I'm going to be harshly honest, I was taken aback by the tone of the question, in yesterday's comments, regarding my disability. Perhaps because I'm tired of everyone associating everything to my weight. People assume I hate myself. That I ate myself into a wheelchair. That my weight is willful and my disability optional. I'm sorry but this all just pisses me off.
First, if my disability was related to my weight, why would that matter? Disability is disability. If you are in a wheelchair because you are a jock and you jumped into a creek and hit your head on a rock - no one says 'you only have yourself to blame'. Disability isn't YOUR club, it's OUR club, so stop watching the door. But ask yourself, why do you need to know, and what difference would the answer have made? If it would make a difference ... then there is prejudice and bigotry in the room.
Second, not that it matters at all, but my disability in fact has nothing to do with my weight, my diabetes or any complications thereof. I have chosen NOT to discuss the nature of my disability with anyone other than my doctors and Joe. It's none of anyone's business. If that leaves you scratching your head because I write a public and personal blog about disability, so be it. I don't feel that I owe you every part of my life, every part of my experience, every bit of information. I keep what's mine, mine.
I have always believed and fought for the right to privacy for people with disabilities. I was one of the first people to publish on this in journals, I was one of the first people to lecture on the necessity of privacy, I was one of the originators of the concepts of 'privacy as a right' for people with disabilities. I believe that we all have corners of our lives that we don't want people prying into. I believe that we all have things that we share with none. This doesn't make us secretive nor sly ... it just makes us human.
I know that curiosity is also part of what makes us human. As my friend Ruth used to say, "I might be naturally curious as to the size of your husband's dick, but goodness me I'd never ask."
Perhaps one day I'll write about the circumstances that led up to my life in a wheelchair, perhaps not. This is under my control and only my control. What's mine is mine, what's your is yours ... and what we agree is ours should be joyously shared. So, as it's my blog and my fingers doing the typing I'm the one setting the parameters here.
Yes, I'm fat.
Yes, I'm disabled.
That they are both true, doesn't make them one truth.