Silence as a Blessing

Every day the phone rings or someone expects to talk to me about something. Some days I just can't talk outside of meeting with people, talking to the bus driver, other people who stop and converse, etc. This is my world. All attempts to try to fake it til I make it when it comes to talking seem to fail. I try to use humor, I try to do positive things, and always someone wants more of what I feel I don't have, or that I actually do have yet is a very painful thing to give.

Because of the importance of the spoken word, sometimes I would prefer not to be on this world. Sometimes the choice of being selfish and wanting to breathe and wanting to connect with others and feel I'm losing precious air, is a decision I am unable to make for the good of others.
For some reason, the more I talk to people, even in really wonderful and enjoyable conversations, in the aftermath I find myself wanting to vow to never talk to anyone again. It's not at all about the person, the people, the topic of conversation. It's about the exhaustion and pain that comes with trying to keep focused on the use of speech while I try to balance breathing.
"You sound so good!" people say. And truly I am so very grateful for that. I just wish there wasn't the constant pain and battle to talk and breathe. Some people tell me I'm lucky that I have a chair because it makes my disability visible. Well, not everything is visible. It's not that I can't communicate at all, so it's not a disability. It is just not the method that people expect or want. So I continue on because I want to connect, I love people... friends, colleagues, family, I love connections! I just wish that verbal conversation were as easy or most comfortable for me so that other people wouldn't be hurt by my inability to be available by phone very often.

I am going to work harder at providing other people the communication that they want and deserve. It's a little scary writing this here, but sometimes I think it's important to be more public in that it is not about any individual person. It is simply that speaking is not my friend anymore. I've come a long way in the past 2 years, and probably had I realized the impact that this would have on life and on relationships, I never would have gone ahead and gotten the trach.
I have, and I must be grateful for breathing.

I would however give anything to be what and who others want and need. I am not. It is sad, it's not horrible, it's just rather sad.

For me, silence and breathing are a blessing and gift. For others, my gift can be painful, and for that reason I will push forward to give more and speak more, because every person matters, not only me.

I'll push on in hopes that I can hold up to this effort, at least some of the time.
I suppose it's part of the pain of gifts and blessings.