Working just a few more years for the disabled, I stressed out, unable to work anymore, and in the middle of this, 1986, I had an incident where I tried to hurt myself by falling off a window ledge, ending up hospitalized and on several mental health medications.  Previously in 1982 I had been diagnosed as depressed, but had not stayed on medications. 

Now I was forced to do so, until I finally had myself taken off them again. I went on struggling for years until I met Remigio, my present husband, in a certified nursing class in 1990.  I went back to work for a disabled lady, Carrie, again at Center Park.  Remigio and I lived with her there until she gave up her battle to live independently and moved to a nursing home, where she died.

I and Remigio, constantly arguing due to my mental disability, married and moved into our own apartment. As he couldn't take the constant quarreling, he took me to a psychiatrist friend of his, and once again I was put on strong medications.  These hurt me physically, and in 1997 I finally came down with a severe physical disability, chronic dystonia/dyskinesia of my left arm and head.

We are presently treating this by reducing my psychiatric medications and using natural therapeutics.  But I still constantly turn to the left, having to struggle to right myself at all times; my left arm sticks straight out, and it's very difficult to bend it, or even type.

Yet I had already set myself up years ago in business as a freelance writer, copy editor, copy writer, ghost writer and website designer under the name Rainbow Writing, Inc.  I have my own website, several of them in fact, and am listed within several Internet writing agencies.  I work ten to twelve hours a day, almost seven days a week, getting there by taking frequent breaks.  I am just starting to make some money at this, and was recently hired as a full-time ghost writer by The Floating Gallery of New York City.

It's a daily struggle, and my left arm feels like it's going to break off my body at the end of my challenging day.  But it keeps me busy, and I truly love my work.  Many people have said I am blessed with extraordinary skill and talent, and I try to go a little further and learn a little more each day.

Remigio, a former psychiatric aide, certified nurse aide, and Doctor of Osteopathy, is a Godsend.  I love him as much as I loved Ron, in spite of my mental problems, which are starting to finally alleviate under Remigio's constant care and loving support.  And in 1994, we were blessed during Christmas, the same season that John Tyler died, with a beautiful little daughter, our sweet and loving Angela.

 Due to my disability, she suffered some psychological trauma, such as during the times I attempted suicide, but although partly severely disabled herself from this, she is healing and pulling through, excelling academically and socially in ways I never was able to learn.  She is a dream come true.

If I could have written something for my parents, or told them something when I was growing up, I would have told them to not fear my special challenges. I would have asked them to read about people with disabilities, which my mother did a little, reading about an anti-social little boy when she sent me to counseling.

I did not even know about disabilities when I was growing up, so I would have asked them to have taken a greater role in my upbringing, as they were often rather aloof and distant.  They didn't seem to realize that my problems were not all my own fault, but the fault of fate and my unknown, undiagnosed, untreated mental, social and physical problems.

I would tell the parents of children with similar disabilities to mine to pay more attention to their children, never blaming them for their problems, listening to them carefully and never comparing them to normal children, which shames them and only makes matters worse. I would tell them to read books about children with disabilities, and to enter any organizations for such children, exposing their own child(ren) to other, similarly-burdened children so they would have a peer group, which I did not have until adulthood.

I believe they would feel more accepted and normal that way, and a lot happier than I ever was. It would be a much more fun, healthy, and productive life for them to be surrounded with other disabled children, and to develop a healthier, more normal attitude about themselves and their disabilities.  Above all, it would help to stress their abilities and cultivate their happiness, both within their families and in society at large, as they learn and grow.

About the author:
RAINBOW WRITING, INC. -- We offer inexpensive freelance writing, copy editing, ghost writing, graphics and CAD, Internet marketing, publishing help, search engine optimization, professional free services and supercheap dedicated web hosting and site development. Copyright © 2005 by Karen Cole-Peralta.