Grieving Your Identity Never Ends: Disability and Travel

me trying to get alone time on an Ireland trip in 2011,
moments before someone boy wanders over
and prevents me from getting that alone time

Exactly seven months ago I wrote a blog post on grief for my past identity and who I always thought I'd become, and who I now can't be due to my disability. You'd think I might have made some progress since then, but to be honest it feels like I'm constantly finding new parts of myself to grieve, aspects of my identity that I hadn't even thought of in years or decades but were once so important to me.

If you know me currently, you probably think I abhor traveling. I find any excuse to avoid it no matter how much I actually want to be at the destination. If you knew me when I was younger, you probably remember me as a really annoying travel companion.

When I was a teenager (and maybe younger, I don't remember much from my single digits), I loved seeing and exploring new places. I never traveled for leisure - my family was too poor for vacations that weren't just camping in the woods somewhere - so I didn't see much of the world, but the opportunities I did have were amazing. I traveled around the United States for various Highland Games and Scottish Harp Competitions (where we also camped, but still). I went to Scottish Arts camp several years in a row. I got to go to Ireland three times with my high school dance company. I loved every single trip and every place I visited shaped who I am today in some form or fashion.

But the actual traveling part has always been difficult for me. In hindsight, I acknowledge that a lot of my difficulties stemmed from being neurodivergent, mentally ill kid with chronic pain who had zero diagnoses and accommodations and didn't even know I needed them. I would get so upset about my routine constantly changing, about spending so much time in cars or airplanes, about never knowing exactly what or when I would eat, about not having the option for silence and solitude. I don't think I ever had full on meltdowns, but I know I was incredibly grumpy and not fun to be around, and later I'd be ashamed of myself for being so childish when no one else was having problems. But I would still go.

Now I don't. There are so many factors to travelling that I now have to deal with. Where am I staying? Will I have a quiet place I can retreat to if I get overstimulated? Will there be ramps or elevators? Will whoever I'm with plan on walking around a lot and will someone be able to drop me off where I can sit? Will I even have access to a chair that wont make my hips and back ache? Is there even a point in going if I can't participate in the group's plans? Will I be able to eat when and what I need to? What if I have a flare up or a migraine? If I fly will I be able to keep my cane with me? What even are flight regulations for canes? Will people think I'm a paranoid hypochondriac? What if I actually am a paranoid hypochondriac? Will I just turn the whole trip into a nightmare for everyone else because I can't keep up and take out my pain on them? Will I be able to bring the four pillows I need to prop up my body so I don't subluxate anything in my sleep? What if something happens to my cats while I'm gone (one time my shitty roommates let Palmer get out and he was lost for a whole weekend and I didn't even KNOW and yes I'm still pissed about it)?

Anyway I usually just say no now.

But I don't have a lot to do these days besides think, and inevitably I've started remembering all those trips I used to take. Highland games with all the people in kilts and the constant bagpipes and the pre-competition nerves and that horrifying moment when I mispronounced Edinburgh when introducing my set and I still think that's why I didn't win that time. I remember visiting Ireland and falling in love with the rain and the green and the people and the art and thinking that I'd never stop going back there no matter what. I think of all the people I met who I thought I'd know forever. Teachers and mentors I wanted to impress. Friends I wanted to write letters to until we were old.

I stopped traveling for harp in high school when I had to choose between it and dance - but then I started traveling for dance. Later in college I got to go to more dance conventions and showcases, but by then I was starting to fall apart and spent most of the time sitting alone in coffee shops, only showing up to the concerts I was in.

And now I'm completely fallen. I drove to the liquor store the other day and that was the first time I went outside in weeks. I regretted it too, because kept missing turns because of traffic and the cashier asked if I was on a roller derby team and I just didn't know how to respond to that. I said I wasn't coordinated enough for that even though I was a professional dancer so I should be pretty damn coordinated.

Anyway.

I keep dreaming of a time when my life "calms down." As if my pain will even out and become more predictable, or I'll finally be given some treatment that helps, or I just get used to it. I don't know.

I've been reading a lot of historical romance and listening to a bizarre amount of 60s-80s rock and folk and being sad about it. I have no idea if it's helping, and I have no idea what that says about me or my mental state, but there you go.

Testimony

I'm now in my third week in Ireland. The first week we were in Monaghan with the Clarkes, then we met up with the rest of our team to do Holiday Bible Club in Ballygawley, and now we're doing the same thing in Kilmore.

 

After club we've been spending time with the teenagers, playing games and trying to break the ice. Every night one of us ballet girls shared our testimony, and it was finally my turn tonight...

 

All week the people in the Kilmore church have been encouraging us to really wear our hearts on our sleeves and be really open with the teenagers to encourage them to do the same and put them at ease with us. So when I found out I'd have to share my testimony, I wasn't sure what all I wanted to say. Normally, I do a very edited version that vaguely alludes to the possibility of something wrong in my life, but don't actually say it. Never have I shared my complete testimony with a group of people.

 

Plus, Katie, Libby, and Brianna were all there too. I hadn't talked to any of them about my depression. Would this be a good way to let them know? Or would it be cruel?

 

I kind of fought with myself all week about it and tried to figure it out and ended up stressing myself out. Last night, I was up late Skyping The Captain, explaining it all to him and asking advice. He encouraged me to say everything.

 

But so much of my testimony is so fresh, such an open wound. Normally when people share testimonies like that, it's after years and years have passed and they're all better now. I'm not all better. Years have not passed. Weeks have passed since the last really dramatic thing happened in my life, and it certainly hasn't been even a week since I thought about doing something to myself.

 

But The Captain kept saying that this opportunity was perfect and I couldn't pass it up. That I would probably help at least one person in that room. I said I'd try. I honestly didn't know if I'd be able to do it.

 

But I did.

 

I started out with the basics, and then when I got up to age 15 the unedited version came out, because that's when I first tried to hurt myself. That was when the room got deathly silent, and half the people looked up from their crisps and didn't take their eyes off me, while the other half suddenly found the floor very interesting.

 

I got through it all without crying, though I did almost tear up when at one point. My voice did get pretty shaky and by the end my face was really warm. But I got through it. The end was a little awkward, and I was just like, "Well... my voice is tired now..." and then after Katie reminded them that they could talk to us or ask us questions whenever, I was like, "Well... I'm going to go get some water now... so talk amongst yourselves." Then ran and got water and then hid in the bathroom for a while and cried a bit.

 

When I emerged to the kitchen, Kenny and Colin were both there and I walked in before realizing it. Kenny's pretty cool; I had talked to him a lot during the evening and confided that I was really nervous about having to speak to the teens. He'd started out watching me in a kind of encouraging manner, but as soon as I hit the 15 mark his gaze shot to the floor. I don't think he'd anticipated that when I'd told him how nervous I was.

 

Colin came up to me first and told me I was a very good speaker, which surprised me but encouraged me a little bit. Then Kenny moseyed over and said I did a good job. He didn't really say anything else, but I can't tell you how much I appreciated it.

 

And then Katie showed up and I kind of avoided eye contact for as long as possible, but we finally exchanged looks and then smiles and then she asked to give me a hug and I said yes and so we shared a hug. She, Brianna, and Libby were among those staring at the floor during my testimony, because none of them had expected that bombshell.

 

After all of that I felt kind of scared to face any of the teens... I felt like they were all staring at me every time I saw them again. But then it also felt like they were all a bit friendlier with me. They were all genuinely disappointed when Elise made me leave early due to my still-present headache and previous upset stomach (although it was mostly just upset because I was nervous).

 

I really hope I did help someone, that it wasn't all for nothing, me bearing my soul like that.

 

I don't know what all has changed between me, Katie, Libby, and Brianna. Katie's the only one that acknowledged it in any way, and it's probably just my imagination that Libby and Brianna were a little weird about it. It's likely that they didn't think much of it, because we aren't super best friends and so they might not think they'd had any business knowing. Katie, on the other hand... I don't know if it will ever come up in conversation again. I'm still nervous about that.

 

But I'm glad I did it. I do feel better, now that it's out. Now that I've said it once, maybe next time will be easier.

 

Our trip is almost over! I'm sad, but also happy... because I really really miss The Captain.

 

--Dexter

Lord Vizelhoffen

We're in Ireland! SUCCESS! We are big girls now. Because we officially traveled to a different country by ourselves.

 

We've already met up with the Clarkes, our old friends from last year. Andrew, Richard, Ruth, and Laura. They're all good craic ("fun"). We've played Uno and Nerts and watched the ballet and a movie and other stuff and talked and chatted and eaten and generally just chilled around for our first day here.

 

And we also made a new friend. This is Lord Vizelhoffen. Look at that fancy cape. Spots and fur and everything.

 

Katie discovered him in our room and christened him Lord Vizelhoffen. He is now our friend.

 

UPDATE: We have discovered that Lord Vizelhoffen is a germophobe.

 

UPDATE: Lord Vizelhoffen has taken flight!

 

As always, you can check the official Ireland blog over at www.weareinireland.blogspot.com!

 

--Dexter

Ireland!

Yeah, btws, I leave for Ireland SATURDAY.

Don't know why I never mentioned that. But yeah.

I've been put in charge of keeping an updated blog for the team, so check it out! http://weareinireland.blogspot.com/

The rest of the team doesn't leave until next week, but me and Katie are heading off to the land of rain and green hills early so we can visit friends in Monaghan. I should probably start packing.

But I want to have a Supernatural marathon. Decisions, decisions.

--Dexter

I Will Travel The World, I Will See The Stars.

My two best friends and I have great plans for the future.

 

Backstory: two years ago, HK and I first went to Ireland with our dance group. Then last year, we both went again with Katie. This year, Katie and I are going back but HK isn't. But that doesn't mean she doesn't want to go back...

 

So we were sitting at Ihop the other night (free pancake day!) and talking about Ireland and France and stuff, and HK suddenly said, "Let's make a promise that in five years, we'll all go back to Ireland."

 

Katie and I, naturally, were all for it. Pact made. But we didn't stop there... "And then we'll stop by France again and visit the Tauntons." "Hey, why don't we just go through all of Europe?" "Oh, we should go to Scotland!" Etcetera, etcetera...

 

So we came up with this plan. The summer after we graduate from college, the summer of 2017, we are going to go to Europe and travel. We'll spend the next four years saving up and then go, no matter how much money we've got. We'll start in Ireland and stay with our friends from previous mission trips, and then go over and spend some time in Scotland. From there, we'll go to London, and then on to France, where we'll stay with some friends who have a villa there (rich people...). Then on to Greece, and a quick stop in Venice... Up to Austria, over to Germany, and then we'll fly back to the states and spend a day in New York before going our separate ways.

 

Yes, this is happening. We all wrote down the list, signed our names, decided how much money we'd need, and figured out what languages we need to learn. We have four years to each come up with $5000-$6000 and learn French, Italian, and German.

 

I cannot tell you how excited I am. This kind of adventure is something I've always half-dreamed out, but never entertained serious thoughts about because when do these kinds of things actually happen to poor people like me? In the summer of 2017, that's when.

 

I should have a video camera by then, so boy will I get tons of footage. Diaries will be a must. Aaaaaah it's still four years away and already we've made all these plans!

 

--Dexter

I'm In Ireland.

So, my commitment to writing every week kind of failed. Sorry. But at least I'm still writing, right?

Right now I'm in Ireland. Unfortunately, it's my last day in Monaghan. It's sad. Leaving last year was pretty awful, but this year is worse because the relationships I started last year deepened this year. I'm falling more and more in love with this country and the amazing people I've been living and working with.

But I don't really want this blog to end up being sappy and meaningful, because I'm not good at writing meaningful things like that. So I'll focus on the bright side. 

I have a lot of good stories to tell, and they're all written down in this little journal I've been faithfully keeping for the past two weeks. Maybe I'll share some in a few days when I'm back home and have more leisure time (ha. ha. leisure time.). 

Tomorrow the Iona Team goes back to Dublin. We'll spend a few days there (Riverdance!) before flying back to America. Some things I'm excited about seeing again (my clothes washer, my cat, my bookshelf, my reading time), but really, I'm going to miss this place more. 

I hope I can come again next year. And the year after. And the year after. I'm secretly hoping to move here after college. What's wrong with big dreams? 

--Persy