Closure.

I read somewhere once that writing was the only way oneself could truly end a thought. So, as much as I feel like self-pity, I'm going to write about it. Yepp, I'm going to put all my thoughts about my disability on this "page."

Isn't that wonderful? I actually have a physical disability.

When I was born, life was great for me. At least, the first ten hours were. That was when the doctor came in and said that something was wrong. My carefree life lasted ten hours. Within a month my life was full of doctors, casts, and pain.

I can't remember much when I was a kid; just the facts stand out. I walked when I was eighteen months. Couldn't play the games that everyone did in gym. In fifth grade I sprained my ankle. Crutches were excruciating for me- so I was the only kid in a wheelchair for two weeks. They had to get me a special desk for that time, and mom had to visit multiple times with pain medication for me. I remember the first day we had tried crutches, but I was sobbing by the end of the day.

Being born the way I was changed my life. Sometimes, when I'm thinking about my feet, I realize that I had two options in life. If I had been born normal, I would've been this skinny "prep" who listened to all the hot music. I truly believe that. Yet I wasn't born that way. Not being able to use my ankles in any way exercise-wise caused me to be the "shape" I am today. I became depressed about things and turned to the angry music. Black started dominating all other colors in my wardrobe. I was singled out in school and picked on every chance they got. Things became really, really bad. Yet no one in my family noticed.

I've struggled with this ever since I was a kid. Wearing flip flops would cause stares, people asking where the scars came from. Having to explain fourteen years of pain is a lot more complicated than it sounds.

If I wear pants or jeans, people can't tell I'm different. It was the same with wearing high-tops. No one could ask about the scars if they couldn't see them. Things became easier. That is, until the pain became worse than it'd ever been.

We went to multiple doctors. Some couldn't help us- the process wasn't used anymore and they wouldn't know where to start. Others gave me deadlines, numbers. Telling me that I'd be in a wheelchair permanately by this age, I'd need surgery by this age, etc.

I hated being different- I still hate being different. I can't grasp why I had to be born this way. Normal doesn't apply to any part of my life, except those ten hours. Gym is out of the question. I'll never be able to wear high heels and go clubbing while I'm in college. I can't hang with my friends the way I want. I can't jump about at concerts- or even stand for lengthy periods. My teenage years will be spent inside, unable to go running about at the mall. I can't even wear my converses anymore because I have to fit braces and inserts into my shoes.

The more research I do about clubfoot, the more depressed I become. My case was more severe than the severe cases I read about. Why is it that they can lead mostly normal lives, and I can't?

.::.Beauty(and other things).::.

Society's view of beauty has drastically changed over the years. Now, beauty lies in money and expense. Back in the early 1900's, women were beauty, in all shapes and sizes. Of course, it's right to assume that as the world changes, so do our values, but I guess it's a gradual, hidden change.
Our society today is pathetic when conversing about values. Respect is miniscule- even non-existant. Majority of teenagers are materialistic(to the extreme), only caring for their phones, iPods, and other belongings. In the eye of the public, there is no privacy; everything is plastered upon pages of magazines for all to see. Women are objects in the eyes of some people, and the men use them when they please. Songs, if you're willing to stretch that title, are only about alcohol, sex, and women. Rap has become the top genre, while it's also the top in disrespect. In a way, beauty has died.
On the other side of society, the "outcasts", there is beauty. In my view at least. Music is meaningful, singing about actual problems and topics. Majority of teenagers are not materialistic here, they value what they have- both objects and people. They have more respect than those who "fit in."
I seem to be painting a twisted picture here. If you will, a war between two sides- those who fit in, and those who don't.
No one seems to understand the true meaning of beauty anymore.
"the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest)."
Seems that beauty is everything, in one way or another. If you truly wanted, I suppose one could find beauty in all of existence.