Life as a Man with a Disability: The Truth Behind the Mask

Historically, men have always been looked upon as the provider, the stoic presence even when things get hard. We go to work, provide for our families, and don’t say a word, no matter what may go on inside. When and if we can’t provide, they find someone who will, as is their right in the eyes of most. All this is done without regard to the man or how he feels. He is expected to provide, protect, and nurture a family. His feelings and thoughts often come second, if that. If you have a disability or anything that calls into question your ability to provide, you may be predisposed to trust issues, knowing that the one you love could pull up stakes at a moment’s notice in favor of someone more “capable” and leaving you broken and callous. I know, because I’m there.

I’ve never used my cerebral palsy as an excuse for anything. I’ve made mistakes that led me down very dark paths and at one point, left me on the brink of emotional and financial ruin. My cerebral palsy didn’t cause that, at least not directly. As the years go by however, I wonder if I didn’t dodge as many metaphorical bullets as I thought. I wonder if my CP did indeed cause some of my problems through impaired judgment and reasoning. I never wanted to admit that it affected my brain. I was supposed to be part of the exception, not the rule. It didn’t affect my brain, not in any ways I care to admit, anyway. But the more I live with it, the more I get to know my own rationalizations of everything that happens. That’s the funny thing about sitting down and writing this stuff. It forces me to be objective with certain subjects. A lot of my content is based on my own opinions, but even the most opinionated columnist has at least a shred of truth in his prose. So CP has affected my brain in the way of reasoning. One thing that I know doesn’t escape me is the thought of being a man with a disability. It can be a dismal path to walk, and I’m going to attempt to give you a look at it.

My parents had three kids. I’m the oldest of them. Both of my siblings have stable jobs. My sister is married and had a son last August. My brother pours concrete for a living and has become fairly proficient at it. My skill is with the pen. It took me far too long to finally realize, and I’ll admit I’ve put myself behind the proverbial 8-Ball in the process. As the oldest, I should be the one looking out for my younger siblings; that’s how it works right? I’ve always felt like it’s the other way around in my case because of my circumstances. That’s something I never expected, and it’s hard to deal with sometimes. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t cause me to distance myself from my family to some extent. It only got worse as time went on. It came to a point at which I could express any emotion I wanted if I was in a relationship with someone or if I was around my close friends, but when it came to family, there were certain emotional receptors that were shut off. That’s still true today unfortunately, but as I share these things with you, I find it easier to pinpoint certain issues and work on them gradually.

If I were to give any advice on this subject, it would be to pay no attention to external opinions, as hard as that may be. It was others’ opinions of me that dominated my thought process for far too long, and it was for the very reason I wrote this article. I questioned my ability to develop and maintain relationships outside of my family, and that doubt caused me to employ questionable methods in order to achieve that goal. I wasn’t good for much but I had a job and could make money. That became how I maintained certain relationships. Instead of resolving my internal conflicts and focusing my energy on bettering myself, I retreated to the false comfort of temporary friendships based on monetary considerations. When that inevitably blew up in my face, I became distant from everyone. Even my family–especially my family-suffered the consequences of what was my own fault.

I would eventually start making better decisions regarding who I surrounded myself with. My ability to connect with people improved. I’m still working on the family part. My family knows I love them and appreciate the support they’ve given me over the years. But it bothers me that I still have trouble expressing it. It’s an issue that I now admit I’ve always had. It’s the exact reverse of what should happen in cases like this. Even with my natural understanding of basic human psychology, I still can’t bring myself to understand it. Perhaps I feel like my condition has made me the family’s big disappointment, or God forbid the family charity case. Maybe the thought of not being what I could have been because of my choices early in life has caused me to face inward and close myself off to the ones who have done what they wanted to do in life. I’m now able to admit that I felt small among the more successful members of my family. Now that I’ve been able to pinpoint that flaw through expressive discovery, maybe I can finally work on it.

I will never forget the people who have stuck with me through everything, good times and bad, family or not. I also won’t forget the people who, if you’ll pardon the cliche, left for greener pastures when things were at their worst. The latter caused me to wonder, as a man with a disability, if I could provide for a family in the way men have been expected in society over the years. I will concede they were right to leave. My life had no direction. I was tiring myself out running in place while trying to figure out which way to go. But what gives me the most anxiety is the thought of doing something I enjoy doing and being able to support a family while doing it. Why would that give me anxiety? Let me answer that question with one of my own. What happens when the money stops coming in and things get a little tough? Is it possible that I’d find someone that would stay and weather the storm with me? Yes it’s possible. But how likely is it when there are so many men out there with no limitations? That’s the part that scares me, mostly because I’m the type that would want someone I care about to be safe and comfortable, even if I wasn’t the one providing the safety and comfort. I’ve reached the point in my life where I won’t accept anything less than someone I can’t imagine my life without, and who can’t imagine life without me. The question remains, though, is that possible? It may be a painful road, but there’s only one way to find out.

Through the self-discovery that I expect from my writing, I’ve slowly learned that although it seemed that way at first, my problems and fears are not always unique to me. I firmly believe that all men are predisposed to expecting more of themselves. There are always times in which the ability to provide for oneself and their family comes into question; it’s human nature. It’s not limited to those who may have different circumstances. You should never worry yourself with losing someone or something if your situation changes for some reason. Always remember that earthly possessions are temporary, and if someone doesn’t want to be in your life because your life hit a rough patch, they probably weren’t meant to be there. Let me end this with a piece of advice I wish I’d followed years ago. Stay true to yourself and the right people will find you.