KosAbility is a community diary series posted at 5 PM ET every Sunday and Wednesday by volunteer diarists. This is a gathering place for people who are living with disabilities, who love someone with a disability, or who want to know more about the issues surrounding this topic. There are two parts to each diary. First, a volunteer diarist will offer their specific knowledge and insight about a topic they know intimately. Then, readers are invited to comment on what they've read and/or ask general questions about disabilities, share something they've learned, tell bad jokes, post photos, or rage about the unfairness of their situation. Our only rule is to be kind; trolls will be spayed or neutered.
I wouldn't necessarily call myself a shut-in. It's just that I never like to go anywhere and do anything... okay so maybe I'm a shut-in. I don't get out very much and I kind of like it that way. I've never gotten along with people too well. I haven't had friends since high school ended and a lot of people just stare at my wheelchair as if it's a novel thing to see someone sitting down. It's just easier for me to stay at home instead of dealing with my anxiety over the stares I get. And really, it saves a lot of money. I don't get all that much money anyway since I'm on SSI, so trying not to spend extra works out great.
I drive. Despite being in a wheelchair, I managed to get a license, but not until I was nineteen. I went through driving school for a long time, to learn how to drive hand controlled vehicles. Even then, I only got my license at the last minute. It was kind of funny - I was trying to move out of my parents' house into this low income apartment at nineteen. But I couldn't drive and the apartment is sort of in the middle of nowhere. Despite practicing driving and going to driving school I was terrible at it. This was partly because learning hand controls was difficult, but a lot of it was related to the reason I wanted to get out of the house in the first place - my parents are nuts. Ever try learning how to drive when the stepfather who rides with you had threatened to kill you in the past, and he still yelled at you at every opportunity, every tiny little screw-up? And they expected me to succeed?
So anyway, at the last minute I decided to go take my driving test, before I moved out. I knew that realistically once I moved out I could still get a ride to go take the test whenever I wanted, but I didn't want to have to rely on that. At the very least, I thought, I'd take it and they'd tell me what I still needed to work on to be able to pass. It would be a good starting point.
Except I passed. Um, yeah. So literally days before I moved into my own place I had my license, and a truck. For someone not used to very much freedom - again, not only are my parents nuts but I'm a paraplegic - this was more than I'd ever hoped for.
But pretending that I valued it so much that I just spend all my time out doing things would be a lie. At first it was great. I was thrilled to have so much independence and freedom, for once, despite being hindered by the inability to walk. As time passed, though, it got really old going out in public only to be stared at and ignored. I wasn't making new friends. And for awhile I was enjoying myself, but then, I wasn't. It became more of a hassle to be out. It was just another chance to feel more worthless. And I didn't want that. So I stay around my place. I don't get out or talk to people and I don't waste anymore time trying to make friends.
But then Netroots Nation happened last year. I applied for a DFA scholarship and I won. This was partly because I am awesome (heh) and partly because I actually 'campaigned' for votes - I wrote diaries here, begged people on blogs to vote for me, begged my internet friends to vote for me, even met new people on OkCupid and asked them to vote for me. I actually didn't qualify to win because of votes - I didn't make the top three. They apparently liked my writing and activism, which was cool. So I won. And I went.
I was basically a shut-in, and I'd be traveling from south Alabama to Las Vegas, Nevada, completely on my own, to meet new people I only know online. I made the arrangements myself and planned as much as I could. You have to picture a paraplegic who's been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and who's on medication, doing this. Hauling a huge suitcase and himself across the country to go to a convention he didn't even think he'd win a scholarship for. I applied because I thought it'd be interesting if I made it into the top - not because I actually thought it would happen.
So I flew across the country, without help. The only assistance I had in making the trip was the ride my sister gave me to the airport so I didn't have to leave my truck there. But I did it all myself. It was difficult and I was nervous as hell. Worried I would get lost. Worried it would be too awkward. I even thought I might freak out in the crowds of people, especially considering they were all new people. But I did surprisingly well.
Getting out of this place was a great idea after all. I basically agonized over a trip in which I ended up encountering very few setbacks that were easily rectified. And not only that, but I had such amazing experiences. And I got to meet an extremely brave activist who I've personally admired for awhile - Dan Choi (who's extremely nice in person, by the way, and way too modest.) I got to have a long conversation with Senator Merkley about LGBT rights. I met Evan Wolfson, who's been a marriage equality activist since the Hawaii Supreme Court said that gay marriage bans require strict scrutiny (in other words, they are presumptively unconstitutional) in Baehr v. Lewin in 1993 (the case that led to the Hawaii constitutional amendment leaving marriage laws up to the legislature, and also the eventual passage of DOMA.) I also met Kerry Eleveld, formerly of The Advocate. I did so many awesome things that I never imagined I'd actually be doing in real life.
And I did it despite about a thousand things that should have stopped me or slowed me down. It's difficult not to feel good about that. It's an accomplishment in a lot of ways, and it was a definite confidence-builder. Before I did that, I wasn't sure I could. God knows I had my family telling me I couldn't do it and that it was a mistake, every chance they got. My sister later told me that my mom was very shocked and didn't think I would make it. So on top of everything else, it was a nice little "fuck you" to the people who think I'm incapable of doing things just because I'm a little disabled.
I would definitely recommend it if you are also a shut-in. It's liberating, and it helped my confidence a whole lot. I'm going back to Netroots Nation this year in Minneapolis, and not only that, but after Netroots Nation is over, I'll be taking Amtrak to visit my longtime friend in Chicago for a few days, before heading home. We are planning on, among other things, looking at low-income apartments there so I can try to get into one and get the hell out of Alabama - something I've wanted to do since I was old enough to be aware of my surroundings.
So, I guess my advice would be: if you're stuck at home, try to get out some. It's a great experience, even with the terrifying aspects of dealing with the unknown. It's worth it. If it weren't I wouldn't be doing it again this year.