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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" href="http://www.disaboom.com/utility/FeedStylesheets/atom.xsl" media="screen"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xml:lang="en"><title type="html">Daneen72</title><subtitle type="html" /><id>http://www.disaboom.com/Blogs/daneen72/atom.aspx</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.disaboom.com/Blogs/" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.disaboom.com/Blogs/daneen72/atom.aspx" /><generator uri="http://communityserver.org" version="3.1.20917.1142">Community Server</generator><updated>2008-04-26T08:06:00Z</updated><entry><title>What My Real Problem Is</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.disaboom.com/Blogs/daneen72/archive/2008/04/26/what-my-real-problem-is.aspx" /><id>http://www.disaboom.com/Blogs/daneen72/archive/2008/04/26/what-my-real-problem-is.aspx</id><published>2008-04-26T05:06:00Z</published><updated>2008-04-26T05:06:00Z</updated><content type="html">&lt;blockquote&gt;
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&lt;p&gt;I just joined Disaboom a few days ago, though I&amp;#39;ve known about it for a little while, and I was just at my friend&amp;#39;s house letting her read my profile and posts-- she said I sounded like the &amp;quot;crazy cat woman &amp;quot; who had no life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; One of the replies to my introductory&amp;nbsp; post suggests blogs to get over my shyness; after a brief consult with my friend&amp;#39;s 14 year-old, to find out what exactly a blog was, I decided to give it a try.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Let me begin by saying I have a life and, up until five years ago,&amp;nbsp;a pretty good one.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It all began on a nice (or so my mom tells me) day in March of 1972.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I came into the world a breech baby who was two months premature and Jaundiced ( this part of my story, I understand, is not unique) .&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I am now 36 years-old, living with Cerebral Palsy; specifically, Spastic Diplegia ( my hands are also slightly affected whe it comes to my fine motor skills-- no big deal, I don&amp;#39;t like to sew but tying my shoes can sometimes be a royal pain in the a**&lt;img src="http://www.disaboom.com/emoticons/emotion-2.gif" alt="Big Smile" /&gt;!!)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; When I was growing up, an only child (my mother was not able to have anymore after me), my family was terrific; especially my mom and&amp;nbsp;maternal grandparents.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The end result, I became the poster child for positivity. I didn&amp;#39;t even realize I was different from other kids because nobody made a huge fuss over my crutches and other accessories. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I did, however, go to a special school from kindergarten to sixth grade mainly because you had to back then ;also,&amp;nbsp; it was a good way for me to see the doctors&amp;nbsp; (they held clinics at school) and receive regular PT and OT.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was mainstreamed to regular public school in 7th grade.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The initial adjustment was rough because, for the first two months I was playing catch up. After that though, it was basically smooth sailing--&amp;nbsp;I got good grades and I had friends who, like everyone else until this point, did not seem to notice my disability; I can honestly say I only remember one or two instances&amp;nbsp;when I was picked on. The positive attitude&amp;nbsp; continued but don&amp;#39;t misunderstand, everything was not always sunny happy faces.&amp;nbsp; Now, I began to learn that there &lt;strong&gt;were people to whom I would have to prove I was &amp;quot;normal&amp;quot;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This eureka moment was a giant culture shock for me, and sometimes very hard to deal with.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What I discovered through out various points in&amp;nbsp; high school and college was that some people thought my CP was a big deal, and&amp;nbsp; they did not know how to act towards me because &amp;nbsp;of it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I compensated.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I became a people pleaser; I tried to exceed what I thought the expectations were,I became a good listener and put other people( and there problems) before me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I thought if I did this, the focus would be off of my disability and those people would recognize my worth and feel comfortable around me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My strategy worked for me for quite a while.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I graduated college, found a job and even got married to a man I adored.&amp;nbsp; I had a house, two dogs and a step daughter who lived with me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Life was great!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I had&amp;nbsp;my own family and all of the things&amp;nbsp;I thought people my age should have.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was &amp;quot;normal&amp;quot;!!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Then one day it all changed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Five years ago, my husband&amp;#39;s mother died-- he decided life was short and he did not want to be married to me anymore.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Instead, he wanted to be with my best friend of 15 years; &amp;quot;our &amp;nbsp;feelings for eachother just happened&amp;nbsp;we didn&amp;#39;t mean to hurt&amp;nbsp;you.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You understand, right ?&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Wrong.&amp;nbsp;We divorced, I changed my name back, moved in with my mom, fell, broke my elbow, couldn&amp;#39;t walk or work for 7 months, and lost my job (not due to injury but that is a story for another time).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;Things were starting to get better.&amp;nbsp;My elbow healed, I could walk, I found my own apartment and Winston(my cat) and another job.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Then one night, I saw them together at a party and he told me he just couldn&amp;#39;t do &amp;quot;it&amp;quot; (be married to me) anymore because it was too hard.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He had to help me with stuff that he doesn&amp;#39;t have to with her.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So, in the end I have started to blame my CP for&amp;nbsp;ruining me and my self esteem is shot.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My real problem is that my attitude sucks and I don&amp;#39;t know how to change it back to the way it was.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I don&amp;#39;t want to be the person with a chip on her shoulder who feels sorry for herself, but I can&amp;#39;t be sunny either.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.disaboom.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=55441" width="1" height="1"&gt;</content><author><name>Daneen72</name><uri>http://www.disaboom.com/members/Daneen72.aspx</uri></author></entry></feed>