This piece written in 2000.
You will also want to read the original article about my experiences as a viewer of the 1996 Paralympics:
Four years ago, when the Paralympics were on it Atlanta, USA, I wrote about my feelings as I watched the disabled athletes perform. Last month the Paralympics returned, and this time just 1000km from where I live. I dearly wanted to get to see the competition and ceremonies live, but was too sick to travel, so I had to be content with my television again. What's changed?
This time, ABC TV - our local national broadcaster - put much more of the Paralympics on television. The entire opening and closing ceremonies were broadcast live, and several hours every day of competition were on TV. My local radio station also broadcast updates every half an hour so I was kept up to date with what was going on. I think this reflects a general shift in community attitudes - the general public now considers disability and the activities of disabled people more important than it did four years ago.
I've changed too. Four years ago I had been sick for only 2 years and was right on the edge between feeling like "a sick person" (which feels like a temporary state) and feeling like "a disabled person" (which feels like a more permanent state). I've been sick for six years now, and with no end in sight I definitely feel like "a disabled person". So watching the paralympics wasn't such a challenge to my identity this time. I could calmly look and think, "Yes, I'm somewhat like that" and be proud of them - instead of being challenged.
And yes, the Paralympics is still full of stories of determination, stories of overcoming barriers. And, yes, the TV coverage - being aimed at the general population - is still playing up this aspect. But four years ago I let this make me feel like a failure. Now I can look at it and part of me thinks, "It's okay, not all disabled people are Super-Cripple. Small achievements matter too" ... and the other part of me thinks, "Look what I've done - I can write and draw and be patient and have great friends and look after mailing lists and be a published author!
It's still true that I have CFS and FMS, illnesses which seem self-defeating. The harder I push to try to achieve things, the sicker I get. No amount of courage and determination will ever get me any healthier, any more able to study, or work ... let alone to play sport. Time may do that, will do that, but physical struggling will not.
This still makes me jealous of those with the type of disabilities where they can struggle and achieve. I especially wish to have a "conventional" disability - one which people understand better. But I'm okay with it now. After all, I'm jealous of healthy people too, I guess it's natural to be jealous of people who have abilities that you don't possess.
I ended my article of four years ago with the phrase, "It's all very well to suddenly have a brick wall built in front of you, but they could at least have left a rope ladder for me to climb". I still wish for that rope ladder, but today I'm able to think of wandering off in another direction and ignoring the wall, of borrowing a digger and burrowing under, and of painting the wall bright red instead of climbing it. I've come a long way.
You will also want to read the original article about my experiences as a viewer of the 1996 Paralympics:
