Learning There's No Shame in Disability

I yearn for healing. My soul aches for my body to be healed as extensively as my spirit has. I firmly believe that one day everything the locusts have eaten will be restored. But today is not that day.

I'm still weak. I am still limited. I have healed substantially in the six and a half years since I was exposed to toxic mold, but I am still disabled. And if I try to live like a normal person, I will suffer. When I protect myself, when I treat myself like I am disabled, then I feel normal. I feel well. I feel healthy again. Then I begin believing that I am normal and stop protecting myself. Such as today.

We are moving. Again. I don't feel like telling the background of it today, but I cannot fool myself into believing I can move trailers, take good care of myself, and enough leftover to complete my schoolwork.

So, because of this, I am withdrawing from my English course this first half of the semester. And there is no shame in that. I need to take care of myself. If staying in school means sacrificing my health, I'll step out of school. I am disabled in some ways, and if school is one of those things I'm prevented from at this moment, there's nothing wrong with that.

There is no shame in my disability. 

I think I just need to repeat that to myself tonight.