How Dare I Have a Hobby

I am not in a good place today.  Wasn’t in a good place yesterday, but I thought maybe sleep would help.

No such luck.

I have a hobby that I love very much.  It is exhibiting my dogs in conformation.  You know what I don’t love?  The assumption that because I am disabled, I am not supposed to have hobbies.  That I am supposed to be broken down and miserable for the rest of my entire life, or I don’t “deserve” to call myself disabled, or to ask for help from the government (disability).

Here’s a fucking newsflash, people.  I spend most of every goddamned day miserable in one way or another, and trying to fake my way through it so I don’t make everyone around me miserable.

You know what my day consists of?  Nothing.  Absomotherfuckinglutely NOTHING!  I have a daily trip to Walmart, which is all of a whopping five minutes away, because I cannot drive much anymore.  Oh, I have my license still, and I’m judicious with it, but I cannot drive terribly long distances, and not more than a couple hours a day unless I have somebody with me, like I’m a damned child.

You know how I afford showing dogs?  My (wonderful) mother helps me when she can, to keep me from go absolutely stark raving fucking mad, because I DON’T DO ANYTHING ELSE!  There’s nothing else for me to do!

I go to doctors appointments, I take my animals to the vet when necessary, and otherwise, I sit the fuck at home, because at 28 @#$*(#&*(@# years old, I can’t go out by myself very often anymore.

The dog shows I go to are generally within an hour of home.  Any farther than that and I take a buddy, because I just cannot drive that far on my own without fear of injury.  There are some extremely rare exceptions.

You know how long I’m in the ring with a dog when I show in conformation? Two to five minutes.  A whopping TWO TO FIVE MINUTES!  And in that time, I struggle to stand, I drag my feet (literally) as I take my dog around the ring, and pray to the universe that I don’t make an ass of myself and fall in front of the judge.

And I never look as good on Sunday as I do on Saturday.

By the time the Sunday show rolls around, the fighting to stand is a lot more obvious, I am constantly asked “Are you ok?” and I pseudo lie and say “I’m fine”.  I’m not not fine, but I certainly am not “right” either.  I am just used to the struggle, because it is a daily one.

I’m supposed to hide the achievements I have accomplished with my bitch, because it looks like I’m not disabled.  Here’s a motherfucking shock for everybody.  SOMETIMES PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES DON’T LOOK DISABLED!!!!!!!!!

I recently went to the GSDCA national with my friend Alyshia (who did 99% of the driving, because I was not able).  I helped steward rally, but was only able to do timing because I wasn’t able to bend over and pick things up or do a lot of walking.

On Thursday, my bitch was exhibited in conformation.  I did not show her because the ring was far too large and I knew I would not make it around.  I instead gave her to somebody I trust to handle, and took a digger whilst trying to double.


By late that evening, I was barely functional.  I was hunched over, my feet were dragging, and I had to work to get into my own damn van.  The next day (Friday), walking was a chore, and I did not do much of it.  I sat and watched everything unless I needed to hobble somewhere to help with my stewarding duties.

I literally stumbled through my rally run with my dog, who scored a lowly 84 because I was unable to demand better work from him.  He titled, but it wasn’t the title run I had been hoping for.

You know what I’ll be doing today?  The same thing I do every day.  Nothing.  I’ll sweep the floors and vacuum up, do some dishes if there are any in the sink, and let the dogs in and out of the house.  I’ll probably run to Walmart later for no real reason other than to get out of the damn house.

But fuck me.  How dare I have a hobby to try and avoid this whole mess right here *gesturing wildly to blog*.  How dare I have something that makes it moderately worthwhile to get the fuck out of bed (at any point in the day…if I can at all).

Shame on me.  SHAAAAAAME!!!!!!!!

Flail on,
 – Classical Spazz

~ by ClassicalSpazz on October 18, 2013.

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