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Rated: · Non-fiction · Experience · #1889808
A day in my life and living with disabilities
The morning is beautiful. Cool, comfortable, inviting. I am ready to tackle the world.

I take my bath. Rest for little while. I cannot eat. There is not enough energy. I have to go to the bank today.

Two hours later, I am headed for my car. Okay so far. The drive is wonderful. Not much traffic and the wind in my hair feels so good.

The bank. The “Friendly” bank. I cannot get the door open. I look again. No, there are no buttons to open the doors. I use my car keys to knock on the glass doors hoping someone will see me and come and open the door. Fifteen minutes later, YES, another customer. He opens the door for me. I see another set of doors. He also opens those. Just as I enter, I am greeted by a young man, not over 25, who welcomes me to the bank and asks how can the bank help me today.  “I just need to make a deposit and order some checks.” He wonderfully offers to point me in the direction of a teller. How sweet! But wait, I am not blind, I simply cannot walk well, or open doors. But okay.

The teller is good enough to take the deposit and give me the prerequisite copies I will need to prove I am alive. I am so relieved it is all over. She calls over the young man, “Ben”, to help me open the doors. About half way to the door I remember I am supposed to order checks. He turns and addresses the teller. She assures me she will put in the order so I do not have to go all the way back to her station. I just want to get out of there.

Back in the car. Wow. I made it. I start the car and look at the gauges. I need gas.

I get to the gas station, fill up the car and go to the front door. Again, I am unable to open it. Fortunately there was another customer about to enter. I do not have to wait this time. I pay for my gas and proceed to the door again and wait and wait. It is a long way back to the counter to ask for help. I wait. Soon another customer is about to leave and opens the door for me.

Finally, on my way home. I am beat. I look up and the interstate is at a standstill. Oh No! Not another 911 call. I cannot breathe the exhaust that long. Just as suddenly as the standstill occurred, it went away. I am back on my way yet again. Five hours after I try to start my journey this day, I return home. Unreal. But then so is my life these days.  At least here at home I can control my environment. I can control my life to some extent.

Home. Finally. My prison. My sanctuary. My haven. My hell.
© Copyright 2012 Meggan Malloy (meggan-malloy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1889808-Home-Prison-Sanctuary-Haven-Hell