[DamonK]

Originally Posted by SuperFemme

I want to say something about the word "victim" because it gets thrown around a lot.

I know that for *me* I was a victim. Of a drunk driver. I had to go through that period of shock and awe that happens when you wake up from a coma and don't know who you are or where you or even your name.

I know that some of us were born with different abilities, some of us acquired them from traumatic things and some of us have illnesses which got us in the club.

It is normal (i think) to grieve for what you've lost, what you know will never be, and sometimes from frustration of not feeling "enough".

So some of us are stuck in that mode of grieving for longer than others. Some of us never get out of that space. That's just the way it is.

With that being said, I don't think it's fair for us (the collective us) to label people victims in such a negative context.

I think *I* am the one that gets to decide if victim fits me. I could be wrong, but it feels oogie to me to use the word in a negative context when talking about other people.

What else could we use? Idea's?

I tend to think of "stuck" when thinking about the times I've not been able to fight my way out of the darkness.

First part, in reference to grieving:

It may sound odd, and I'll explain why in a moment, but I am 28 and at times I still grieve for what I don't have.

Hmm, funny that. I've been this way since birth. It's...awkward...to grieve for something that is the ONLY thing you've ever known. I don't know what it's like to see with two eyes, or to suddenly jump in a swimming pool on a whim. I don't know a world without checking my pockets before work, "Do I have hearing aid batteries?" In fact, last week, without thinking about it, I took 2 packs to work! I don't know a world where, in some instances, I politely nod, and read lips to finish a conversation, or a sentence, then say, "Could you please excuse me a moment?" then turn, and quickly change batteries, because my hearing aid is beeping at me and driving me batty, saying "Change me change me."

It's possessed. I swear it is.

Point is, I don't know another world, but these thoughts are what I have everyday, and situations I find myself in fairly often. Simple facts of my life.

Which leads me to point two:

I do NOT consider myself a victim.

I consider myself lucky.

You see, back then, with my situations... I shouldn't be alive today. My mom, around my birthday, calls me, crying, every year, still amazed and thankful that I pulled through -- 28 years later. And every year, there's one story she tells me. It's a story of grief, and resignation. But it's a reminder that miracles do exist. And I'll even share it.

My doctor's name was Dr. McGee. He was my doctor until I was about 7 I think. I don't know. I still remember sometimes he'd look at me with wonder on his face. Back then I didn't understand why. Now I do. Not long after my birth, Doc went to my mom's hospital room, crying. Doc was in street clothes, off duty... He told Mom how sorry he was and how he didn't think I'd make it through the night. I'd taken a bad downhill turn.

That is the only part of the story I remember. It connects the dots for me what I had to fight through to make it.

For me, at least, one thought crosses my head? How can I consider myself a victim when I know how lucky I am to be alive?

Then the annoyance over batteries seems quite insignificant when I remember....