tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19786886.post65178186776166697..comments2013-03-24T22:43:07.695-04:00Comments on Disability, Sex, Marriage, Tears.: On the safety of solitudeNobilis Reedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02619601142783473136noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19786886.post-9744956795267110462007-07-29T03:54:00.000-04:002007-07-29T03:54:00.000-04:00I find that if I plan for solitude, and seek the p...I find that if I plan for solitude, and seek the pleasures to be found therein - reading, music, movies, napping, writing and journaling, etc. - that I am content and have more energy and less pain. I view those days and weeks sometimes as 'banking' reserves of energy, patience, perspective and reduced inflammation and wear and tear. And what do I use them on? I plan trips, outings, visits, activities. Every month we do a minor one - the zoo, dinner and a movie, a weekend trip to someplace a few hours away. Sometimes, maybe once or twice a year I plan a bigger outing. I find that if I plan carefully the logistics, and lay them out for my family, then they are prepared and have a backup plan if I get knocked down. I plan to lie down for an hour in the afternoon, or to spend just half a day, or to find a comfortable place to sit and read while they run about more actively. I am usually pretty beat and hurting by the end of it, but the planning and setting of expectations and contingency plans make it all work out so that while we aren't like people without disability, we aren't without travel, activities, outside the cocoon lives. It seems to work. And, in this light, being contented with the things solitude does offer, and knowing that strategic withdrawal for periods with a goal in mind and taking pleasure in the solitude allows me to keep open the lines and experiences outside the cocoon, solitude isn't dysfunctional. Hope I said that well enough to make sense. It is so much better for me than it was when my instincts told me to withdraw but I fought them because I felt they were destructive. My instinct was good, I just needed to work out how to follow them well.Michael Burthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09680060784793355630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19786886.post-88893239159212813812007-07-28T14:25:00.000-04:002007-07-28T14:25:00.000-04:00Yes, but I think in spite of all that, we need to ...Yes, but I think in spite of all that, we need to keep trying. It's too easy to just wall ourselves off.Nobilis Reedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02619601142783473136noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19786886.post-70534253447481534172007-07-28T13:15:00.000-04:002007-07-28T13:15:00.000-04:00Sometimes I think it's hard to understand is how d...Sometimes I think it's hard to understand is how difficult it can be for us to request accommodation from the outside world. <BR/><BR/>Getting out is physically difficult, made emotionally difficult by the feeling of being a burden. It's especially hard if chronic pain is involved, because one small thing can jar us unbearably and then we <I>must</I> withdraw in order to recover. Not everyone is willing to allow us that. There is frequently a clamor of "Just a little bit longer!" when we honestly can't take another minute.<BR/><BR/>I have a hard time making friends because I use assistive equipment under certain circumstances. I need extra rest. I need medication. My condition can make me unreliable because it acts up at random. I have speech and memory issues sometimes, especially if I'm tired. Not everyone has the patience for all of it.<BR/><BR/>To be honest, I reserve all of my energy for facilitating my son's social life, and I'm so tired at the end of the day that I rarely miss having one of my own.Ann Regentinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07146013526638227274noreply@blogger.com