Tag Archives: emotional support.

The Gift of a Doll

For me, living with a disability is all I have ever known. Therefore, I never thought of my life as particularly hard or challenging. The daily struggles I face today are the same, or similar, to the struggles that I have been facing for the last 31 years. Things that able bodied people might consider a struggle are as commonplace to me as brushing my teeth.

That being said, I do have days when I hate the hand I was dealt. Sometimes, I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. It’s usually something small, one too many falls, or a particularly long wrestling match with my shoe, which sets me off. Suddenly, I just want to scream, to punch something, to kick something or break something. My victim during these outbursts is usually my pillow, but a surprise gift from a friend could change that.

See that? Don’t worry, at first I couldn’t figure out what it was either. I thought briefly that the gift had been sent by mistake; or worse, that my friend had lost her mind. I mean, this thing is the kind of ugly that people write songs about. U-G-L-Y. What would I possibly want with it? I started to think it was a gift meant for my dog, (who, as you can see from the photo, also thought it should be for her) until I finally saw the tag stitched to one side.

This ugly little darling is a Dammit Doll. What is a Dammit Doll you ask? The tag declares: “Whenever things don’t go so well and you want to hit the wall and yell, here’s a little Dammit Doll that you can’t do without. Just grab it firmly by the leg and find a place to slam it. And as you whack the stuffing out yell dammit, dammit, dammit.”

Life is funny; I happened to receive this gift right after a fight with my husband. I don’t remember what the fight was about, but I do remember that I did not have to use the doll that day. The absurdity of the gift made me laugh so hard that I forgot about my bad mood.

I still have not slammed my Dammit Doll in to any walls. It’s silly, but a part of me feels bad for her. Most dolls are meant to be loved and cared for. This doll, on top of being ugly, was designed for abuse. It’s a little tragic in my opinion; then again my husband says I am just too sensitive. I don’t know if I will ever use my Dammit Dall the way she was intended; but her presence in my life is now a constant reminder that I am loved, and it is the people who love me that get me through the bad days. They pick me up when I fall, they wrangle unruly shoes and they encourage me to keep challenging myself. They are the real reason I live an Unlimited life. Objects make certain things easier, but their support makes things possible.

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