Today I’d planned to go into town for lunch with my mum. To write a shopping list together and to go to the polish deli for the best ham. And pretzels, obviously.
When it came time to getting up I couldn’t get passed my anxiety. I wanted so badly to go into town but I was so anxious about being seen in public, especially with the risk of seeing people I knew. I sat and spoke with mum for a while, who offered many alternatives which sat more comfortably with me. But I said no, we’re going into town.
I go up, bathed and did it. Had an amazing lunch, wondered through a few shops. Not far, I can’t do far. And I couldn’t do fast. My mobility is far worse than I let on, its impact on my walking is just a small part. We didn’t go far, but I reached a point where I was struggling and regretted refusing to get my walking stick out the car. So we wobbled back to the car, got my stick and headed to the polish shop.
Now here’s the thing, I don’t know whether it’s the added stability or the fact that the fear of falling is greatly reduced, but in comparison to without, I can walk at a rate of knots with my stick. In reality it’s still far slower than most people’s normal walking pace, but for me it’s like running. It’s also the first time I’ve used my stick in my local town, aside from the odd dog walk in the fields.
There’s a huge stigma, that is entirely self imposed, around people seeing me with my stick. My family has seen it, but I’m still reluctant to use to. Until a few weeks ago, when I took my stick while walking with Ricky, none of my friends had seen me use it. I just didn’t have a choice that day, it was use the stick or cancel. I feel especially terrible when I walk passed older people, hobbling along, without walking aids. I feel like an imposter or a fake.
I managed to explain that feeling today to my mum by saying I feel like I’m in a grey area between being truly disabled and able bodied. In my mind I shouldn’t need a stick because I can walk. To which mum pointed out everyone that uses a stick can walk, hence the term walking stick. Duhhh. Like I say, self imposed and imagined stigma. That I somehow don’t meet the threshold to have help. Even from an inanimate object.
Of course we’re back in common ground here. Once again I am denying my needs.
But I don’t want to get into that again. I came here to share my win, that today I didn’t allow my anxiety to deny what I wanted to do and I used my stick in public.