I Am Enough

I have recently run into some old friends... it's an interesting thing because I realized I have two kinds of old friends at this point; those I simply lost touch with and loved to see again, and those that stepped away when I needed them the most and have no desire to see them again.

I saw a friend I lost touch with and we picked up recounting the things we've missed in each other's lives, discovering our paths have brought us both to a more active lifestyle. It was fun to show each other pictures and talk about the things we've been doing and how we've grown. We had lost touch before I went into the wheelchair, so I explained that along with the things I've been doing; she focused on my smile and my accomplishments, congratulated me on the things I've done. Proud that I pushed forward.

And then there was a friend that quietly walked away as I dealt with so much loss, claiming I wasn't the same person or everything I was going through was too much for them. There was no catching up, there were no pictures. There was a question; how did we lose touch and why didn't you call? The question was aimed at me and felt like an accusation. How? Quite honestly, you walked away when I had no fight left and probably didn't even notice. When I did notice, I wasn't quite me yet. And why? I didn't call because by the time I was me again I decided I didn't need you. You left me to fight my demons on my own, and now that they're "gone", you don't deserve to know the person I've become.

I keep this picture in my phone to remind myself how far I have come, both mentally and physically. The 2014 picture was taken about a year after I started using a wheelchair, the 2017 picture was taken  about a year after I finally took some control over what I was doing. I went from skinny arms and no chest to becoming quite muscular. From being happy to just keep moving to moving with a purpose. From one sport and drowning in it to discovering so many sports, making new friends, and finding what I truly love doing. Most importantly, I went from tagging along behind everyone's suggestions and pushes to carving my own path. Unapologetically. And triumphantly.

You see, my demons will never be entirely gone. I will have bouts of depression, doubt, and anxiety. I will miss using my legs. I will let grief wash over me, or succumb to it at unexpected times. I will throw tantrums about my medical world and wish I could just take a break.

I'm also going to share my triumphs and encourage others in theirs. I will do my best to keep a smile and a hug on hand for those who need it. I will be proud of myself in my improvements and happy to share them.

Those that are still in my little world are those that are ready to handle both, and should expect the same from me. Those that avoid the bad and just come in for the good are not welcome. And that may be my biggest change yet... realizing that I am enough. I am worthy of sharing all of me, not just what I think others want to see.

Powerlifting and Inspiration

Yesterday, I participated in my very first powerlifting competition... and I was called an inspiration quite a few times. For once, I didn't mind it. Let me explain why..

At most sports events, as soon as I show up or simply start, I'm called an inspiration and I just want to throw a tantrum at that point. I want to tell them they should wait until I finish, wait until I've done something other than prove I chose to keep pushing rather than lay in bed and wait to die because that seems to be what most people think they would do if they were to put in my situation. Seriously, I should start charging a dollar every time someone tells me something along the lines of "I don't know what I would do if I had to use a wheelchair." You'd use the damn wheelchair! You'd figure out how to make shit work! Now give me a dollar.

But I digress...

At the competition, everyone was very nice, but I was mostly left to my own devices. I think I was the only one that came on my own (except for knowing a couple of the judges!), so they stayed to their groups, and I stayed at the edges simply observing. When it finally got to the bench and I needed to warm up, a couple of them offered help if I needed it, started talking to me a bit more as my weights went up, and one really liked Saber's spokes. The real change came when I then warmed up for the deadlift.

The woman on the left told me I had just shocked the hell out of her when she looked over and saw me standing with the bar. She told me it was awesome. She told me I was an inspiration. She told me that's not something she says much because it took her a long time to accept it, herself... she's now got Inspire tattooed on her wrist. I told her that I don't usually accept it because it's usually said to me at first impression, but because she said it after watching me all day and seeing me do something that no one expected, it meant a lot to me.

After my first round with the deadlift, one of the guys that had offered help earlier also told me I was an inspiration. He told me that he regularly helps a friend that uses a wheelchair and he had watched with his jaw dropped when I headed up for the deadlift. He asked why I use the wheelchair, what I do to train, and what kind of strength I had. He's been training with his friend to help with his transfers and he was so proud of how hard he works to get as far as he's gotten. Even with my differences, he said it's obvious that I work hard and he was proud of me as well. He also teased me that next time I should "put some weight on that bar!"

So I started the day off kind of on the outside, but by the end of the day I had everyone cheering for me and asking which competition I would be at next.. and I taught them all a little something about assuming what I can and cannot do.

Bench 40kg; Deadlift 85kg; for a total of 125kg and a gold medal!