" For a few seconds, or maybe a minute, I hated being me and I hated being disabled and I hated needing what I needed."
This line, written a few days ago, expressed a keenly felt moment because of a situation out of my control. I've received little reaction in the comment section of my blog to what was written but have, since then, been receiving emails, at least twice a day. The emails break down into two categories: some are worried about me; others are worried by disappointed in me - feeling my 'disability pride' stance is a sham. Both types of emails come from people who I don't actually know and who, even at a distance, care for me.
This morning, I thought it was time to address that sentiment.
I don't think having moments of self loathing (which I stated earlier in the same article) or having moments where a certain aspect of one's body, one's ability, one's personality is hated says anything about a person except that they are human.
It was a moment.
I've had moments like that before and I will again.
Just like someone who might live happy and well as an extremely tall person can have moments when they just hate the constant jokes or inconveniences. It's a moment. It happens.
And it happens over everything ... I hate it when I get so loud at a party; I hate it when I can't work up the courage to talk to someone at a party; I hate it when I get nervous and fumble my words; I hate it when I speak too quickly.
I don't think that non-disabled people get to have moments of like that and we don't. I don't think it's fair that their statements mean what the mean and ours are laden with extra meaning as those who hear slather prejudice on our words like thick marmalade on toast.
I said it.
I meant it.
It's over now.
Still disabled, still proud, still going strong.
|Moments are just moment.
Really.
I'm OK.
8 comments:
of course
You write about some of your experiences in life, as you experience your own life. Readers read and respond, and all the usual misperceptions and distortions of being human appear in the process of communication. It's all about being human and living life - nothing more and nothing less.
Dave you are a true inspiration! I often think in everyday life what would Dave do? Your blog is my little oasis everyday, a chance for me to relate to another person going through the good fight as well. Keep smiling and doing what you do. Thank you for taking the time everyday to put your thoughts down on paper.
I just did a mental health PSA radio spot about acceptance. Big topic for 120 seconds, but I tried to encapsulate it. I think acceptance is a struggle anyone who draws breath has every once in a while.
You know - when you get those moments that you want something to be different than it is. Problems arise when you start dealing with the world as you wish it 'should' be as opposed to starting from where it actually is. Vision and intent are all well and good - but reality is always the place to start when working toward something.
And some days I loathe the word acceptance - especially when I pile my 'extras' on top of it. I mean acceptance doesn't imply that a thing is OK the way it is, not does it even mean something is tolerable - it's just an honest assessment and an acknowledgement of that assessment.
I lose that every once in a while. We all do. I think that's part of our beautiful fallibility as a species . . . sometimes ya just gotta accept the fact we're not always accepting. :)
I didn't comment on that post, because I didn't think it was anything but a normal experience and response. It sure is funny how some people can read something that isn't there into an honest statement, indeed.
Feelings aren't a democracy. Nobody else gets a vote. :)
If you claimed to never have those moments, we wouldn't believe you! Still, it's reassuring to me to remember that I don't have to keep the happy face all the time to maintain my disability pride.
Dear Dave,
I did comment on this sentence in the original post and I am. And I think it was an honest comment.
Thoughts like those occur to everyone. But in the certain situation you showed us your vulnarability. And that, to great minds and organizers like you, is something special.
Thank you
Julia
Thank you, Dave, for your honesty always. Even when it's difficult; even when it's not what everyone would expect to hear; even when the thoughts you share reveal deep and personal feelings... thank you... You often articulate feelings I have but haven't yet named. I am thankful that you are okay & grateful that through your sharing and honesty you often help me & many others to be okay too.
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