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Blog > Thoughts > Other's Thoughts > Ada's Thoughts > I thought I was the only one. I did. I don’t know why.  

I thought I was the only one. I did. I don’t know why.  

Written by Ada on Monday, October 27, 2008

Whenever I have had cause to share with someone who was troubled and feeling alone at a thought or a feeling they had – I have often said "You are not the only one."  "You are not alone."  "There are others like you."  And I was not lying. I truly believed that.  I believe that there is someone else in the world who has been there, or done that, or thought or felt the same thing (or at least something comparative). Yet, I did not believe it for myself.  Why? Is it because I didn’t know what troubled me?  Because I felt ashamed?  Because I didn’t know what it was called?  I think, yes to all.  

I am systematically going through and trying to read every post and every comment on the site.  As I read other’s thoughts and stories, I have found myself thinking, I did that too!  I did THAT too!  I have books I checked out from the library and had to fake disappointment at having to pay for them when they were "misplaced."  When nobody is looking, I often move my legs with my hands while I am seated.  I give myself pressure reliefs while in my chair at work.  

It was a bad day today. I was having trouble focusing on my tasks at work. I was using my little tools strategically to comfort myself. I kept wishing I was sitting in a wheelchair, not a desk chair. My colleague came looking nice in his blue corduroy pants.  I began to fantasize how nice it would be to wear corduroy pants in a wheelchair. Not having to hear the swish swish swish swish as I moved about my day.  It took me about 20 minutes to refocus, and even then it was not fully.  

It is important to note that within my circle I am the "funny" one. I’m not the "smart" one, or the "pretty" one, or the "sexy" one. I’m the "funny" one. People invite me to parties for my entertainment value.  I’m a great story teller, with a dry wit.  Being funny is a tool I have used for many years to help me manage my depression and that "other" thing that was troubling me (before I knew what BIID was).  It has been a very successful tool for me.  I am a guarded person, bordering on private. I learned early on that if you can tell a great story and keep people laughing, they seem not to notice that you share little true detail about yourself.  A probing question can be dismissed with a witty comment and a quick change of subject.     

Whilst driving home from work I was lamenting because today I really needed a wheelchair. I do not have a wheelchair.  Funds permitting purchase will be available in a few weeks, but not today.  It made me very sad. It made me feel like I *may* have an emergency.  I began to think of all the places I could go where there are wheelchairs.  I ruled out the hospital, because they are often busy and after a couple hours there, they would begin to treat me for something. And then, in a flash, a light bulb over my head. I can go to the airport! They have wheelchairs there!!  I would wait until it is late and less populated.  I could wear a fashion hat, high heels and a long sweeping coat from my collection.  In case someone saw me, the height/weight description would be off.  I could park my car and walk briskly into the terminal (as I often walk briskly), looking like a confident and determined woman, I could remove the wheelchair to the parking garage (nobody in the terminal would know that I did NOT have my 92 year old grandmother in the car).  In the dark of night I could quickly shove the chair into my car and be on my way.   Once home, the security detail would likely not think anything of me pushing an empty wheelchair, assuming anyone was even watching the cameras.  I would enter my home, strip off my costume and find comfort and peace for a time.  And then my fantasy continued…..   

I realized that in time, the authorities would arrive at my home to arrest me.  I would explain my story, plead my case and they would not believe me.  "No really, it was an EMERGENCY!" I would say.  And then one of the authorities would say "I’ve never heard of Body Integrity Identity Disorder – it sounds made up"  and then the other would say "What, you say you need to be a cripple? Who would want to be a cripple?" he would mutter to himself.  And out the door we would go. Outside my home, the reporters would have gathered and they would photograph this crazy woman screaming and crying…. "I’m telling you, IT WAS AN EMERGENCY." Of course it would be on the news.  Along with the surveillance video from the airport. And the coverage would be about  "…. a woman claiming to have Body Integrity Identity Disorder, a little known and much contended….."   My career would be over.  Of course Reuters and the AP would pick up the story.  My name and image would be splashed across televisions worldwide.  The word "lunatic" would be spoken in 75 languages in reference to me.  Every place I would travel for the rest of my life I would be recognized.  I would lose any and all credibility as a wheelchair user, should that ever come to pass.  I would deliver a severe blow to the acceptance and understanding of people with BIID.  I would die penniless and alone. 

I did not go to the airport.

I am not sitting in a wheelchair.

I breathe one sigh of relief that I was able to fully think through my emergency.

I breathe another sigh of relief that I am, in fact, NOT alone.

Tags: body identity integrity disorder, Emergency, Wheelchair

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