It’s fun to scare the ableds with casual remarks about your body. Like:
oh I can’t see out of my right eye right now, could you read this to me?
I kinda miss rowing. Well I’ll never be able to do it again but it was fun while it lasted.
So what I learned on a liquid diet for a few years… why are you looking at me like that?
- you notice your eyes go kinda blurry, but its prob just you being tired
- you feel…off… but you cant really see any reason why?? Like your brain is in slow motion
- suddenly, your hand twitches, like when you get a shiver up your spine. Its like someone’s forcing you to flex random muscles
- your eyes close, and you feel your arm twist around and freak out. It knocks over things but if you were to try to stop it, itd only pull your muscles against you harder
- “oh my god is she okay?” You can hear most of everything around you, but you cant respond.
- “should we call 911?” Please dont.
- “wheres her phone? Can you find her moms number?” Its locked. You wouldn’t be able to. Besides, theres nothing that could be done even if she were here.
- “should we move her??” Dont. Please god dont.
- “its more than a couple minutes! I read that seizures that last that long are dangerous!” Eplieptic ones are. Mine aren’t. My average is 15 minutes.
- after a while, you slowly go out of it. Your body stops fighting you. Your mind gets more grounded. You have no idea how long its been.
- “im sorry, is there anything we can do?” No. “Can we walk you back” I’m fine. “Have you seen a doctor” Kinda. “That was so scary” Yea.
- Yea, it was.
The Rising is my zombie apocalypse survival story in which most of the characters are physically or mentally ill or disabled, and POC and LGBTQA rep are everywhere.
I was inspired to write this story because there are never disabled people who survive or who aren’t just a liability in these kinds of stories (and also I was pissed about the queerbaiting in The Walking Dead).
Kryssah Callum is a bisexual 911 dispatcher with OCD who smashes zombie skulls with a hammer.
The man flew at Hollis; she fired a shot that sunk into his abdomen, but he didn’t so much as flinch. He barreled into her, moaning, spittle flying, his face already coated in blood, and knocked her to the ground, her gun pinned between them. Hollis screamed.
Kryssah leapt for the toolbox and grabbed a sturdy hammer, then raised it high over her head—please don’t let me miss and hit Hollis or myself by mistake-no don’t do it you’ll miss and smash your own kneecap—no do it he’ll kill her—and swung with all of her strength.
The steel hammer smashed into the back of the man’s skull, and the impact that traveled up the handle hurt Kryssah’s fingers. Was it over? Was he dead?
He moaned, and she screamed and swung a second time. This time, the hammer sunk into his skull, through the cracks she’d made with the first hit, and that was worse. The hammer came away bloody, with bits of hair and gristle stuck to it. She fought the urge to vomit as he went limp on top of the officer.
“Hollis!” she shouted, dropping the hammer, bending to shove the man off of her.
“I’m good,” she said, wincing and putting a hand to her ribcage, where her dark uniform was wet and shiny, reflecting the golden light from the bathroom.
“It’s not mine. I don’t think.” She grunted and pushed herself to a sitting position, then examined the back of her left forearm, where marks could be seen in two opposing crescent shapes, blood pulsing from each cut. “This might be, though. Get this: the dude actually bit me while I was holding him off. What the actual fuck.”
(If you like this, please reblog! I’m trying to build my online following! And I’d love to hear your thoughts and reactions!)
For the chronically ill/disabled community, has anyone found an affordable assistant device to help with trail hiking?
I appreciate any help. Struggling to find anything under a thousand dollars online.
What’s really interesting about people’s objection to the disability benefit system is that it can be fixed if people hired disabled people.
“They should just get a job!! They’re wasting my hard earned tax money!” So hire me.
“My company isnt wheelchair accessible!” So make it accessible and hire me.
“My company isnt prepared to make the workplace accessible!” Yes it is. You’ve already said you want disabled people to be able to work. Make it easier for me to work and hire me.
“I need people who can stand up and work for hours on end!!” No you don’t. Change the policies, and hire me.
“That costs too much money! I don’t have that kind of money to throw around!” Yes you do. You’ve already stated your money is going to the benefit system. And if you don’t have the money, stop complaining about disabled people on benefits unable to work. Hire me if you’re that concerned about it. Clearly you have the money to pay employers.
If your objections are just about people unable to work, you don’t actually care about your money going to the benefit system. You just want a way to talk down to disabled people. If you’re refusing to make the changes to make places accessible for disabled people, don’t pretend that you actually care about disabled people being unable to work. You just want a fancy way to say you think disabled people should just not have any money and die.
I miss talking my dog for walks
I miss going to school
I miss leaving the house
I miss enjoying life
god i wish i could do things
please enjoy the things you can do, cuz not everyone can do them.
I keep seeing people constantly shaming obese people and/or refusing them help (whether that be medical treatment, accommodations or both) because their obesity is “their fault”.
Because here’s the thing. I have a condition in my back (it doesn’t have a name as far as I’m aware) wherein my muscles are constantly in spasm and therefore causes chronic pain in my shoulder blades and neck. I got this from years of having bad posture and carrying too many heavy things. Having to lug my saxophone around, I think, is the main cause of my condition. And as a result, not only am I in constant pain, but I can’t shrug or move my shoulders, carry backpacks, give piggybacks, get massages, lean on my back or shoulder, have people touch my shoulder/s, do situps, sleep on my back or side or look over my shoulder all without intense pain.
This is my fault. By definition. I caused it with my constant decisions to not sit up straight and to carry everything around with me.
But when I tell anyone about my condition, I get nothing but sympathy and am never expected to do anything that causes me pain.
When I try to say that my condition is my fault, it’s always immediately denied and brushed off, even though I’m not upset about it, I’ve accepted it as a fact. Sure, I wish I could change it, but it’s not the worst decision I’ve ever made. (given the chance to change any decision in my past, my pain might make the top 5 but will always fall short of dating my ex).
Obesity is a big problem amongst disabled people - whether it’s obesity on its own, caused by another condition, some people have conditions that happen as a result of obesity, and yet as soon as society sees an obese person looking for accommodations or health concerns, they’re given nothing. Because it’s “their fault”. Even if it is (which it usually isn’t) does it being their fault make it any less real? And doesn’t denying them help seem a little fucked up to anyone? If I cut my finger off, am I denied the chance to get it reattached just because I was the one who cut it off? No one’s blaming me for my condition that I literally caused myself, and why the hell not? Because I’m skinny.
It just feels like whenever society sees an obese person, they don’t see a disabled person needing accommodations, they just see a fat person who’s an easy target to blame. And I’m fucking sick of it.
Guys I have to tell my story. And if you’re in grad school, please read.
I am getting my PhD in literature and am writing a thesis. My thesis is on disability and black women. I wanted to explore how disability is coded through language and how that specifically works with black womanness.
Anyway, a scholar agrees to chair my thesis. Honestly, they seemed uninterested in the project. But being a young scholar, I felt honored to work with a “titan” in the field. But things started going wrong. The chair hated every idea I had. It started out small, things like “support your argument” but grew into full on challenging my observations. To give an example, I was writing about dementia, neuro divergence and black women. They advised me to get rid of that because it wasn’t neurodivergence OR disability. It was just a “natural product of aging.” But again, I was supposed to trust this scholar. Eventually the language got more vitrolic. They refered to disability as “deformities.” I’ve never once used that word. But after 2 rejected drafts, I was so so desperate to get it right.
I have ADHD and Bipolar disorder. To concentrate to my fullest ability I need to stim. I can carry on without stimming but after so much rejection, I just needed to focus 100%. To stim I just draw squares over and over again. In neat little rows. The chair was vocally disaproved. They told me to “stop doing whatever and focus.” Now if you know anything about stimmimg, when someone says something like that, any ounce of focus is just thrown out the window. I could barely talk because of that. ADHD shut down is real.
But again, I persist. Even after my chair sent me an email saying they “have met undergrads with more passion.” So I sent a third draft. And again, she tears it apart. They accused me of conflating “disabled” with “minority identity.” They boasted about how they knew the aurthor personally and that they would be appaled that disability could be related to prejudice. And a quick note; I DID conflate the disabled identity with minority identites. DISABILITY IS A MINORITY IDENTITY AND I AM WRITING ABOUT HOW THAT INTERSECT WITH BLACK WOMANHOOD.
Here is an excerpt from the many emails.
Ok. so after a couple of visits to the crisis center and a suicide watch, I learned a few things.
Overall, I think that this advisor meant well. I honestly believe that what they were trying to do was impliment “tough love.” But since that tough love came from a place of ablist assumptions, it was not love at all. It was just aggresive antagonization.
The end of this story is that I will be leaving this university. Next year, I will work as a full time instructor and chair a Teachers of Color Caucus. I’m also working on a creative project. I will get my PhD from someplace new and I am quite happy about it. Its ok if you dont believe this story, even I don’t believe it. But I had to write this and tell my side of the story. At least once.
I am happy to share the rejected drafts so that you may judge whether or not my chair is right. But trust me, this has become about much more than writing and content. It’s become an attack on my neurodivegence, disability, and disabled black women
we’ve been trying to crowdfund because our car payment is hella past due and now the internet has been turned off because it’s past due. any help would be amazing. thank you. $surviveandthrive on square cash and venmo. Tehribbit at gmail on PayPal. my partner and i are both trans and she lost her job in april and hasn’t been hired anywhere she’s applied and interviewed. i’m disabled and can’t work. things have been rough.
Gotta love trying to limp with both legs and just taking long jolty strides
I remember I saw Nessa for the first time in a short clip my sister showed me of the musical when I was younger, and I was delighted to see a character with the same physical ailment as myself (even though I know her arms not her legs are affected in the book), but now that I’ve seen the whole musical, she’s more Wicked than Elphaba ever was. Although when she assumed that Boq asked her to the dance out of pity and she got frustrated with Elphaba because she’s depended on someone her whole life, I FELT THAT
There’s something about “pain is inevitable that bothers me.” Like yes, I agree with the statement, but there’s a huge difference between someone who stubs their toe and it’s the first pain they’ve felt this month, and someone with severe and debilitating chronic pain. I’ve seen people espousing to come to terms with the latter because even if I were healthy, I would still experience pain. But I would take occasional pain in a heartbeat over my current baseline
y'all ever invalidate yourself by the default because of the hate that’s spread towards you bc damn that’s me on daily basis
Article About Disabilities
A Disability is any condition that makes it more difficult for a person to do certain activities or interact with the world around them, these conditions or impairments, may be cognitive development, intellectual, mental, physical, sensory, or a combination of multiple factors, impairments causing disability maybe present from birth or occur during a persons lifetime.
Disability has a different meanings in different communities. Most Disability can be cure by medicine. Not everyone that has a Disability doesn’t have access to many things in their life. Some has access to special parking , rams at buildings, and even service dogs etc.
Sad to say does with Disability have not been treated equally and not been treated fairly . It’s sad to see many struggle with their Disabilities each and everyday , If you see someone who is struggling and needs help, please don’t estimate to show kindness and help them, they truly will feel thankful and appreciated for it.
Those with intellectual mental disability can not help been who they are, they were born with a disability that they never ask to be born in. Please be patient and help them in any way you can. Many Military men and women comes back with loosing a arm or a leg do to the war they fight in for our freedom, lets show them how appreciate we are for their service and help them in whatever we’re can as well.
Disabilities is a condition that we all must not take lightly, you never know what someone is going through in their life until you get to know them and talk to them. If you know someone who has a disabilities what is intellectual disabilities or got hurt in a war or even playing a sport or even born with a condition, then you know what that person is going through and facing in their life, its not a easy road to be on for them but you can bet believe that they out of making it or Bailey making it in life. Lets not treat them like their no body but lets treat them like their humans, they are someone’s father, mother, sons, daughters etc.
Last but not least if you your self have a Disability don’t like that Disability stop you on doing what you love to do, your disabilities do not defined who you are, yes it will stop you on doing somethings but never let it stop you on doing the things you love for your hobbies and activities that you enjoy doing in your life.
I interrupt this break to inform y'all that it’s confirmed I’m getting a cane for Christmas!
I’ve got all the specs down, but if anyone has usage suggestions I am always looking for advice! I will use my cane for: dizziness, joint pain, and leg weakness and unsteadiness.
Post-DVT, Post-PICC Dysautonomia specialist follow up. Why yes I do have a cat how could you tell
Get the Balance Right! (2019)
Being chronically ill/disabled is a constant balancing act.