Perk has asked a very valid and straight forward question.  "Denise, How
could you have denied a physical disability?"  I honestly wish there was a
simple, black & white, straight forward answer.  Unfortunately, human
behavior is a complex puzzle in multi-shaded grays.  Even the most ardent
slueth has difficultly fitting all of the pieces together.  However, I will
do my level best to answer her question until we can all see a logical shape
and form.

Most people like life neat and tidy, but you can't always toss on a lable and
group people together.  Here on this list, we have people with a disability,
labled cerebral palsy.  You can also have a bunch of candy on a table marked
"Chocolate."  Of course some might be dark, semi-sweet, have nuts, powdered
as coco, or in it's raw natural state.  A rich piece of semi-sweet tastes
nothing like the bitter pre-processed chocolate.

The same holds true here.  (And I am in NO WAY implying some of us are sweet,
bitter, or nuts  :D ).  I only use candy as an analogy.  In a way, those with
cerebral palsy are like the cholocate.  We may all have the same basic
disability, but we each have very different levels of physical ability.

If you have always needed a wheel chair or crutches, or your cp is severe, it
may be difficult to relate to the way I was able to deny being disabled.
There are those on the list who say they were merely "brushed by cp."  These
are the people who may easily identify with my denial.

The doctors have always said I had an "Extremely Mild" case.  Additionally,
I've had lots of help processing the small amount of raw disability.   Eight
operations, 14 or so years of night and day braces, 16 years of physical
therapy.  All of this helped me to deny my disability.  What at first appears
a stark, illogical contridiction, makes more sense upon closer inspection.

Being merely "mildly disabled" - I lived in a sort of pergatory.  (Again, I
make the following comparasion only for the purpose of illustration.  No
malice or judgemental inference should be taken from the following analogy.)
 - I didn't live with the sheer hell of being completely disabled, yet the
heavenly life of being "able-bodied or normal" was always just beyond my
grasp.

I spent a very short time with other disabled kids.  Only in pre-school.  The
remainder of my education was in "regular" school.  Not in a mainstream
program, since that didn't exist.  Now, most children want to belong.  They
need a sense of being liked and part of the gang.  I didn't want to be
"different."  I didn't want to be the only "cripple kid" in regular school,
but I was.  In order to survive, emotionally, I distanced myself from my
disability.  Mentally, I NEVER considered myself disabled.  No matter how
many times the kids called me names, tripped or spat at me - their comments
and cruelty slid right off.  I kept myself warm and safe in the knowledge, "I
wasn't one of 'Them', a cripple."

It's amazing how the human psyche can rationalize and justify any situation.
I think of it as a survival skill.  Personally, I was not able to accept my
disablity because I was always given the message, verbally and through
action, "Being different is bad.  Being disabled is worse."

Perhaps if I'd had some support at home, I would not have buried myself so
deep in denial.  My mother was, I've come to believe not unwilling, but
unable to cope with life.  I share the following from my own life not to
illicit sympathy, but to further your understanding of my personal situation.
 My father abandoned us when I was very young.  My mother wasn't yet 27, had
3 small children, and one (me) was disabled.  She had no job skills, but got
a grant and went to college while working 3 menial jobs.  We lived below the
poverty level, often without heat in winter, and many times without a decent
meal.  In fact, mom had even resorted to checking the dumpsters behind the
grocery store because they often threw away food which was still good.
She also was very violent and beat me on a regular basis.  With all of this
in mind, I'd like to quote a few paragraphs from an autobigography I've been
working on.  Again, none of this is being told for any reason, other than to
answer Perk's question.

Excerpt from, "Be A Little Solider."  The beatings didn't leave many
permanent physical scars, but my mother crossed a line which finally pushed
me to the breaking point.  She uttered words which disfigured my identity.
There would be no justification or rationalization for this heinous betrayal.
 My mother broke the code of silence between a disabled child and parent.  In
the midst of a routine assault over something ridiculous, my mother became a
shrieking maniac.  Her face twisted around eyes glazed over with
unadulterated disgust and loathing.  I felt the spittle hit my face.  It
emphasized each word as it echoed throughout our empty house, "You make me
SICK!  It makes my stomach turn to watch you walk."

All the physical assaults, emotional traumas, and pain I'd battled during my
young life didn't prepare me for those traitorous words.  I was left in
ruins.  A state of total
devastation.  I'd been living in denial, but I could no longer hide from my
greatest fear.  I was one of "THEM."  A monstrous mutation, imperfect,
disabled.  Was it any wonder the other children hated me?  How could I expect
love or friendship if my flesh and blood mother was physically sickened by
the sight of me?

I truly believed I'd been functioning without feeling, but I was wrong.  Once
teetering on the edge of nothingness, these words pushed me into a frigid
abyss.  Ironically, I did experience powerful emotions seconds before a
protective glacial barricade crystallized inside me cutting off any and all
emotion.  The last feelings to touch me were inspired by the words my mother
screamed in my face.  I felt repulsive, ashamed, grotesque, sub-human, and
then ... blissful nonexistence.  Denise had disappeared." <end of excerpt>
This might not completely or satisfactorily answer your question Perk.  My
hope is that by giving you a glimpse into why I distanced myself from the raw
reality that I was disabled, you can see that it is not only plausible, but
logical to believe someone can look in the mirror yet never see their true
reflection.  Take Care and Be Well:  Denise