Down by the Cypress Trees

A few days ago, I was talking with a very dear person in my life. We both have various disabilities and chronic illnesses which we have learned to overcome and adapt to throughout our lives. But one thing nobody seems to mention is the mental health struggles that can come along with having physical disabilities. Both of us are rarely seen without a smile on our faces, but if only people understood some of the darkness behind our smiles.

Having been born with spina bifida, I always knew — even as a naive child — that I was different. There were things my friends did which I could not participate in simply because they weren’t accessible to me or feasible. As a result, I suffered from feelings of being left out time and time again. I have always had wonderful friends who did their best to try to accommodate me whenever they could, but the hard reality is that when only half of your body functions properly, there are just things you will never be able to do as easily as others.

Growing up, I told people that I have always been able to do exactly what I ever wanted and that I would not change my disability for anything. It is a major part of who I am and has shaped me into the person I am today. As a disabled adult, even, I have gotten to do things that other people would never get the opportunities to do. But the truth is, as simple as it may sound, I have always wanted to go hiking or wandering through a forest admiring the beauty of the vegetation and the world around me. With a motorized wheelchair that gets stuck in any sort of difficult terrain, this has always been impossible for me.

Having a physical disability can be challenging, but the mental health effects that stem from having such a limiting condition are, in my opinion, something much, much worse. As I grew into my adult years, I began suffering more intensely from feelings of depression, anxiety, and low self worth. In 2021, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and have been on medication ever since and have learned coping skills to deal with these nagging feelings of inadequacy.

But every single day is a battle for my sanity when living with spina bifida and using a wheelchair. I often have to remind myself of my worth when I am faced with a challenge that, no matter how hard I try, I cannot overcome. I have to remind myself when I see my friends out with others enjoying a night on the town that I am, in fact, not alone and that I am loved by those around me. I have to tell myself that I am capable of things that other people are not.

One thing I am proud to say is that having a disability and mental health challenges has made me more compassionate and empathetic toward the struggles of others, and for that I am grateful. But I will forever say that these mental struggles are not something I would wish on even my worst enemy.

So if you have friends who have physical disabilities, do your best to make sure they feel included and don’t feel alone. All we want is to just be seen and heard and valued.