transabled.org

I’m not sure wishing ‘Happy Birthday’ is really the right thing to say, but perhaps blowing out candles can inspire at least a small, brief smile? Even if it’s just acknowledging: “Wow, forty, I’ve been around for awhile, gotten this far.” That alone is an accomplishment (and coupled with the complications involved) numerous haven’t and won’t be able to claim.

I’ve noticed you use the term ‘healed’ and then proceed to say you wish you were a paraplegic before forty.

Is that your vision of being healed?

For me, while I feel that I am ‘messed up’, not being deaf; I wouldn’t consider becoming deaf being officially ‘healed’, it would be a way to alleve the pain (in completion), which some could argue would be ‘healed’. I would considered being able to swallow a pill, or have some sort of vaccine that would innoculate me (I’m speaking in figurative terms here) and eliminating the BIID condition of feeling misconfigured being ‘healed’.

Obviously either option, getting paraplegia (and other fixes, etc.), or a magic pill isn’t something that’s going to land on our doorsteps tomorrow, so both are about out of reach for now.

Is cake any consolation at all?

None of us may be healed in the sense that we want to but I hope you can take consolation that you have helped A LOT of people down the road of self awareness. Many people will agree with me here when I say you have helped me become more at ease with who I am emotionally. I only hope one day we can return the favour and help ease your pain a little.

@Dante, not quite yet my birthday, but thanks for the wishes :). I’m not much into accomplishments I guess. Perhaps a bit like the competitive spirit you were mentionning in another post ;)

For me the term “healed” means having the BIID demons tamed and leaving me alone. This may take several forms. And healing for me doesn’t mean that it would be healing for you. Yes, I believe at this point that the only way for me to be whole, to be healed, is to be paraplegic. I do not think that is the answer for everyone, and perhaps not even for most people.

@Jen, cake is no consolation, no, I eat cake too often to make it special ;)

@Sophie, I’m glad that you feel I’ve helped you, and that others feel that way as well. Makes some of it worth it.

Sean, I can tell you, a couple of decades out from it, life begins at 40, really. I hope life’s second half will bring you, at last, whatever you need for inner calm and peace. Meanwhile I’m with Sophie, you’ve done an awful lot for a lot of people already, not only those who actually participate here but I bet for many lurkers also. Hang in there, buddy, and many happy returns of the day!

Brice, thanks for that little reminder. I’ve also been having a hard time with reaching (almost) 40, and I’ve forgotten that so many people have told me that life begins at 40! I hope you’ve given Sean some hope, but you’ve definitely given me some.

I was not able to really deal with BIID effectively until at least 40. I consider myself healed to some extent, I won’t be healed completely until either the BIID goes away or my leg is gone. But I am able to keep it under control now, in retrospect it really ate me up as a child, then a teenager, then young adult. It does not eat me up any more. I do not know how I will feel next year, but I am confident I have the tools to deal with it now. For me, maturity has helped.

When I was a little kid, my mother told me that life begins at forty. It sounded like nonsense to me. In truth I did not find much happiness until I turned forty. Age brings a lot of psychological benefits. Hang in there.

Thanks to those who said that it’s better after 40. I just can’t help shaking a past experience. When i was a teenager I was repeatedly told by a large number of people to enjoy my teenage years, as they were the best years of one’s life. And my teenage years were pretty horrible, thank you very much. So I’ll reserve judgement on my “post-40″ until I’ve been there a while :)

Just be open to the possibility!

My teenage years were by far the worst of my life. I can’t imagine anyone saying it’s supposed to be good. It was hell.

The best years of my life were my college years. I had it *so* good it was insane. And I had absolutely no idea at the time.

Maybe the best years of our lives are in reality teenage or college years, but you have to be at least 40 to have the sense to realize that!

My teen years were miserable, largely because of my closeted BIID, which of course I could not even name at the time. My best years began in my middle 40s, when I headed a project that had me constantly on the road for several years. Reporting was loose, all my bosses had to see was that progress was happening. It was also then that I got on the Internet, discovered that I was not the only need-to-be-crip looney-tunes in the world, and had the freedom to get my braces from Bob and do the polio thing in public, occasionaly for days at a time, that I had needed to do for so long. Unfortunately the project was quite successfully completed after several years and although I have a good life, cripping around is rarely part of it any more. But I’m much happier for knowing what BIID is, having the good company of the folks I meet here, and being in a position to encourage younger people, for instance Gordo, to bite the BIID bullet, so to speak, and live a happier life than I got to do.