No fancy OP this time because I am running on E! I’m definitely not a couple of days late! This week’s person of interest is you, dear reader. Tell this fat frog lady all about your lovely selves this week. Tell me what makes you laugh and what brings you joy in this hell on earth we call home.
As always, we ask that in order to participate in the weekly megathread, one self-identifies as some form of disabled, which is broadly defined in the community sidebar:
“Disability” is an umbrella term which encompasses physical disabilities, emotional/psychiatric disabilities, neurodivergence, intellectual/developmental disabilities, sensory disabilities, invisible disabilities, and more. You do not have to have an official diagnosis to consider yourself disabled.
Mask up, love one another, and stay alive for one more week.
cw: suicidal ideation, genocide
I completely get that. I wouldn’t say I’m completely in the “want to live” camp, but I am fortunate enough to have one or two good things in my life I’m still clinging to. Although there are times (sometimes very long stretches of time) when I really question why I’m still going. The best I can usually come up with is “I will upset the couple of people still close to me if I dip out early” or “maybe I can stick around long enough in case something drastically changes”. The latter is especially hard to cling to when even organising spaces struggle so much to take disabled people’s perspectives and needs seriously.
Keeping in mind though, that these feelings are the desired outcome of the british system, it does sometimes give me fuel to keep going sometimes out of pure spite, but the longer I’m around the more it just feels like all the suffering is slowly driving me mad.
This sentence should tell people everything they need to know about how disabled people are treated in society. Alas, the brits don’t know the meaning of solidarity or even empathy tbh
Thank you comrade; ain’t that so…