At eighteen, my life changed in ways I never expected. I used to be a normal boy who loved playing football. Then, the GBS virus struck and took away my strength. Walking freely became a dream I couldn’t touch. After eleven years in these four walls, I still hold on to hope.
Every day is a battle between my body’s limits and my spirit’s will. I dream of seeing the world, feeling the wind, and walking freely again. Still, I remind myself that giving up isn’t an option. My life as a handicap person is painful, yet also proof of survival.
How the GBS Virus Changed My Life
It all started when I was eighteen. I never imagined that one rare nerve disease could destroy my body’s strength. The Guillain Barré Syndrome GBS virus attacked my nervous system, leaving my legs weak and unresponsive. Slowly, the world outside my room began fading away.
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There was a time when running and dancing felt effortless. I could play football all day and never tire. Today, I walk with help, each step filled with courage. Every motion reminds me of what freedom once felt like. This disease did not only take my strength, it wounded my spirit.
GBS has taught me that life’s strength can vanish in a moment. Every small action feels like reaching for the sky. But pain shaped me into someone stronger and more understanding. Though my body changed, my heart never lost its courage.
Living More Than a Decade in Isolation
For over eleven years, these four walls have been my world. I have seen seasons change through a window, not through footsteps. Every day begins and ends in the same quiet room, sealed in silence and loneliness. I have bravely accepted this life, even though it is not the one I had dreamed for.
At times, I imagine strolling through a busy street, surrounded by laughter and life. Then reality returns, heavy and cold. I long for the freedom I previously enjoyed and the sound of my footsteps.
Isolation taught me to be strong when I felt weakest. I’ve learned to enjoy the sile take joy in little things. But deep down, I still wish to see the world again, not online, but with my own eyes and steps.
My Love and Dream for Football
Football was my greatest passion before the illness. I loved running on the field, chasing the ball, and feeling the rush of victory. That dream still burns inside me, even though I cannot play anymore. Watching others play reminds me of what once made me happiest.
Every game I watch makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy, because I still love football more than anything. Sadness, because I can’t join the players anymore. Watching players run fills me with a quiet ache. I still dream of kicking that ball again, even if it never happens in reality.
Football taught me unity, focus, and the power to endure. Today, those same lessons help me battle life itself. I no longer run across the field, but my spirit still plays the game. My love for football will never fade away.
How People See Me Differently
People look at me with quiet pity, as though my pain defines me. Some stare longer than they should, others pretend I’m not there at all. I can feel their discomfort, their distance. However, the following silence is what hurts the most.
I am still the same person, with dreams and hopes like anyone else. But society tends to judge what it sees on the surface. Each time someone treats me differently, I’m reminded how hard it is to live as a handicap person.
But I have stopped expecting everyone to understand. My scars tell stories that only I can feel. I want people to see me for my strength, not my weakness. Because disability does not define me, my courage does.
My Struggles with Love and Relationships
Love has been one of my hardest battles. Whenever I open up about my condition, people disappear. Some unfriend me, others block me. It feels as if loving a handicap person is a sin. The pain in my legs is not as serious as the rejection.
All I have ever wanted was genuine love, someone who sees beyond my disability. But most people only see the wheelchair or the struggle. They do not see my heart, my humor, or my loyalty. It is heartbreaking to be judged for something I never chose.
Still, I believe in love. Somewhere in this wide world, someone will love me without fear or judgment. Until that day, I’ll nurture hope within my heart. For love, much like life, deserves to be fought for.
My Desire to Work and Support My Parents
More than anything, I want to help my parents. They have stood by me through every dark day. Watching them age while I cannot contribute breaks me inside. I want to work hard, earn well, and finally give my parents the life they deserve.
Dependence weighs heavily on me. I wish to feel capable again and make my family proud. Though I can’t move freely, I can still do something valuable. Technology gives me that chance to write, work, and inspire.
All I want is to live with dignity and comfort my parents. My legs might fail, but my willpower never does. That fire inside me keeps me walking forward every day.
When I See Others Walk Freely
Each time I see others walk or run, my heart aches in silence. Their freedom reminds me of what once was mine. I want to run through the embrace of the wind and walk once more. But my legs can’t follow my heart anymore.
It is not jealousy, it is pure longing. I miss the little things people do without thought. Each step they take feels like something magical I cannot experience. But I let that pain remind me to keep going.
I tell myself, if I cannot walk physically, I will walk through my dreams. If I cannot run outside, I will run with my words. My body may be weak, but my spirit still refuses to stop.
Conclusion My Life My Pain My Strength
My life as a handicap person is a story of survival, faith, and broken dreams. The GBS virus may have taken my legs, but it did not take my will to live. Living inside four walls for over eleven years has tested my limits, but I am still here, still breathing, still hoping.
Pain has taught me that it doesn’t destroy you, it changes you. Even if I can’t walk alone, I keep going one step at a time. I still wish to help my parents, to love, and to see the beauty of the world. My disability isn’t an ending, it’s the beginning of something new.
Life may have changed, but I refuse to give up. I am not just surviving, I am fighting. Because even from within these four walls, my spirit still stands tall.
