Living with Cerebral Palsy and Intersectionality

People have come to expect a cynical and jaded response from me about a lot of things, but before that there was hope and joy. That's the result of reopening the same wounds. That's the result of believing in people and being hurt by them over and over. Jaded and cynical humor is a defense mechanism for the wounds that ripped hope and joy from my grasp. “Some things are hard to let go. Some things are never enough…. But love is a long, long road” (Tom Petty, Love is a Long Road). My dad died five years ago on Valentine's Day.  Valentine's Day may as well be a political division in my home. In my grief, I'm the antagonist and want nothing to do with false idols in the shape of chocolate hearts. The other side is just hoping one day I'll get over it. The funny thing for me is that I've never really liked Valentine's Day. There's two that I remember with any degree of fondness, one involved a bouquet of wine (yeah, a case of wine in an arran...

I paid for snow removal for the first time, ever. “[M]aybe it’s just a change of climate,” but I haven’t seen a winter like this in a long time. I hate it. Not because it’s winter or even because snow is awful. When it gets cold enough to freeze and ice is a concern, I am gripped with anxiety. I’d rather hibernate. I hate what this kind of winter does to my body and my mind. “I have lived here before, the days of ice. And of course this is why I’m so concerned…” (Jimi Hendrix, Up from the Skies). There was a time as a kid that I loved winter because it meant sledding on the giant hill across from the hospital. Ironically, doing death-defying runs towards an icy creek in plain view of the emergency room. I loved hitting the slopes on Saturdays and that perfect ski day without falls, in a sweatshirt and jeans. By the time I was a six-foot tall teenager, walking places, and having to do most of the winter snow shoveling, I began to sour on the winter. Like, most things this wa...

I was the third most musically gifted person in my household growing up. Without question, my sister was the first. I got my love of music from my dad. My dad was always playing guitar and making up songs. My sister on the other hand was a true artist and tormented like one too. As things go with siblings sometimes, neither one of us were willing to acknowledge the other's musical talent most of the time. As you've probably noticed from what I write, I don't tend to talk very specifically about the living. That's on purpose. Their stories aren't mine to tell. And, we probably see the journey a little bit differently. The interesting thing about growth and change is that sometimes it's you who can't recognize how you've changed and sometimes it's others who can't recognize how you've changed.  Growing up as an Evangelical Christian was a really interesting experience. One I don't really recommend, but it's not my intention ...

“And if I only could make a deal with God and get him to swap our places” (Placebo, Running Up That Hill, originally by Kate Bush).  Side note, before we start, Placebo’s cover of Running Up That Hill is one of the greatest covers I've ever heard.  Five years ago, around this time, my father's health was in rapid decline and he would only live a few weeks past his 72nd birthday. When I hear the lyrics of Running Up That Hill, I think about death. The first time I heard it was during the season four premiere of The OC and a scene about grief.  Someone asked me recently which hardships I've lived through wouldn't I change and why? I gave them about a ten point answer that I'm still thinking about. I carry the weight of death on my soul every day and I wouldn't change any of it for any reason. I don't say that lightly. Living with cerebral palsy is hard sometimes. Living in the aftermath of my parents life of addiction, dysfunction, mental illness, ...

The Summer I turned ten, I had my second bilateral release surgery on my hamstrings and heel cords. They “Say God only gives you, what you're strong enough to handle. Then I must be pretty goddamn strong” (Jewel, “No More Tears”). I remember this surgery vividly because I spent most of the summer laid up in full leg casts. I wasn't supposed to bend my legs and for a good portion of time I wasn't supposed to try and walk around either. Even though my friends came to visit, I had toys, and video games at my disposal. I remember that feeling of being trapped. At this point spending summers recovering from a surgery was pretty common. It's part of the reason I never did another bilateral release. I was supposed to do that when I turned 18 and opted out because I was tired of having surgery.  I don't know why I paused on a photo of me in those leg casts as I was reflecting on that Jewel quote above because it's only one of many things to build my resilien...

“Driving down the 101, California here we come, right back where we started from” (Phantom Planet, “California “). Twenty-two years ago, I fell in love with a show not written for me, but one I identified with both then and now. The OC is easily one of my favorite TV shows of all time. When it first aired on TV, I was eighteen going on nineteen, I was in one of many life transitions. I was a year out of high school, still finding my place in the world. I identified with parts of the Ryan and Seth character experiences. I wasn’t cool, I’m still not cool, but I don’t worry about that as an adult. At the time the show aired, I related to the Seth character for those reasons, even though I’ve never been into the band Death Cab or graphic novels. I related to his longing to be with someone who was never gonna notice him. Yet, the Ryan character’s background was even more relatable to me. He came from a life of instability and well-meaning people took him under their wing. Over two decades l...