The Dreaded “D” Word

Three “D” words have an immense impact on most of the current days of my life. The first two, I have been dealing with, and battling, on a daily basis since March the 2nd, 1999.

First, we have DISABILITY. Yes, I have been disabled since that fateful day in early 1999. I am not a good disabled person. Over the course of a standard 365 day calendar year, I will try my best to convince myself on 360 of those days that I am NOT disabled. I have gotten so good at NOT acting disabled that I sometimes think that those family members closest to me do indeed quite often forget that I am disabled. My disability is such that I do fairly well at maintaining a good deal of control over my symptoms. On most days, only the slightest of limps would even hint to an outsider that I might have some kind of physical issue even going on. Living with a Neurological Disability, I am fortunate in that YOU and everyone else on the planet cannot see 99% of the issues I have. Like I said, most days, I feel as if I am in control, even if that is the furthest thing from the reality of my situation. Most days I can walk fine with just a slight limp, I have my pain under reasonable control, none of my neurological deficits are adversely affecting me, and I pretty much feel like an everyday, normal, healthy person.

Then, I have the days where all that positive energy comes crashing back down to earth. These are the days when, out of the blue, without warning, something will pop up to where my body starts screaming at me that I am indeed disabled. Usually, these episodes just come crashing in, when everything is going good, and I am instantly reminded why I have been unable to work for the past 14 years. These are the days where I become not just a prisoner of my house, but usually a prisoner of the bed or couch, pretty much unable to do even the slightest of chores or activities. This is when my old nemesis, DEPRESSION, comes screaming back into my life. I have been battling the Depression Demons ever since my injury. I have been to therapy and have been able to keep it at bay to some degree, but when my disability issues crop up, my Depression issues are usually right behind them. It seems to be a never-ending and vicious cycle. Days, weeks, or Months of feeling pretty good physically, with my disability problems at a minimum, and then “BOOM!”, everything comes crashing down in an instant and I end up curled in a crippled and depressed ball on the couch for days on end.

This is where the third “D” comes in to play. That would be “DOUBT”. This is a fairly new Demon that I have been battling only in recent weeks since I first concocted this crazy idea about Steve and me hiking the Appalachian Trail. I get reminded that while on vacation in the mountains of Northern New Mexico last summer, I was barely physically able to walk two blocks from our condo before I was physically wiped out. Horrific pain my left ankle sent me to the Doctor where I was diagnosed with a stress fracture that I had obtained via just being a home-bound househusband. In prior years, I had physically been able to hike as much as 10-12 miles in a day while on vacation, and now I could barely crawl two blocks. I remember telling my wife and family that my hiking days were now officially over, forever. My physical condition had deteriorated to the point to where hiking was no longer possible. After last summer, I spent a great deal of time and effort to get myself back to where I started to feel pretty good physically. With feeling better, the Depression Demons were again kept at bay, at least temporarily. In this temporary period of feeling good physically and mentally, the crazed hiking plan of walking 2,200 miles from Georgia to Maine was hatched.

Reaction from family members to the crazed hiking plan has been pretty consistent. Most people have little to no reaction to the plan because they know that there is no way in Hell that I will ever make 100 miles on the trail, let alone over 2,000 miles, IF I even make it to the start of the trail to begin with. The family members that know the full extent of my disability issues are sure to believe there is NO WAY I could possibly even come close to completing the Appalachian Trail. They know some of the physical hurdles I face here at home and think there is no way I could tackle those hurdles out in the middle of the woods, miles from civilization. Like I said earlier, I am not a good disabled person. I hate to think of myself as disabled. I hate when people remind me that I am disabled. I HATE being told “you can no longer do that!”, because I am now disabled. I had a bad night on Tuesday night and a bad day on Wednesday. My body and brain were working overtime to remind me that I am disabled. The DOUBT Demon paid me a visit and stayed for most of the day. I woke up on Wednesday morning utterly convinced that there was no way that I could ever do this hike. This whole stupid plan, blog, Facebook page, and everything else, is all for nothing. Who I am kidding? There’s no doubt that I cannot do this. Everyone is right. I am disabled. I’ll never make it. Why spend three years chasing a dream that has no chance of ever coming true? This is all just a waste of time! Just let me lay here on my couch all day long, wallowing in my self-pity, cursing my broken body, and let everything go back to the depressed way things usually are in my life.

But, like I have said, I am not a good disabled person. On the contrary, I’m a stubborn Idiot of epic proportions. Yes, I am going to have these moments, for the rest of my freaking life, where the Disability and Depression Demons are going to strike me down. They can hit me anytime, anyplace, anywhere, whether it is here in the comfort and safety of my home, or out in the woods in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing I can do to stop them. My condition is 100% permanent with no cure. If you get struck with a physical problem, would you rather be at home stuck on the couch in front of the TV all day long, or would you rather be on a beautiful mountain-top, deep in the woods, miles from civilization, with nothing but clean air and complete peace and quiet around you?

I’ll take the woods myself.

(Being stuck at home got boring a decade ago)

Everyone can continue to doubt me and my chances of making this hike. The Doubt Demons can continue to pay me frequent visits over the coming three years. Maybe they are all right. Maybe I don’t have a chance of completing this hike. Maybe I will do good to make it 100 miles. If that’s what happens, I’m fine with that. Considering I could barely make two blocks last summer, 100 miles sounds pretty good right now. If nothing else, no matter how far I make it on the trail, just getting to the trail and actually starting the hike will be a huge victory. Right now, the Doubt Demons are screaming that there is no way I will ever even make it to the start of the trail.

I look forward to proving that theory wrong.

Don’t bet against a disabled, stubborn Idiot.

We hate to lose.