Life with HSP11: Part - 2
Part 1 : Early Life & Diagnosis
I was always a bit slower than the other kids—clumsy at sports, always tripping, and never quite able to keep up during playground games. At first, everyone, including my parents, thought I was just a little uncoordinated. It wasn’t until I was around 8 that the real questions began. My legs felt stiff, like they were fighting every step, and my muscles would tighten unpredictably, making me stumble. Life WIth HSP11 Part – 2 | My LIfe With HSP11

After a string of doctor visits, tests, and referrals, the neurologist finally gave it a name: Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia type 11—HSP11. It was a relief to have an explanation, but it was also scary to learn that it’s a progressive, genetic condition. I watched my parents exchange worried glances, and I saw my mother cry quietly in the car on the way home.
School was a challenge: climbing stairs, running, even sitting for long periods. I had to explain to friends why I couldn’t join in every game, and sometimes I felt like an outsider. But my parents, teachers, and a small group of friends supported me. I learned to advocate for myself, to ask for help when needed, and to find ways to keep moving, even if it wasn’t at the same pace as everyone else.
Part 2: Living with HSP11 as an Adult
Now in my late twenties, I’ve come to understand my condition more deeply. The stiffness and muscle spasms are constant companions, but I’ve found ways to manage them: physical therapy, medications, and adaptive devices. I use a cane on bad days, and I’m not ashamed of that anymore.
I’ve built a life around acceptance and adaptation rather than resistance. My career is mostly at a desk, which helps. I work from home sometimes, which means I can stretch or take breaks when my legs get too tight. Social life can be tricky—crowded places make me nervous about falling, but I’ve learned to plan ahead, choose accessible venues, and let people know what I need.
Emotionally, it’s a journey. Some days I feel strong and determined, while others bring frustration and grief. Watching others run, dance, or hike sometimes stings, but I remind myself that comparison robs me of joy. I focus on what I can do: yoga, swimming, writing, photography—things that feed my spirit without punishing my legs.
Through online support groups, I’ve met others with HSP11, and it’s been comforting to know I’m not alone. We share tips, encouragement, and the occasional rant about the frustrations of living with an unpredictable body.
Final Thoughts
In the end, HSP11 is part of me, but it’s not all of me. I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about pretending everything’s fine—it’s about finding new ways to live fully, even when things aren’t easy.
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