Am I Admitting Defeat?

Disabled...
I'm not sure if I'm angry at the word or what images it invokes for me. I have spent 2 months fighting this word. And then yesterday, the thread that I was hanging by the keep me from admitting my defeat, admitting that I am disabled, broke and I cried. Tears rolling down my face as I told my wonderful husband that I can no longer do it all, I am no longer Super Woman, and my kryptonite is RSD.
I always thought that if I got everything right I would be able to return to normal, to the person I was before this diagnosis. I was injured in August 2008, and I clung to the hope that I would get fixed and get better. I now know that I will not, and it's painful to say that, because RSD will not allow me to get better. I'm always going to have balance my activities so as to not cause a flare up, nurse myself, be gentle with myself. It frustrates me, and insults me at the same time.
As I journey through this new half of my life, I need to tell you the small changes that come. First it's noticing that you can't wear just any shoe, because you're foot swells as you walk on it, and if there isn't any room in the shoe then it rubs causing blisters and ulcers on the foot. The next thing I noted is that I couldn't just wear anything, jeans felt so heavy on me. It's not an every day thing, on good days I can still wear jeans, but on bad days it's just too painful. So I adjusted, buying sweat pants, lounge pants and other light cotton pants that wouldn't rub and cause pain. Then it's not being to walk for a long time, frequent breaks are required, my cane is needed, and finally I admitted I need a wheelchair to really be able to get out and do things.
Most of the time I'm house bound, I can't drive more then 15 minutes without pain. Luckily I drive an automatic, because I wouldn't be able to work a clutch. My left foot is constantly in pain, it can vary from a numbing burning pain to a sharp stabbing pain. The RSD has spread from my toes and knees up to my hip. I can barely lay on my left side on a good day, and forget about a bad day. On a good day I can be seen walking to and from my son's school with out my cane as I pick him up from Kindergarten. I can not walk the less then ½ a mile from our house to school though, because that would cause a serious flare up and turn a good day into a bad day.
Here I am again waffling into acceptance.... I'm disabled, but I don't want to be disabled. Who wants to be right. My wonderful group of sisters I have found through facebook tell me I am “re-abled” or “differently abled”, but I still found myself labeling myself as disabled, because I can't do what I use to do, and I can't be who I use to be. I am feeling like saying I am disabled is admitting defeat.
Some days I feel defeated.....