embarrassment or anger. I try to balance pros and cons in my mind before I decide what to do. There are just certain things that are so uncomfortable that the small amount of fun or excitement I might have is greatly out weighed by my discomfort. Events like weddings and baby showers are outings that rank high on my discomfort list. Therefor, I avoid them, unless the people involved are extremely important to me and worth the inner turmoil. A perfect example of this would be my best friend's wedding. Not only did I attend the wedding, but I had to face multiple fears and tackle new experiences. It was my first time traveling by airplane after my accident. It was my first time to Florida, since my accident. It was also the first time I had to spend a night away from home, since my accident. The trip came with a lot of emotional discomfort, stress and anxiety. I put my feelings aside and committed myself to going, because I knew how important it was to my friends (bride & groom). They had both made a lot of sacrifices for me and supported me more than anyone, the first year after my accident. I refused to let my situation be an excuse and met the challenge head on, for the sake of my friends. There are times when I feel like the outcome is more important than my personal feelings and that I'd be selfish to not participate. I try to remind myself of the bigger picture. If I can give something back to those that are constantly giving to me, I put my feelings aside. If I feel like I can help others by letting people into my comfort zone, I do it.

I think it's easy for people to forget or make light of how different everything is for me. I think it's hard for people close to me to understand why I seldom go out. They compare me to the "old Christina," that was super outgoing and always on the run . That Christina no longer exists. My accident has changed the way I see the world and my desires to interact within it. It's often the activities I used to love the most that now bother me the most. The average, some times mundane things can be stressful and not worth doing for me. Things like going to the mall, grocery shopping, doctor visits, hanging out with friends and going out to eat are common activities that most people take for granted, because they don't have all the extra concerns that I do. In some aspects, I know I can't expect people to understand things from my perspective, because they haven't lived it and often don't know enough about paralysis to consider it.

Every time I leave my apartment I have a long list of things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that I can not just pick up go, on a whim, like before. I can't just pop in my car and go. I need help getting ready. I need special equipment and a modified car (ideally) to help transport me. I always have stress and worry over my catheter and the possibility of incontinence. I also have to consider who can accompany me, or help me at my destination. I have to consider accessibility; whether or not there will there be stairs where I'm going. If so, I have to find an alternate entrance, ramp or elevator. There are places that I can no longer go, because of my limitations. Climbing to the top of the Statue of Liberty comes to mind and luckily I have no interest in doing that. However, even places that claim accessibility are often clueless and poorly suited for wheelchairs.

The average person over looks things like curbs, doors, and the dimensions of most things. I don't have the luxury of ignoring small obstacles, like curbs. Dining out also has the added stress of having to be fed (like a baby) in front of countless strangers and most tables at restaurants are either too high or too low to sit close to everyone else. I find shopping a headache, because most stores cram too much stuff into a space and it makes it near impossible to navigate a wheelchair, without knocking things over, crashing into people (who tend to be oblivious to presence wheelchairs) or access areas all together. Try wheeling around Claire's if you don't believe me, or 90% of women's clothing stores. These days, I much rather shop online than go out. Seeing all the cute things I can't wear, like shorts, skirts, bikinis and high heeled shoes, just irks me and the fact that I can't try anything on takes out all the fun for me. Many of my friends in chairs make light of things and are less sensitive and have the mind set that people in chairs can do everything, just in a different way. While there is some truth to that way of thinking, there is also the reality that there are things that people that can not walk, just can't do. Personally, I put quality before quantity and recognize the fact that no matter what I "do" it will be a compromise. I refuse to put myself through discomfort unless I feel the outcome is worth it, or because I have no choice. Everyone deals with paralysis differently and their personality and life before paralysis plays a big role in their life with paralysis. I think it's important to recognize everyone as an individual and realize that every person's coping skills are different. 

Faith, or lack there of...

Although I grew up in a Catholic household and attended Catholic school for ten years, I never really bought into the belief system. I guess you could say that I've been an analytical person my whole life, and tend to question things that don't seem logical to me. It's very hard for me to trust in anything that isn't supported with evidence or cold hard facts. I guess most people just follow through believing and/or practicing what ever religion their parents are, or the religious beliefs of their country. On a whole, the adults in my life are not overly religious, so that might have influenced me to doubt or question my religion lessons in school, and later in life. Even as a small child, I had a difficult time believing in the stories of the Bible and magical characters like the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. Other than telling my Kindergarten class that Santa Claus didn't exist, I tried to play along and not to ruin it for my friends and siblings.

I tend to enjoy playing devil's advocate and like to question or pick apart subjects and have mini debate sessions with my friends. It can be a bad habit at times, because it makes it near impossible for me to enjoy movies, television or books at face value, without over analyzing every detail. It impacts my social life at times, in the sense that I often read into situations more than necessary and end up creating undue stress or anxiety for myself. Generally speaking, I'd say the ability to analyze facts and assess social situations are both good qualities. My problem is that in the past, I tended to only apply my analytical skills to my studies, career and planning, while acting spontaneously and carefree in other aspects of my life. Sometimes, when I look back on my life I wish I could've been more consistent and took the time to think through all the choices I made. I always joke that I'm book smart and life dumb. Although my accident has given me a new perspective on life and opened my eyes to so many things; the one thing that has always remained the same is my lack of faith in a higher power.

Logically, I have an extremely hard time believing in any concept of God. I rely heavily on science and enjoy learning about how things work and why things do the things they do. I love learning the history of things and understanding how and why things are the way they are. In general, I like having answers and proof to back them up. I would imagine most people feel the same way. It is comforting when someone is able to offer you a reason or a solution to your questions. On the contrary, it's frustrating and stressful when no one can give you a straight answer or fix a problem you might have. My spinal cord injury is a perfect example of a puzzle without a solution. Not knowing how to fix my spine is infuriating. The fact that so much time and energy is spent on finding answers to other questions, when we (humanity) still haven't solved the problems of our own bodies seems absurd to me, but that is a whole other topic. What baffles me, is how people can have faith in something they have no proof of, or logical reasons for why or how it exists. In fact, I'd argue there is equal evidence, if not more, that should discourage people from having faith, yet people continue to believe. I'm fascinated by faith and often envy those that have it. I want to know what motivates people to have such one sided relationships and what influences them to believe.

Prior to my accident, I'd probably consider myself an Atheist. A lot of people confuse atheists with Devil worshipers, although they are very different. At the time of my accident I was at an all time low in terms of having faith in any deity, either good or bad. My childhood was filled with obstacles that ultimately turned me further and further away from believing in God. My parent's divorce and the death of my little sister (among other things) were enough to disprove the existence of a loving God. As I got older and learned more about the origins of religions (the reasoning and cultural history behind belief systems), I became less mystified and more aware of man's role in the creation of rituals and rules. Even now, it turns me off when I think about the corruption and bloodshed that has occurred and still occurs in the name of God.

The night of my accident I believed I was going to die and it terrified me. When I was face down in the water, unable to move and could barely see because of the darkness, I accepted the fact that my life was about to end. That night was the first of several nights in which I almost died (due to high fevers). It was during those first few weeks that I first felt the terror of not knowing what would happen if I died. Before my accident I would have said, "You die and that's it. Heaven and Hell are just fairy tales men made up to teach morality." Words are easy to say when you have no experience to back them up. Once I actually experienced coming so close to death, it's as if a switch turned on inside. The tiny flicker of doubt of "what if" has pushed me to find answers. When I do die, I don't want to find out I was wrong. Some might call it "guilt" or "fear," but regardless of my motives, I have felt the need to work on, or develop some sort of faith in God.

Now, I guess I'd be classified Agnostic. I've come to believe in some sort of higher being, but I'm not sold on any one religion, or name for God. Here again, logic steps in and makes me think that if there is a God, it created all of us and so why should it care what name we call it by? My religious friends all have arguments as to why it has to be their God, but so far I'm just convinced I have to be a good person and love my fellow man. When I describe a person as "religious," I mean someone who believes in a specific God/Gods and lives their life according to the specific rules of said God/Gods. I don't think someone has to necessarily be church going or radical to be religious.

On one hand, I envy my religious friends, because their religion gives them peace of mind and security in knowing that there is a certain purpose or plan for their life. On the other hand, I feel suffocated by the thought of having to buy into one group's set of beliefs. I don't like the thought of only a select group of people (worshipers) reaping the benefits of God, while the rest of humanity is doomed. I don't know that I'll ever be able to understand that mind set. Why should children, ignorant people or people that lived before a specific religion existed be punished for a choice they were never given? I'm trying to keep an open mind, but I can't even begin to trust in a God that would punish 99.9% of the beings it created. Why would God create us only to pit us up against one another? Who is to say which group is right? Even religions that are similar can't get along. I mean Jews, Christians and Muslims all worship the same God of the Old Testament and yet, still have been willing to kill one another over technicalities. The thinking of most modern organized religions keeps me from getting involved because it often tends to be black or white, with little room for thought or questions. Why did God bother to give me a brain if I'm only meant to follow blindly like a robot? Why give freewill if everything is already planned? So many people tell me that my accident is part of "God's plan." Doesn't that imply that I was forced to break my neck; that I never had a choice?These are the types of questions that make it hard for me to have faith.

I'm taking the time to read/learn about all different religions in my search for answers, as well as my desire to understand why people think the way they do. I'm interested in knowing what motivates people to believe. I'm especially interested in knowing how/why people that have faced horribletragedy or overcome tremendous obstacles have faith and if/how it impacts their ability to cope. I think having a stronger faith would give me more mental strength to keep moving forward. I'm met with the paradox of wanting to build faith, but not having much faith as a foundation to build from. I find it funny that I ask God to help strengthen my faith. It's as if I'm asking God to help me believe in him/her, just in case he/she actually exists. How does faith get stronger when you never receive any answers or proof to justify your questions? It's a riddle I find very difficult to deal with.

Of all the religious people in my life, I'm curious to know what factors influenced them in deciding which religion to believe: What factors make them believe in it?; How or why they think their religion is right and if they believe other religions are wrong?; What benefits do they feel they get from having faith?; Do they feel their questions are ever answered, if so how?; What proof, if any, do they feel they've seen that has validated their belief system?; What do they think about death/dying?

Art Education: Bringing Light to Contemporary Issues

Although it's been four years since my accident I still think about my "old" life on a daily basis. I can't speak for other people in my situation, but personally I find it impossible to not be reminded of everything I had and lost. One of the aspects of my old life that I miss the most is my career. It saddens me to think about all the years I spent in collage and all the time and effort I put into my work. I was truly blessed to know what I wanted early on in life and to have the motivation and talent to achieve my goals. So many of my friends floundered through college and/or chose career paths that they are unhappy with. I genuinely loved my college experience and my career. Not many people can say they enjoy their job. I have pictured myself as an art teacher ever since I was in junior high and although I always believed I'd create art on the side, I never envisioned myself as a "starving artist." I chose teaching because I wanted the stability of a steady job and for my love of children. Being an art teacher was the perfect profession for me, because I got to create art every day and inspire children to love art just as much as I do. It was also greatly satisfying to see the children creating and to see their finished artwork. Children's art is special because it captures the world from their perspective. I couldn't help but feel happy and re-energized when I would see all my students' work. Displaying the finished projects was one of my favorite things to do, because I was so proud of the work and wanted everyone to see how wonderful it was. Hanging displays also gave me the opportunity to teach the concepts or history behind each lesson to the larger school community.

It was (and still is) important to me to teach children to appreciate art and understand the vital role art plays in our every day lives. All of my lessons included historical examples of art work and highlighted the reasons behind each piece of artwork or specific techniques. This way, my students could learn about practical uses for art as well as understand how art impacts humanity and how all cultures use art as a form of expression.

I suppose there is a certain irony to my life, in the sense of how my career path changed. Most art majors in college would probably say their dream is to be a successful artist in terms of exhibiting and selling their work. In fact, it irks me that a lot of people use teaching as a "fall back" career option. My dream has always been focused on the teaching aspect of art education and never so much on my own artistic fame or success. That is why I say it is ironic that I find myself outside of the classroom and "working" as an artist.

Once I began painting again, after my accident I focused primarily on skill and technique. I joined the AMFPA and the paintings I give to them I create with the intention of them being able to reproduce them and raise money for the organization. I paint mostly still-lives for the AMFPA and working on them is great practice and skill building for me.

As many of you already know, my personal artwork focuses on my feelings and struggles with paralysis. I choose not to sell my work at this time and rather use it as a teaching tool. Although I am no longer in my classroom, it is my hope that I can educate others through my art. The paintings I've had in exhibits all touch on different issues that impact my life. Some of my work is highly person and depicts specific challenges I face or events that were traumatic. Creating each painting helps me to flush out certain emotions and thoughts I've kept bottled up. In this sense I'm sharing a small part of my burdens with the viewer. It is my hope that when people see my work they walk away with a new perspective on paralysis and desire to help raise awareness. Anyone is subject to injury and I think it's crucial that people understand that they could very easily end up in my shoes. Empathy is more important to me than sympathy. I want people to have a greater appreciation for what they have and to think about how they might feel in my situation. Many of the struggles I face are general issues that all people with disabilities can relate to. I also think it's important to shed light on the big picture and to highlight current events that impact my life, both directly and indirectly.

So, I guess you could say I am still teaching, just in a different way. I'd prefer to still be in my classroom, but am grateful that I still have an avenue for inspiring others to love art and to use art as teaching tool. I've been fortunate that people have taken an interest in my work and have supported me in my goals. I'd like to exhibit more in the future and will continue to grab opportunities to raise awareness whenever I can. For me, fame is not a concern. If I can help educate others about paralysis and in turn help find a cure, that's all that matters to me.