What being a disabled millennial like

I guess it’s been exactly a year since I started blogging. I started writing with the intention of gaining some perspective in my life and it totally worked. I’m right and everyone is terrible.

At the start of the year I had my trusty neuromuscular disease which makes it impossible for me to physically care for myself, my mother’s Alzheimer’s had gotten to the point where she could no longer physically or mentally care for herself, auntie had been in my life for a few years helping me try to get her medical help and deal with the endless paperwork x2 that comes with disability. She was the only family member that even pretended to make an effort in my life, but the stress of it was obviously getting to her.

And I was losing my god damn mind so I started this blog.

The major thing I realized is something I already thought I knew; being disabled is like being in a completely different reality that normal people only have some vague sense of, like gravity but really can’t comprehend. What I specifically learned throughout this year, though, is that they willfully remain ignorant because of their narcissism.

That sounds incredibly rude but in some cases I mean it in the nicest way. Some able-bodied people simply never learned that TV isn’t real. When they hear anything about the reality of living a disabled life and how it has nothing to do with your health but everything to do with violent bigotry they try to convince you that any bad situation is an outlier. ABs refuse to acknowledge disability to avoid feeling guilty; those people legitimately don’t know how common and easy it is to step over a dying body while complaining about the smell.

There are some people who genuinely don’t know better and so they are eager to help, impatient for the praise. It’ll get them praise, but they can’t handle it for long.
For my Mormon uncle it was the very minute that I called him to let him know that his sister was sick that he became overwhelmed and he insisted we both be sent to homes. He had no idea why I was so opposed to the suggestion because it wasn’t as if anyone would want to rape me or anything.

I know I heard that clearly because he was screaming it through the telephone.

Auntie pressured me into putting mom into a home and then to make sure I can make no decisions she told them I was mentally ill and all around general liar so I wasn’t allowed to have contact with my mother. After mom got kicked out after week for unruly behavior I found out from the carefully worded discharge papers that she had been raped in the shower. Whether Auntie knew that are not I don’t know but it was the last time I ever saw her.

Up until then, though, Auntie worked incredibly hard to help us but the weight of sainthood became too much. There were multiple times where she would throw my medical cards at me from the end of my bed while yelling at me for not knowing how to love correctly. To her credit, she wasn’t completely wrong.

She said I was being condescending when I constantly apologized for being a burden and then I halted every conversation with the incessant need to thank everyone for just being there. True. It took me being forced into a role-play game before I really understood that.

I like helping people out. I like seeing people relieved and happy when I can unexpectedly provide a solution. I like feeling that I can have at least a slight impact on other people that isn’t horrible.

What I don’t like is people making it weird by being awkward, thanking and apologizing to me every few seconds. When they insist on thanking me it hurts my feelings because it seems like they’re surprised I would do something nice. When people won’t stop thanking me it’s alienating. When someone puts you on a pedestal is not only objectifying but lonely because you’re no longer equal.

What I still don’t understand is what the hell I’m supposed to do.

When I go somewhere I have to get their permission to go. When I do something I have to get their permission to do it. When I eat I have to have proven that I’m worth the waste and produce.

How can I not thank them?

How can I take the risk of not thanking them?

It used to infuriate me and people told me I had no idea what the “real world” was like when the only world they know is Pollyanna’s but now I can’t help but agree. In the real world you don’t have to pretend not to know your friends in public.  In the real world you go to the police for help instead of avoiding them. In the real world you don’t apologize to other people when they hit you. In the real world strangers don’t tell you that your God’s punishment on humanity. In the real world you check the mailbox for bills, paperwork to fill out for permission to live for another month.

In the real world a real person wouldn’t have their healthcare taken away for having an extra $100 in the bank, a real person would be allowed to have more than $2,000. Especially if everything was as expensive in the real world as it is here.

Even after a year finally coming to terms with never getting the promotion to human I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

Although I have to fight for it every day I’m still living in my home, unlike my ancestors. Even if I’m not allowed to own it.

Also unlike my ancestors I’m trapped inside my bedroom but I have the technology to talk to people all over the world. Not people from the real world but people like myself who are going through the same things that I am. I never know how long I have them but thanks to the sheer number of us I’m never alone. More and more of them grow exhausted and are forced to commit suicide but it’s a less lonely than it would’ve been even just over a decade ago.

We have the ability to communicate and create things as long as it’s not in exchange for currency and because of that and realizing that there are people in the real world who do care about what’s going on in the outskirts of The Real World™; AB and NT people my age, millennial’s who have helped me survive with much more dignity than any other American generation has before them.

I’ve proofread homework in exchange for dinner. I’ve written essays on Deadpool in exchange for toilet paper. I’ve reviewed movies for hair dye.

I have no hope for society itself but I have hope for humanity now that I know that there are people unlike my family but things haven’t changed enough for me to even have a conclusion to this post. Still, I have the ability to make this post and as pathetic as it is I’m thankful for that.

Every single romance novel with a disabled protagonist

1. Able-bodied man gets disabled doing sports or during military service, he is paralyzed from the waist down. Able-bodied woman loves him because he’s nice unlike like other guys. He is bitter,  she is inspires him. Able-bodied woman knows more about the disabled man’s disability than he does.

2.  An able-bodied woman working in healthcare, usually physical therapy, falls in love with a disabled man who has been paralyzed from the waist down due to sports or military. He is bitter,  she is inspires him.

3. Single able-bodied mom falls in love with a man paralyzed from the waist down because of sports or the military because he is a nice guy who let’s children ride the wheelchair in his lap.

4. Able-bodied woman reconnects with a man, previously knowing him as able-bodied, but she is paralyzed from the waist down due to sports or military.

5. Able-bodied woman falls in love with a man paralyzed from the waist down due to sports or military despite his disability but then he gets better.

Bonus tropes: the disabled hero is left by his fiancée when he becomes disabled and doesn’t want to fall in love again, the able-bodied heroine is recovering from an abusive relationship

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Old disabled people are irrelevant

The social model of disability was created in 1975 by UPIAS (Union of the Physically Impaired Against Segregation) but was coined as “the social model” in 1983 Mike Oliver, a disabled academic.

Disabled people didn’t have a civil rights movement until the 80s and much like the feminist movement it was both allies and the most privileged among the disabled who got to speak. At all.

bIt wasn’t until the 70s when all states within the USA finally did away with “Ugly Laws” which were their actual names. It made it illegal for disabled people to go in public. This was due how many able-bodied people who had become disabled by contracting polio and soldiers coming back from war. It was never about minorities.

The ADA, Americans with Disabilities Act, was created in the 90s. Credit for this is a little varied and a little controversial. A large reason why the ADA was created was because of the AIDS epidemic. The queer community couldn’t find help from the government to get funding to find a cure or to treat patients. The only way to get what is essentially disability rights was to reassociate themselves with the disabled community after sexual and gender minorities were taken off the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.)

Not to suggest that we, the disabled community, renounce the DSM but there is a large dissent growing.  because of what it’s become and how it’s being used.

The key to this was the social model of disability. The government didn’t see GSM (gender and sexual minorities) as disabled people but the case was made that they had become disabled from society because of the disease they contracted which even though patients remained able-bodied was still a terminal disease with no cure in sight. At least at the public know of.

The LGBT™ community now rejects the identity of disabled, although many people in the community never used the word to refer to themselves in the first place. They now celebrate the fact that things like homosexuality are not seen as a disability; that achievement was made through the social model of disability and would not have happened without activism from the disabled.

You might be thinking of intersection at this point. The modern LGBT™ community is largely criticized by DM (disabled millennials) communities because of this and the fact that things like Pride parades want made to be accessible to physically and neurologically disabled people. In the last few years things have gotten better accessibility wise in some states, in certain areas.

There is animosity amongst some DMs toward the LGBT™,  primarily the disabled sexual and gender disabled minorities both for issues like these previously stated and the 2016 Sagamihara genocide in which many disabled people were euthanized inside their segregated neighborhood (something like a group home) by Satoshi Uematsu who had written a manifesto calling for the extermination of disabled people globally. This happened about the same time as the Pulse shooting which was widely reported on and the LGBT™ community in particular refused to ally for their disabled members at that time. Even when the names of all the Pulse victims were released whereas in Japan none of the victims  names were because it would’ve been embarrassing to their families if people found out they were related to someone disabled in the first place.

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The public was forbidden to pay their respects or leave flowers or candles at the site.

Tracking back a little, on through the 80s there were also many disabled protests and activism that didn’t get reported on unless it was a “die in” or the Capitol Crawl. A die in is when disabled protesters sit in public spaces, fasting, and peacefully refusing to leave. These resulted in good for TV moments like public assault by the police.

Much like what happened earlier this year when the radical disability activist group ADAPT (with the slogan “adapt or die”) were violently assaulted and arrested and then detained in inhumane ways and places. The first two were largely covered in independent media but information and proof of the latter came from twitter. Because  the cops didn’t think to take away their cell phones when they were arrested or detained. Although, they pulled people out of wheelchairs so I’m sure many people’s cell phones got busted so someone must have had an old Nokia on them.

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Yes, those are zip ties the police arrested them with.

The Capitol Crawl was done by early members of ADAPT and it was a major event which is given a lot more credit than it actually intentionally achieved. The Capitol Crawl was a protest in which disabled people got out of their wheelchairs and left assistive equipment behind like crutches or walkers and slowly climbed up the White House steps while staff walked past. A now iconic photo was taken of Jennifer Keelan who, at the time, was a young disabled girl who was very white and cute and insisted on making it to the top to complete the protest so the public actually paid attention.

Disability Rights Protest

After that it was a lot of boring political legislation and drama between marginalized activist groups.

The ADA was created in 1990 which was based on the social model of disability. The medical model (which excludes people like AIDS patients) is still heavily embedded in many laws which is why things like segregation haven’t been made illegal. Forced sterilization was delegalized across the United States in as recent as 2010 under laws created for the disabled but had been extended to POC (remind you of anything?) The last victim was in California; reparations are being legislated for victims in North Carolina and Virginia.

In the past, disabled people were usually killed at birth, given a mercy killing if they  were NTAB and became disabled, or simply didn’t live long partly because of the lack of medical advancements but in greater part because they were marginalized and disabled from society.

Millennials are the first generation of disabled people that were allowed to reach adulthood because of things like the ADA. We are also the first generation in the world to have the Internet our entire lives and due to things like segregation and lack of accessibility we built our communities online through social media. Just like other millennial groups. We are the children they fought for and we owe them our lives and our health.

Obviously many of them are still alive as this is relatively recent history and they are like the parents of the disabled community.

shutterstock_202195894-600x600They are completely out of touch and have animosity for DM (disabled millennials) because many of us have different philosophies. One is we don’t want to write letters to Congress to beg for rights, we want to destroy society like other millennial’s in marginalized groups. Essentially we want to make a better world and not put Band-Aids on bigotry.

With the rise of Nazi activity and the fact that it’s actually being covered in the news is especially a big issue for disabled people as the Nazi party used propaganda like mercy killings and disabled being “useless leaders” to carry out our genocide and use the legal precedent to go as far as they did. The infamous gas chambers themselves were first created for the disabled population. For further information the victims were referred to as T4 patients which refers to the preferred drug for execution, Aktion T4.

The number four refers to a street address Tiergartenstraße 4 in Berlin where beginning in 1940 the “Chancellery department” where people received paid training. The most accomplished that went on to run the gas chambers were sent to run them in concentration camps. There were 70,273 T4 victims between September 1939 to August 1941. It was then banned due to what is referred to as the most influential protest since the rule of the Third Reich; NTABs had legitimate concerns of how many and how quickly people were deemed disabled enough to be a T4 patient. Of course, it still continued on. Primarily by Catholic authorities in Germany.

To be fair to Germany, the United States was far more extreme in eugenic philosophies (just the word didn’t have the gravity it does post World War II so there is a misconception that America were the good guys but not to eugenic policies were based off of America’s political philosophies and laws.

Our two groups usually don’t interact very much, even online, but if you follow disabled bloggers or people on twitter you will see them complaining about how people particularly treat “young disabled people” or DMs.

Those disabled people who consider themselves liberal or conservative and especially people who subscribe to the medical model of disability are a sub–community but they are used to being the entire community. They are a sub–community of which is largely irrelevant here because their philosophies are irrelevant.

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This subculture of disability has no term to refer to it specifically, one has yet to be coined, on this issue I welcome old disabled people offer up a term they would like us to use to refer to them. There hasn’t really been a need for a term thus far because, as I said they are irrelevant, and we only talk about relevant things so there hasn’t yet been a need for one.

But I sincerely welcome them to coin their own term but I caution them from doing it on social media as words that are “created” on social networks like Tumblr are regarded as… I don’t know house to put this  other that they are irrelevant. Those terms are given little credibility because they don’t have a long history which can be sourced before the invention of social media unlike the term “social model” of disability despite how similar they sound.

Where did all these crippled people come from?

People are always making comments about how they’re surprised or skeptical that someone young can be disabled. There is a very simple explanation for that: millennials are the first generation of disabled people whose majority reached adulthood.

People are always making comments about how they’re surprised or skeptical that someone young can be disabled. There is a very simple explanation for that: millennials are the first generation of disabled people whose majority reached adulthood.

There are all these misconceptions about disability that are fundamental issues for us; we spent all of our time explaining/justifying our existence to able-bodied people. We have to explain basic things like it being illegal for us to get married, illegal for us to travel, our minimum wage being set at $0.22 an hour, our not being allowed to have savings, our only being allowed to have $2,000 at the most at any given time, that 50% of all murders committed by the police in the United States are disabled, that we were systematically and legally sterilized until 2014.

bUp until the past few decades “disabled” people were people that were injured or elderly. At times most disabilities were war wounds and if you were disturbing to look at you weren’t legally allowed to be in public. Those were called Ugly Laws and they ended throughout the United States throughout the 70s. Able-bodied people were coming back from Vietnam only to find that they no longer had a place in society and that’s why things change. For them, not for us.

If any child was born with a visible disability they were immediately killed. They were considered to have died in childbirth and most parents weren’t informed about the reason.

When it became evident that a person had invisible disabilities like mental illnesses and certain genetic mutations they were gotten rid of in three ways: wealthy white families would have a nursing staff at home where the disabled person would be hidden, the family would kill the disabled person in what was considered socially/politically/question acceptable as a mercy killing, or they would be sent away to asylums.

It’s perceived that these asylums you see in horror movies are from eras back but there are still people alive today who survived those facilities before they were condemned. When those most heinous institutions were shut down and abandoned they made more. They made more that didn’t look as bad. Everything remained the same and the three options families had or wanted remained the same.

As a marginalized people, disabled people didn’t receive civil rights until 1990 when what we call the ADA was created. These ratifications in the 90s have still not eliminated basic things like segregation.

That these things are still going on, let alone legal, seems far fetched to people because those are the issues they read about in history class. They, able-bodied neurologically typical millennials, learned about racial prejudice in such a whitewashed way (pun intended) that most are also shocked to learn that there are some people alive who remember racial segregation. The average person can tell you who Rosa Parks is but not Claudette Colvin. When they were taught about the Holocaust they didn’t acknowledge queer people; they were never told that the infamous gas chambers were originally built for disabled people who were the Nazi party’s first successful genocide attempt.

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1990

They didn’t learn that America had a more aggressive eugenics system, that the Nazi party adopted it and the only reason any were outlawed in America itself is because the association with Nazis with such bad press internationally. It’s the same reason that little girls have to wear pink.

Before World War II pink was seen as a gentle red, the color of blood, so boys were dressed in pink. Blue was associated with the Virgin Mary so people would dress their daughters in blue. You can see the story of eugenics in any toy if you know what you’re looking at but no one does.

Well, they don’t.

That’s the reason they don’t pay attention to things like the 2016 genocide in Sagamihara, Japan. Despite it being a first world country, one of our allies, and their government’s refusal to release the names of the victims as to not embarrass the families just as all of the Pulse victim’s names from Florida were released in full.

They don’t notice because they don’t think genocide of disabled people is entirely bad because they only know the kinds of disabled people who used to be one of them. Sometimes in TV and movies they have people who became disabled but then things like magic or miracles happen and they became able-bodied again. One of them again.

Most people have never seen a whole disabled person.

Admittedly, we are seeing a few actual disabled people (disabled as in society has disabled them, they didn’t become a fallen hero or a cautionary tale) but all of them are from that top-tier of disability, the privileged white ones. In defense of privileged white ones, they don’t get anything beyond crip face so it’s not all that great, but still.

We have to be fair and remember how ignorant they are but we also have to be fair about our demands for visibility.

Praise Hephaestus, the Internet came to life just as this real generation of disabled people did and we took advantage of it. Some of us could stay in the closet in real life but a lot of us couldn’t. Even then, those of us who couldn’t/can’t are still constantly questioned and criticized because able-bodied don’t believe someone that looks so young or “healthy” or even happy could have a disability so we are constantly coming out every time we leave the house… So we sometimes chose not to; we stay at home and pretended to be one of them.

A lot of people still depend on being in the closet. Unfortunately the Internet hasn’t always been our friend, because of social media if we are outed in one place we are outed everywhere. Then we have to come out every time we log on because we might be lying. We don’t sound like disabled people, whatever they think disabled people sound like.

For many people it’s still a matter of life or death, families still don’t want disabled relatives to the point where they kill them. Legally.

5956907918000035006724c4_zpspxlh2sqoThere’s hardly ever any news about us so we tend not to notice but the legal precedent for killing your disabled child is to dismiss it as a mercy killing. Even rape is given the equivalent sentence of bestiality because laws made when we were considered inhuman still remain. There are still a lot of hospitals that kill disabled people as soon as they’re born and the parents still aren’t told. We still have parents suing hospitals because they wanted to keep us but the hospital never gave them an option.

So although it can get frustrating when no one includes you in their “social justice” remember that there are a lot of reasons they don’t know we exist and there are a lot of us that are alive only because we can keep their existence a secret.

What is cripple punk? #cpunk

I saw Kevin or Chad or whatever; he’s an aryan dude who was captain of the basketball team but then he got drunk or fell off something he was climbing or some other dumb shit and now was paralyzed and he was constantly telling everyone how he was proof that you should treat disabled kids like they’re real people.

I mean, yeah, duh, he was one of them who accidentally became one of us so of course he was like them.

Cripple punk is like punk but there is a lot more sitting.

I think it’s also the only legitimate subculture in the disabled community. There are many subgroups but they fall short of an individual culture. Cripple punks refer to themselves as cripple punks, they don’t consider themselves to be a part of AB (able-bodied) culture, they have their own language, they (seemingly coincidentally) have a similar aesthetics, they are creating their own art solely meant for their own community, they have their own doxa, and they are creating traditions.

This isn’t unusual for a marginalized group but it’s a first for disabled people because up until the last few decades those of us who were kept alive were isolated from society and each other.

James I. Charlton made a great observation when he said, “The key to unlocking the dilemma of identification and its failure lies in the phenomenology of oppression itself. Fundamentally, identities are contrived because they only exist as products of domination. Social groups exist as collectors of people whom the dominant culture selects for exclusion.”

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We struggled to build communities but our history was effortlessly appropriated to be a brand for “edgy” people

Disability is a cultural construct.

If you don’t know what that is, Google it. It’s not my responsibility to educate you.

Except that’s kind of what I’m doing.

It was about 10 years ago on Tumblr back when it only worked 90% of the time (as opposed now when it only works 80% of the time but never the way you want) as the “social justice warrior” term was being coined I was seeing more bloggers coming out as disabled. Before that there weren’t many of us and a lot of us didn’t last long. Suicide was one of the major causes.

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I never understood why the term “social justice warrior” was supposed to be offensive. It’s kind of like when men were afraid of suffrage and made political cartoons about the slippery slope leading to their having to wash their own dishes.

It wasn’t “online bullying” although we would be hard-pressed to go a day without death and rape threats but it never seems like a big deal because to a lesser extent you get the same thing simply blogging as a woman. We were killing ourselves at our national average but suddenly people were noticing because blogs would suddenly go dead. Able-bodied people would follow us because of shared fandoms so when we disappeared the void was felt because of the sudden drop in content being produced.

It was actually able-bodied people taking note of the suicides that made me stop blogging about disability for a long time.

There was this disabled blogger who got popular for constantly starting arguments when people posted ableist things and when she killed herself no one saw it coming. People knew that we were friends so I kept being asked what happened and I didn’t know what to say. I knew why she had done it, I had discussed it with her many times and I supported her decision. I didn’t condone it but I wasn’t in a position to condone it. When I told people that she had her own reasons and I respected her decision they got really mad.

Which made me really mad.

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I’ve always wondered what “temporary problems” people who say this are referring to. Temporary how? Like a herpes flareup?

She was in an impossible situation and there was no helping it. People felt sorry for her, they would send her messages about how she was unlike any other cripple person because she stood up for herself. These people couldn’t understand how a person that inspirational could just give in. They were so shocked they forgot everything about her besides the fact that she had committed suicide.

I tried to explain to people there was nothing I could do to make her life better and neither could she; the one thing she had control over was her death. She could choose to wait until one of her family members killed her or her insurance didn’t approve something serious enough but she also had the option of deciding she was done and die in a way of her own choosing.

Her life never belonged to her. She hated that. She decided that she wasn’t going to let them have her death either.

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The suspension of disbelief starts with her access to bleach and hair dye. And romance novels. And everything else.

I wish I could give you her name but of course we all went by screen names and that was a time where you would change it depending on the season or your mood. She’s just another one of the nameless dead. She knew that’s what she would become and we joked about it.

It was either that or become a poster child for some charity and we agreed we didn’t want to do that anymore.

And as someone who was a Jerry’s Kid whose image was used without her family’s knowledge or consent I’m not being facetious.

I’m sure everyone has a version of the way it happened but from my perspective I saw people come out explicitly to reprimand some of the increasing pro–eugenics posts. Most of the posts weren’t intentionally pro–eugenics. Most were things like people advocating for legal abortion because… You know. Us.

I was one of those that accidentally came out enough times and got enough followers that I realize I could never go completely back in the closet like I use to do when things got hard. I specifically made a side blog which I named gimpunk; obviously I still like the name, combining the “p”s seems cool to me.

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God, I’m jealous

Death is not something I’m unfamiliar with I was born with a terminal illness so I regarded my death like many middle-aged people, it’s going to happen at some point and I wanted everyone to remember who I wanted my stuff to go to.

I’ve also had a lot of people in my life die, most significantly my father who raised me; his funeral was set on my 13th birthday because everything bad that happens to me is also kind of funny.

The hardest funeral for me to get through was a friend of mine at 16 who had the same disability as me. We met a few times at MDA camp and, remember how I said everything was funny, years later I found out we actually lived in the same town all those years. We ran into each other vying for the handicap space at a movie theater.

My friend got pneumonia and it wasn’t too long before she was hospitalized. With something like pneumonia and conditions like ours it be like the equivalent of ripping your heart out and seeing how it goes, there is no surviving it. No one could really understand why she was so unphased by it or why it made her mad when people said she was an inspiration.

My friend was cripple punk.

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Model: Bukashka
Artist: Ram Zorkot

My childhood best friend from kindergarten on had a pink wheelchair, she taught me how to smuggle things into school with it. One of my mom’s favorite anecdotes was when I brought the channel changer to school with me and spent the day pushing the buttons, hoping the TV at home was changing channels, hoping dad would think the house was haunted. Everyone laughed at the time but you can do that shit from your cell phone now so I was a visionary.

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Devin McGrath

My best friend would do these amazing things, things I couldn’t fathom and most days still can’t. She called people’s bluff. She was willing to face her punishment for not finishing her meals in the 15 minutes we were given to use the cafeteria before the normal kids would come in and could see us. She was willing to face her punishment for not referring to herself as handicapable. When we were all lined up against the side of the “portable” a.k.a. special ed, waiting for buses and other kids for being assholes she was willing to face her punishment for talking back to them.

One time she just left.

She went to sit under a tree.

That tree we always talked about looking so nice in the summer when we had to lineup on the pavement facing the 3 PM sun against the beige plastic backdrop.

When they brought her back she left again. She would keep leaving until they could think of the ultimate punishment for us. We didn’t know what this punishment was but it was supposedly worse than what our peers were doing as they passed by.

They would sit on her footrests.

tumblr_lbytqmwVgk1qa38rro1_500She laughed when they did it because that meant they had to come out of the shade as long as we did so it a bigger punishment on them. I didn’t dare laugh but I tried to convey through eyes and smiles “OMFG I love you.”

After I started joining her to sit under the tree they separated us but we were together as much as possible and we had those 3 to 5 hour bus rides home together.

That amazing supernova shit kicker is cripple punk.

Like I said, I thought gimpunk was a little more clever, but whatever. (Actually I really liked it because it started with “cripple” and calling myself crippled was the one thing I refused to cave in about.)

There have been cripple punks all throughout history. Ones like…

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I saw someone make a really good point once, the fact that it was trendy to publish black and white photos of news events in the early 90s makes it hard to convince people that these are current events.

There have to be some, right? I know it’s not just millennials, I know the ADA was created in the early 90s because I’ve seen the pictures of disabled people climbing the stairs of the White House while I was surfing through Google a few times. I’ve seen those really cool pictures of abandoned asylums where people like me would’ve gone but other than that I didn’t know anything about disabled people.

Maybe it’s better that I’m sticking with gimpunk. I don’t know if I can call myself cripple punk just yet but I’ve been a hard-core fan girl of it my whole life.

Most disabled people were horrible like on TV, either bitter or able to get better and I wasn’t able to get better.

I would get reprimanded when I said that given the chance I would want to keep my body like it is. I was obviously not like disabled people. That’s what people kept telling me.

I was praised for not being like other disabled people. For not being bitter, for not getting in the way, for not talking back, for apologizing when someone hurt me, for smiling, for looking able-bodied outside of a wheelchair, for being willing to be seen in public in a wheelchair, for not killing myself like they would have in my situation.

They always got really upset if they weren’t the ones responsible for our deaths.

Death has always been omnipresent.

I kept getting different expectations of what my life span would be and over half the population thought I should kill myself which I don’t get, it just sounds like they’re admitting that they’re weaker than me. If they thought sitting in a wheelchair all the time was bad enough to kill themselves they were obviously very sheltered. It was amazing how sheltered people were even if they “know exactly what it’s like” because they once spent the day in a wheelchair to see what it was like. Everyone was sheltered, especially the medical professionals who swore they knew better than me and never were.

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Speaking of Harley Quinn…
Physical handicaps are made the emblems of evil… Giving disabilities to villainous characters reflects and reinforces, albeit in exaggerated fashion, three common prejudices against handicapped people: disability is a punishment for evil; disabled people are embittered by their “fate”; disabled people resent the nondisabled and would, if they could, destroy them. In historic and contemporary social fact, it is, of course, nondisabled people who have at times endeavored to destroy people with disabilities. As with popular portrayals of other minorities, the unacknowledged hostile fantasies of the stigmatizers are transferred to the stigmatized.
– Death, Disability, and the Superhero: The Silver Age and Beyond

Normal people had this weird version of my world where everyone was nice to me, everyone likes me, no one would hurt me, no one would intentionally physically hurt me, no one took me places that weren’t exactly legal, and I never saw or heard anything that weren’t age-appropriate. People thought that those really bad things, the things TV dramas always talked about, didn’t happen to people like me.

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This is the equivalent to the “I’m so excited” episode as far as I’m concerned

I thought there were probably like a handful of other disabled people in the world and if they were alive it meant they were the kind cripples like the characters in wheelchairs that would suddenly appear in “educational entertainment” shows and cartoons. The episode would be about how the normal characters learned that cripple people were just like everyone else. I knew they had to say that because it was one of those shows that was trying to outdo the others by being more “progressive.” Sometimes they had the cripple kid also be the black kid. That’s when you knew they were on a tight budget.

 

I’m saying this sarcastically because I now have to admit I thought that all other disabled people lived lives like able-bodied people thought I did. They told me I was rare, sometimes miraculous, and they were supposed to know because they were the ones that were constantly telling me how much more they knew of the world and I did.

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I think this was edited with whatever software the US government used to start doctoring photos around World War II

But they weren’t necessarily wrong, we were from completely different worlds. I was in their world and for some reason I accidentally got born here. I didn’t know what my world was and I was too afraid to think about it because everyone kept telling me how much I should appreciate this one.

 

And this one sucked.

We all know this is the part where I talk about where I “overcame” which, as I’m saying this, I’m realizing how nasty that sounds in the past tense.

I never overcome anything. I didn’t want to overcome anything.

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Model: Olga Moskvina
Artist: Nika Kurnosova

 

I preferred it when people didn’t even try and they would just leave me alone instead of forcing the other kids on me which only  made them hate me worse.

Long story short, death was just something that was going to happen in the future like any other future event. I wasn’t having a super great time here and it didn’t seem like anyone else was either, why was everyone so concerned with this shit ending?

I said “fuck it” and only thought of events in the near future. Only the things that interested me.

I fucked that, didn’t I? It would’ve been really helpful if someone had taught me any practical skills when I was a kid. Like how to get your social worker to call you back.

Everything I had ever been good at wasn’t worth a shit because those sheltered mother fuckers would dump all these useless ribbons on me and gush about how proud they were. If anything I had done was any good it was tainted by proxy. If they were going to make a big deal about anything I was going to be so passive aggressive that they lost all faith in humanity. God willing.

Don’t get me wrong, I did see disabled people.

tumblr_ldmu80JaL21qfak7ao1_500I saw Kevin or Chad or whatever; he’s an aryan dude who was captain of the basketball team but then he got drunk or fell off something he was climbing or some other dumb shit and now was paralyzed and he was constantly telling everyone how he was proof that you should treat disabled kids like they’re real people.

I mean, yeah, duh, he was one of them who accidentally became one of us so of course he was like them.

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Those were different kinds of disabled people. Beyond our dispositions they were fundamentally not disabled like me. If I tried to point that out to anyone they would try to make me feel guilty for hating myself. There was always some kid worse off than I was and I should feel lucky for being allowed to do as much as I do.

They were Victorian–fainting–couch–style horrified that I didn’t realize how much I got away with because if I wanted to live I had to do what the state said so I really didn’t have any rights, being allowed to live was a privilege. I was living on the People™’s  dime. I needed to remember I was still one of those kinds of kids. It wasn’t politically correct to say special ed at the time so they called us “County kids”

This is cripple punk.

Don’t mistake it for an antisocial or subversive movement or trend, it’s nothing.

It doesn’t matter. Not unless I want it to.

How normal people feel about anything relating to me is not something I give a fuck about. Everything I do is for me, no one else.

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My own life story feels fake. I feel fake. This is all really a stretch, right? I’m telling myself that no one is going to believe this and I’m probably crazy because I know I actually did have it good. I had it better than the disabled kids that weren’t white.

I keep telling myself I’m exaggerating. It seems just like those “special episodes” on TV  that pretend to show how bad being disabled can be. But it don’t care. I don’t care what ABs think.

And I don’t care what other disabled people think.

If you don’t like me making jokes about me killing myself I don’t care. If you don’t want to hear me talk about anything but disability™ I don’t care. I’m done. I’m calling everyone’s bluff.

What can you do to me? Hurt me?

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Evan Keeling

By the way you people talk about pain I would sincerely be interested in knowing how much pain you thought “bad.” Where you would put it on a scale of 1 to 10.

Are you going to kill me? If you’re going to kill me you’ll do it no matter what I say.

And I’m trying not to care that this is coming off across as some liberal diatribe about free speech.

Look, I see absolutely no point in the Special Olympics. Unless you are my kind of cripple I can’t relate to you at all but good on you, I’m happy for you, dude.

I don’t care what I look like. I don’t care about what you think I should do two or about my body.

I don’t care if you think I’m fake because I don’t go to any protests. I don’t have have to prove I was sick enough to be able to avoid it.

I don’t care if you care that I don’t care.

But if you’re cool we should follow each other.

That’s cripple punk.

That’s the tag I would go to when inspirational porn bots infiltrated the “actually disabled” ones.

I had asking my followers for a few days who thought what was better, cripple punk or gimpunk. Both terms were floating around. Gimp was not going to work because SJW ABs wouldn’t share something that had a slur in it. I spent all my time being told that gimp was a slur and I shouldn’t use it.

tumblr_okzgr0I0dN1qeklrro5_250_zpsgnickvn6It was ironic given that cripple is also a slur.

ABs found out that you can’t speak English fluently without using ableist language and when I told people that it made them even more angry and I got more hate mail but I didn’t care.

And then people sent DMs about how much they thought some of the stuff I was doing was cool but explicitly assured me that it didn’t “inspire” them. They sent me encouragement because they thought the hate was obviously getting to me but it didn’t bother me because I don’t care. If you can find something to say that I haven’t heard before I’ll give you kudos whether you think I should be murdered or not.

I don’t care if you use words like stupid and I don’t care if other disabled people tell you you can’t.

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Artist: Robbie Ausberger

But I don’t care about these things equally which is a problem because it inadvertently makes me care that you listen to what the other disabled person has to say and pay them some fucking respect.

I really care then. I’ll metaphorically curb stomp you and if we’re on the Internet that means I’ m coming for that jerk off dream you’re having that you’re allowed to have an opinion. It’s over before it began.

If you agree with me by putting another disabled person down I’m only going to make you suffer more so don’t bother trying to kiss my ass.

That’s cripple punk

And I don’t care what your definition is unless you’re one of my kind. Unless you have a chronic physical illness.

 

Today I hate able-bodied people

“I feel good” means something very different to them than it does to you or I.

Disabled people talk about how they’re feeling physically and emotionally like white people talk about money in polite company; which is not at all.

Getting real tired of their shit in general but I got this question on Tumblr and decided to be an asshole. But where is the lie?

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I answered:

It is true that ABs feel entitled to be comfortable and unless it’s on a level in which they have to make a conscious moral decision they will never take anyone else’s comfort into consideration.

I mean, look at them when they stub a toe or something, they have absolutely no tolerance for pain. Especially the old ones.

If someone’s legs are tired they’ll head back to the car instead of following their friend around who insists on window shopping. That’s just not something that’s in our culture to do, we take other people’s feelings into consideration way too much, although it’s necessary because we have to because we have no autonomy.

If an AB couldn’t sit up one morning they would call 911 but even if they didn’t they would just lay there. They would expect family members and friends to immediately jump to do little things like call the doctor or get an ice pack. Especially the men.

Still not as whiny as most of our cis men, but still.

Imagine if one of them said to this person who suddenly couldn’t sit themselves up, “you just aren’t trying hard enough.”

They would have a fit. People would be offended on their behalf. The behavior would be seen as offensive. Offensive to the one who couldn’t get out of bed. The latter isn’t expected to apologize for even asking and for causing trouble. They don’t even thank the other person for the inconvenience them so they the know you know your place. They are less likely to be passive aggressive and do little things like move things out of your reach which result in even worse pain.

And get this, if they took off time from work or school because they couldn’t get out of bed they would use that as an excuse instead of just apologizing and accepting the demerits. It’s even pretty likely that their superiors will accept this excuse and make things more accessible for their special needs like extending due dates.

Isn’t that bizarre?

That sure would’ve come in handy when I was hospitalized unexpectedly in college, I might’ve even been able to stay in school longer than a year.

You put up with more pain on an average day than your loved ones are likely to in a year. They don’t know how much pain you’re in because it’s lost in translation, you speak completely different languages that sound so much alike that we all tend to forget that there is a difference.

“I feel good” means something very different to them than it does to you or I.

Disabled people talk about how they’re feeling physically and emotionally like white people talk about money in polite company; which is not at all.

If you are honest with your loved ones, and they are willing to listen, they may be able to understand that they can’t understand. It’s legitimately not something in their paradigm so as annoying as it is try to be patient but by all means you should let people know how you’re feeling.

Try this: for one week pay close attention to how often ABs talk about pain or health. I would then suggest you try to talk about your own health the same amount the following week but I tried that and I hardly lasted a day before everyone said something to the effect of “but you’re always like that so it’s not a big deal.”

It does feel dehumanizing but the hardest thing for them to understand is why we aren’t terrified. They talk about it so often because it gives them anxiety. They don’t want to see it or hear about it so they anxiously talk about it constantly as if they are hoping not to jinx themselves. It becomes really obvious in things that have simple solutions like taking medication. When ABs refuse to take medicine it can be a little stupefying. Why would they complain about something so much but not do a very simple thing that will either cure it or treat it so it wasn’t as bothersome?

Not that we rush off to the doctor, a lot of it is just take care of our own emergencies which is also a bit stupefying if you look at it objectively. I’ve broken bones and not gone to the doctor, let alone the hospital, and even though I took care of it as well as a doctor would have with the bonus of it being free it was free there are a lot of reasons why I should’ve gone each time, like having the documentation of my injury. But it’s just such a hassle… And I’m tired of signing my name.

That’s how ABs feel about walking.

That’s why a lot of people who become disabled later in life are so intolerable. It’s understandable that they weren’t prepared for the cultural shift but when they go on and on about how it’s not fair… Jesus Christ. And they are the ones all the ABs listen to because they are seen as fallen heroes and that’s why we keep getting shit forced on us like “handicapable”