This section is from the book "The Psychology Of Dreams", by William S. Walsh. Also available from Amazon: The Psychology of Dreams.
While it is true that in many instances those who suffer from physical defects are not deserving of much sympathy, since their defects are due to neglect or ignorance of the laws of personal hygiene, in many other cases the individual is more sinned against than sinning. For no cause over which he has control, he may be born the victim of some disease or blemish which cannot be removed, or accident may render him a cripple or otherwise handicap him. In these latter cases few can realize how much the defectives suffer mentally, or how their sufferings are added to by the thoughtlessness, ignorance often, of those who apparently look upon them as curiosities whose hearts are so steeled that they do not mind the chance remarks they overhear, and whose eyes are so blind that they do not note the many curious glances their defect receives. It is no wonder if, as is often the case, the physically blemished retire as much as is possible from contact with the outside world, if they regard life as an unequal, partial game, if they are envious of their fellow normal mortals, if they give most of their time to unpleasant day-dreams, accomplish very little of practical value, and eke a wretched existence. We cannot excuse them for faultily adapting themselves to their environment, yet we most admit that their struggle is great, and that their normal fellows, through ignorance, add to their burden.
The faulty adaptations that a physical defective may make are many. If he has a defect apt to be noticeable he tends to shun the society of normal individuals, lest their glances cause pain. He thus robs himself of the education and enjoyment which contact with others gives; and because he notices every look and word, erroneously considering them as always directed toward himself, he becomes abnormally sensitive. His friends tend to be persons who have a similar defect, and in their company his impairment becomes more impressed upon him.
Because the contemplation of the happiness of others causes pain, an awareness of his own deficiencies, the physical defective often seeks a peculiar happiness in reading or thinking about the morbid. Tales of heroes and heroines, of accomplishment, seem not for him; they cause suffering. His tales are those he makes for him self, day-dreams, in which he pictures what might have been if he were not unfortunate, the unhappiness that will always be his. A solitary life is encouraged, where secretiveness holds sway, where envy of normals generates, where happiness is denied entrance, where discontent, mental suffering, and inefficiency gain the upper and controlling hand.
Whatever the nature of one's misfortune, there are two ways of looking at it. It can either be cured or it cannot be cured. If it can be cured then reason dictates that the individual bestir himself and carry out scrupulously such measures as tend to cure. If he will not put forth this effort, for one reason or another, then his alone is the blame, and for his lamentations, his bitterness, there is absolutely no need of sympathy. As we find other people who wish success, fame, wealth or whatnot to be theirs without necessitating any effort on their part, likewise do we find individuals with physical impairments who will not deny themselves, or undergo the pain or whatever is necessary for cure. Instead, they bewail their fate, and not only make them-selves more miserable but their acquaintances as well. The mountains did not come to Mohammed when he called, yet Mohammed was not above going to the mountains. Where health is concerned we must go after it; all things do not come to him who waits.
Sometimes a person who has a certain ill concludes that, since it is, in his opinion, incurable, further effort is useless. For example, some people when told that they have tuberculosis think their death knell has been sounded, and at once give themselves up to melancholy thoughts of the unfairness of the world, the happiness they have been denied, possibly thoughts of painful deaths. Yet there are few diseases, however serious they may appear to be, that cannot be benefited, even arrested, or cured, so that the individual may not only live the Biblical allotted time but, also, happily and usefully. The realization of this, of course, requires co-operation on the part of the individual. To take tuberculosis for example; in its first stage it can, with proper care, be cured: in the second stage it may be arrested, sometimes in the third. We have countless examples of persons apparently doomed to die early of this disease who con-quered it. Dr. Trudeau at 27 was told he had but a year to live, yet lived to 67: Cornaro, who was the host of tuberculosis and other infirmities in middle life lived long enough to write his book How To Live To Be A Hundred by One Who Did It The fact that we have this disease, or heart disease, kidney disease, or other diseases generally regarded as serious, is not to be taken as the signal for the cessation of interest in the world's work. It means that the individual afflicted must take more care of himself, adapt himself to the disease. If he does so the chances are that his days will be far more than his morbid thoughts grant. As far as self-prognosis is concerned, many of the opinions formed by sick people are fit for the waste basket; they are products only of morbid minds. A heart to heart talk with the physician is often all that is necessary to remove them. Like a person who has a disease that is distinctly curable if the individual is ready to co-operate, likewise those who have diseases that may be retarded in their progress, if not cured, deserve no true sympathy unless they urge themselves into doing everything possible toward checking the progress of the malady. Self-pity will not aid, but handicap.
If it so happens that the individual has a definitely incurable defect, as a deformity, then the only thing he can do is to bear it with fortitude. One thing sure, he cannot mend matters by bewailing his fate, by wishing for things that can never be. It is easy to preach but hard to practise, of course; but there is scarcely a physical defect that is incompatible with a person's usefulness. Much depends naturally upon the mental attitude of the individual; if he perpetually puts on blinders to keep out the sunshine, if he retires into his shell, and believes he has been cheated in the game of life, if he will not make an effort, then there is little chance of his being truly happy. He, like the rest of us, must take the world as he finds it, and make the best of it.
 
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