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Thread: Envy

  1. #21
    Quote Originally Posted by flicka View Post
    In my opinion, those of us with disabilities are constantly cycling through the 5 stages of grief. I think you are actually feeling anger, not envy.
    Brilliant!

  2. #22

    Thanks for replies

    I think job loss, increased neuro pain and a long battle of osteomyelitis has me weary and too sensitive about other's actions. You guys have good perspective. Thanks.

  3. #23
    Senior Member anban's Avatar
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    my perspective is that you don't think about it, until you're living it. before I was injured it never EVER occurred to me that this life could exist. Probably just like I don't think about what it must be like to live with a terminal disease, but for those who are terminal, it's always the elephant in the room.

  4. #24
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    I DO though have an approach, I really do not care how long it takes me to do something. I do not compare that to uninjured. I DO CARE, that I simply can do "it." If I can do it I always think I will get better at it. Once again, I do not care how long it takes me to get better. I do get excited about very simple things that I am sure uninjured never even thought of. Those things do "pump" me up. I keep thinking I will get good enough at it that I am not even aware I am doing it. This is tough and I do ride a mental roller coaster of sky is the limit and in the toilet.

  5. #25
    Senior Member Imight's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tjcpara View Post
    The feeling crops up a lot for me, especially when many able-bodied family members barely acknowledge you, your abilities and unfortunately your limits. They also seem to never have to pay the piper in their own lives and go merrily on. Any advice?
    What are they supposed to do? I actually prefer nobody mention my injury and pretend it doesn't exist. It helps me pretend it's not there either. Don't look at me like I'm made out of glass, and don't grab my chair for me. In fact, don't even look at me, just pretend I'm not there. I prefer that. God how I wish it were like that.

  6. #26
    Senior Member lynnifer's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Imight View Post
    In fact, don't even look at me, just pretend I'm not there. I prefer that.
    That was TOTALLY ME as a teenager with paralysis. Exactly me.
    Roses are red. Tacos are enjoyable. Don't blame immigrants, because you're unemployable.

    T-11 Flaccid Paraplegic due to TM July 1985 @ age 12

  7. #27
    Senior Member lynnifer's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Scaper1 View Post
    "Paying the piper," if I understand correctly, isn't about wishing anyone ill, but rather speaks to the frustration of not getting a second chance when it seems like most others do. That's the particular cruelty of sci. There's no appeal process. No amount of remorse or making amends will fix it.
    I'm going to be writing some letters to our government soon and I'd really love to quote you on that!
    Roses are red. Tacos are enjoyable. Don't blame immigrants, because you're unemployable.

    T-11 Flaccid Paraplegic due to TM July 1985 @ age 12

  8. #28
    There are positive days, there are negative days, but the disability is there. You are correct on paying the piper definition.

  9. #29
    SCI from crashing my racebike. A few months later I sold all my unused race-tires from the basement to a guy my age. He came to the house to pick them up.

    I was talking about my accident and the disability and trying to be positive about it all. But the look in his eyes was pure pity for me. Nothing I could say to this man could shake that look that said "you poor bastard you are so fucked in that wheelchair".

    He only took half the tires and never came back for the other half.

    Turns out the guy, who could not hide his pity for me, had just 2 days to live before being killed in his truck driving home. He left a wife and 2 babies.....

    Funny old world....

  10. #30
    Senior Member Imight's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by MarkB701 View Post
    SCI from crashing my racebike. A few months later I sold all my unused race-tires from the basement to a guy my age. He came to the house to pick them up.

    I was talking about my accident and the disability and trying to be positive about it all. But the look in his eyes was pure pity for me. Nothing I could say to this man could shake that look that said "you poor bastard you are so fucked in that wheelchair".

    He only took half the tires and never came back for the other half.

    Turns out the guy, who could not hide his pity for me, had just 2 days to live before being killed in his truck driving home. He left a wife and 2 babies.....

    Funny old world....
    jesus christ.

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