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Our Children
Written by Chloe on Sunday, December 27, 2009
I had a long and serious talk with my sixteen year old son today. We have a wonderful relationship, and he has told me that I am a great parent. We always have a lot of fun together. Today I asked him what I could do to be a better parent. His answer was related to BIID.
I told my son about my BIID around eighteen months ago. He didn’t seem too freaked out about it; it’s just another example of my several eccentricities. He was quite used to making fun of me because of my OCD behaviours. Well, they are pretty funny. He’s good at predicting what I’ll order at a restaurant based on numbered items.
He doesn’t have any issue with me using a wheelchair or leg braces around him. He knows why I do it. It’s not a problem. He knows that I want to be paralysed too. That’s not the issue either.
It turns out that my son’s number one issue with my parenting is that I might die and not be there for him. He knows that I ski off cliffs. He knows why I do it. He knows that I ski very fast. He knows that I ski the most difficult and dangerous of runs. He knows that I get hurt skiing. He knows the kind of hiking I do too.
My son and I are open with each other about almost everything. He knows that I take Prozac for depression; but I’ve never talked with him about having suicidal thoughts. I feel guilty about not discussing this with him. I would have liked my parents to have talked to me about their thoughts of suicide. It would have made me feel less alone. It would have made me feel more connected with them. But I don’t want to tell my son. He is already afraid of me dying. He needs me.
The reasons for me doing dangerous things are complex, and have a long history. It started when I was seven. BIID was a part of it from the beginning. I figured that waiting around for paralysis might take a long time. It seemed there were things I could do to improve the odds. I bicycled in heavy city traffic. I climbed trees to see how high I could jump from them. I have described elsewhere my actual paraplegia attempt when I was nine.
Suicide has been a part of it too; not in terms of active attempts, but certainly tempting fate when I haven’t felt much reason to live. I was miserable when I was seven. It had to do with being intersexed. Getting crushed by a truck didn’t seem like such a bad idea. A year ago it was in my mind that I could die from the kind of skiing I was doing. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I don’t feel like that now; courtesy of Prozac and a wheelchair.
Then there’s my mother’s obsessive fear of just about everything; fear of electricity, fear of cliffs, fear of chemicals, fear of flying, fear of fire, fear of roller coasters, fear of being disabled, fear of speed, fear of cats, fear of lesbians. It is interesting that that her greatest fears became my greatest loves; an active rebellion.
Doing things which have an element of danger has become a long entrenched habit; not just physical danger, but social danger too. My mother also had a massive fear of social danger, and would never do anything considered remotely unconventional. Here I am, having presented as male, female, or anything in between. Here I am in a lesbian marriage. Here I am deliberately living life in a wheelchair. Here I am brazenly giving university seminars about life as a hermaphrodite. Here I am brazenly telling my friends about BIID.
How does all this affect my son? Well most of it is no big deal, except… I could die from some of the physical things; and then I won’t be there for him when he needs me. I have no personal fear of being dead, but it can have a big impact on others. Alicia has said that she would probably only last a couple of months at most.
I have been selfish in this. I need to be a better parent. I have a big urge to ski off cliffs. Part of that urge comes from BIID. I would love to become paraplegic from a genuine skiing accident, or at least a skiing "accident". But I have been at ski resorts when someone has died from doing much less dangerous things than I do. I need to pursue the kinder gentler route to paraplegia.
I am seriously interested in feedback regarding how I am handling the intersection of having a child and having BIID. What else should I be doing or not doing? How do those of you with children handle this?
Tags: BIID, Cliffs, Depression, Leg Braces, Paralysis, Paraplegia, Skiing, Suicide, Wheelchair
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6 Comments
In your son, you have everything to live for. For his sake you need to start living more safely. We only get one mother. She may not be the perfect mother (mine sure was not), but she cannot be replaced by anyone. You need to wake up to that, and he needs to know that you have done so. He already knows you have suicidal thoughts — why else would you be living a suicidal lifestyle? He needs to know that bottom line you want to live.
You are lucky to be around people who are so invested in your well being. If I were you I’d think about toning down the risky behavior, at least until your son is able to be out on his own. I suppose it’s a compromise on taking care of yourself and taking care of those to whom you are responsible (either legally, or ethically). Finding out exactly where that compromise lies is entirely up to you. Just remember, if you’re going to be doing something stupid, at least be smart about it.
On a separate note, you mentioned about how you would love to become paralyzed from a skiing accident, or at least an “accident.” This is something I’ve been giving a lot of though recently. Given the option between having a surgery, and arranging an accident, I’m more and more coming to the decision that I would arrange an accident, even if it is far more dangerous. For some reason I feel it lends some legitimacy to the whole situation (I’m probably not describing it quite right, but you get the idea?). Does/has anyone else felt the same way, and if you’ve resolved this conflict, how did you?
Thank you for the feedback. I had another good talk with my son today, and reassured him that I’m not suicidal. It’s a good job that I’m not, because I wouldn’t be able to lie to him. I also told him that I would reduce the extent of my risk taking. He was happy to hear both of these things.
What I’m not telling him for now is how emotionally fragile I can be; that I can get into a downward spiral of thinking I’m a worthless piece of shit, not a valuable human being, of no use to anybody.
He actually told me something that helped in this regard. We were discussing the value of being real, and making oneself vulnerable to others; how it fosters deep and meaningful relationships. He brought up the time I took him with me to the intersex support group in February. He said that he had been in awe of the deep respect with which I was held in the group. I’m usually clueless about how others see me. He had noted that I’m fearless when talking about myself, and that it really helps other people to feel safe about their own disclosures regarding difficult issues. I need to keep reminding myself that I do matter to other people.
About the risk taking: I decided to limit skiing off cliffs to ten feet vertical. One should be able to ski away from that without any injury at all. However, my original minor SCI was with even less vertical than that. I must have landed with just the right angle and twist. There’s still a chance of replicating that. And I’ll cut the maximum degree of difficulty down from 9.9, which I was doing last season, to 9.75, a mid level triple black. I have a particular one in mind which is known as “Death Chute”. Hmm…
@Becs: I’m so sorry you went through hearing your mother talking about killing herself. That must have been very traumatic. What I had in mind was more along the lines of admitting to suicidal thoughts and reinforcing that such things are possible to get through no matter how great the despair might seem at the time. I do this a lot at the intersex support group. There is often someone who is suicidal.
@Bryan: There are several reasons I would prefer an accident over surgery. If someone asks me why I am in a wheelchair, it is fine to say that I had a skiing accident. However, I’m sure that if I say “Oh, I had surgery in order to make me paralysed”, there will be some strange looks. More importantly, it’s not just paraplegia that I need. I actually want the whole experience of becoming paraplegic through an accident. No, I have not resolved this conflict.
Maybe one could say, “I had risky back surgery and wound up paralyzed.” No need to say that the risk was that somehow one wouldn’t wind up paralyzed. Happy New Year.
Chloe, I think you put it perfectly. It’s not just about being an amputee for me. It’s important for me to experience the process of becoming an amputee. As infuriating as this whole BIID thing can be, I’ll be interested to see how it all plays out. For me, as well as everyone else.
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1 On 27 December, 2009, Becs said:
I beg you not to discuss your suicidal thoughts with your son now. His fear of losing you is already intense – telling him would only make it worse.
I know, because my mother regularly talked about killing herself.
Having a child involved makes a serious difference. I had no idea that you had a child because that changes the entire equation. You are not just responsible to your partner and yourself, you are responsible for the care and well-being of that child until he is a stable adult.
I beg you to please stop your risky behavior. What you’re risking isn’t “just” your own life.