Tag: disability

Amazon.com discounted Prime program

spoonie-living:

Listen, y’all, Amazon is one of the bigger dumpster fires of this dystopian future we live in, but they’ve also made themselves indispensable to disabled folks—and now they’ve taken a step to make themselves even more accessible.

Customers with EBT (food stamps) or Medicaid (state health insurance) can apply in a few easy steps, and then enjoy Prime at a little over 50% off its usual price of $12.99.

Bezos can get bent, but you deserve easier access to the products you need ❤️

Amazon.com discounted Prime program

autisticworldscollide:

star-otocinclus:

If you ever tell a disabled person that they can do anything they put their mind to, you personally owe me $10,000.

When I was in primary and high school we often had PE. I would of course be the slowest and clumsiest person on the field who always got tired way before anyone else. I don’t know about anywhere else, but at my school, sport was status.

I have distinct memories of Friday afternoon non-PSSA cricket. The entire time I was fielding, I felt like I was going to pass out, I could never catch anything. When I was batting, I could hear the groans and laughs from my team because I could only rarely hit the ball, and when I did it was never far.

I can clearly remember teachers telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough. That I was lazy and unfocused.

But here’s the thing. I did focus. I put my mind to it. Every single time.

I loved the feeling of running, when it didn’t make me feel like my bones would slide out of place.

The things those teachers told me? I believed them. Of course I did, what else was I going to believe? Society has a very strict and narrow view of what constitutes a disability and I am the first person in my family to have an active EDS gene.

When my health deteriorated significantly further and I discovered I had hEDS, my view on all my memories changed.

I don’t currently have the words to describe the sheer fury I now hold towards all of these people.

Moral of the story is that telling us we can do anything we put our minds to isn’t just ignorant, its downright harmful. Even now I still feel the flush of shame when someone says I can do something I know I can’t.

Besides, the very definition of disability means there are things we can’t do. So accept these differences and accommodate for them, don’t just pretend that our disabilities don’t exist because they make you uncomfortable. That’s your problem.

Where dyspraxia and EDS intersect

anti-bioreductionism:

Someone’s rights to their own bodies does not expire when they

  • get a certain diagnosis
  • you find them irrational
  • do something to their bodies you find absurd
  • are disabled, physically, mentally or intellectually
  • get pregnant
  • go against medical advice (if I never went against medical advice I’d be somewhere between bedridden or dead at this point, but it’s still legitimate even when following the advice does not have catastrophic consequences)
  • weigh what others consider too much or too little
  • cope in ways others don’t like
  • have made mistakes in the past
  • are described as not ‘themselves’ anymore

alarajrogers:

candidlyautistic:

ladyautie:

socialjusticewargames:

I saw a post the other day where a disabled person wrote about some sci-fi story where technology had eradicated disabilities. And the OP wrote “So in this utopia, I’m not supposed to exist!?” I couldn’t think of a way to explain to that kind of person that wanting somebody to be able to walk is not the same as wanting that person to stop existing.

It’s more complicated than that. 

I’m autistic. Let’s say that, in the future, every disability was erased. Either I would have been aborted, so that my disabled ass wouldn’t have tainted this “utopia”, or I just wouldn’t have been autistic, which mean that I wouldn’t have been “me”. 

My autism shapes the person that I am. Without it, I would have no idea what kind of person I would be. It wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t “exist”, yeah.

Also, you can create a cool sci-fi story with great and helpful technology for disabled people. No need to erase disability and to be ableist.

Unless the story is explicitly about undermining that utopia (apres The Giver), any author that removes disabled people from a story about a “perfect” world or society is showing their biases. A flawless utopia without diversity says a lot about a person.

I think it would be fair to say no current disabilities both exist and are still defined as disabilities, but there’s new disabilities caused by the technology or culture of the future.

For example, if we have the ability to regrow nerve tissue, then no one would have a spinal fracture that leaves them having to use a wheelchair. But what if the ability to regrow nerve tissue comes with side effects that can be disabling?

And then there’s neurodivergences, like autism and ADHD. What if a combination of assistive technologies and social change causes those things to no longer be defined as disabilities, where the parts that directly impact our ability to do stuff – such as executive dysfunction or being non-verbal – are aided with assistive technologies implanted in the brain, and the parts that don’t – such as stimming – are socially accepted and no one has a problem with it? That isn’t the same thing as “autism doesn’t exist” but it might not be considered a thing people care about enough to point out “some people are autistic” any more than we feel the need to say “some people like spicy food” or “some people are introverts”.

I can’t remember if it was fanfic or professionally published, but I recall a Star Trek story where a Cardassian who had been stunned too many times had suffered nerve damage as a result, and had a disability that doesn’t exist in the real world because we don’t have phasers with stun settings. Not that Star Trek has ever pretended to be a world without disabilities – Christopher Pike and Geordi LaForge both come to mind – but there’s obviously less disability in Star Trek than in the real world, because they can fix a lot more problems than we can. In the Marvel universe, they keep giving Charles Xavier back the ability to walk because it doesn’t make any sense that in a universe where new bodies can be cloned for people he should continue to be unable to walk, so as soon as “new clone body” became a plot point they eliminated their ability to keep someone long-term disabled by spine or leg damage. But they have mutants with disabilites caused by the inability to control their powers, such as Cyclops and Rogue, and those can’t be fixed by cloning someone. 

I do think it’s sloppy worldbuilding to try to say “there’s literally no disability whatsoever” (including in stories where they kill the disabled, because some people will slip through, particularly neurodivergent people who are good at faking normalcy.) Better to have some disabilities that have been cured, others that have much better treatment or assistive technology than today, and new ones we don’t have.

sssibilance:

chronicallyconnor:

sssibilance:

I am not confined to my wheelchair. More than half of wheelchair workers can stand and walk at least a little. Quit harassing us when we do. But even for those who can’t stand at all, a wheelchair is not a metal cage or medieval torture rack. It’s a custom medical device that frees us, that allows us to live fuller lives.

I had to fundraise for my wheelchair because my insurance didn’t cover durable medical. While I waited to get a wheelchair, that’s when I was confined. People had to come to me. The only place I could go was the grocery store, because they had scooters. Once a week I got to spend an hour outside the home. Other than that, I was unable to leave the house.

My wheelchair freed me. I could work until I got too sick (but many people work full-time in wheelchairs). I can visit friends, go grocery shopping by myself, go to the park or museum, excercise, go shopping. I can live life. It’s a changed life, but it’s no less full than an abled person’s life. I can’t work anymore, and I need more sleep. I’m in pain all day and can’t visit for long periods. I can’t spend all day at the museum anymore. But that’s my ME/CFS and fibromyalgia, not my wheelchair. I’m not confined. Without my wheelchair, I wouldn’t be able to do anything but sit on my porch.

In truth, the only thing confining me is lack of accessibility. Sidewalks that are more crack than concrete. Entrances that are non-ADA compliant. The lack of ramps and accessible parking. And society’s lack of care. The people who harass me for standing up in my wheelchair to grab a bottle of shampoo. The people who make disability benefits so hard to get. The businesses that ignore the e-mails I send asking for a $49 fix to their entrances so I don’t have to rely on two strong folx to get me through the door. The ableds who spread myth and misunderstanding. When I can’t get a parking spot, I’m confined. When there’s no ramp, I’m confined. When I can’t get the benefits I need to live, I’m confined.

Wheelchairs are not a prison sentence. The first thing I did after my wheelchair arrived was drive (all by myself!) to Home Depot. I bought a set of Allen wrenches for the chair I named Loka and then just rolled up and down Home Depot’s long, tall aisles. I rolled until my arms ached. I did it because I could.

Don’t ever look at a person in a wheelchair and pity them. They’re lucky to have a wheelchair. Could Stephen Hawking have done all the great, world-changing scientific work he did without his wheelchair and voice synthethiser? No, of course not. His wheelchair meant greater freedom; the opportunity to travel and spread scientific learning and inquiry. It meant getting around Cambridge, doing interviews, meeting the public. It meant being a more active father and husband.

Our wheelchairs drive our lives forward, literally. We are no more confined to them than you are to your sneakers.

A little louder for the people in the back.

MY WHEELCHAIR IS NOT MY PRISON. IT IS MY FREEDOM

I’M NOT CONFINED TO MY WHEELCHAIR.

queerdo-mcjewface:

thechronicchillpill:

chronicfatiguelife:

thechronicchillpill:

parents not believing their disabled child is actually disabled and forcing them to go beyond their limits is abuse.

parents calling their disabled kid a burden or a problem to them is abuse

parents using the disabled kids story to their advantage and making it more about themselves is abuse.

stop excusing abuse just because the victim is disabled.

Dude I totally needed to hear this. My mom HAS chronic health issues but for the longest time, denied anything was wrong with me. She’d tell me I was making it up to get out of school or doing chores, that I was lazy, that I should write a book of excuses, etc. Even after being diagnosed, she still expects more from me than my body is capable of doing. Because SHE was able to power through it when she was young, I should also be able to power through it is the way she looks at it.

Im so sorry you have to go through that, it isbt fair and no persons experience w illness is the same. You are your own person with your own personal struggles w illness. Fuck her.

Youre doing the best you can, keep going. I believe in you.

Refusing to allow their child to do things the child is capable of (or could do with assistance) is also potentially abusive.

crypt–kid:

paranoidpeonies:

I far too often hear from able-bodied people, this notion and expectation that disabled people can, somehow, “switch off” their disability when needed.

Example: I’m moving tomorrow and the help I was offered to move my boxes and furniture was withdrawn because I was told to “toughen up”, and that it’s “for your own good”. All because I don’t “look disabled” (an incredibly ableist notion in itself). 

Last time I moved, the same thing happened: I had to move everything to  another town, with no help, and the fatigue that ensued caused me to crash for months (despite doing the task as slowly as possible to try and conserve energy). I was in bed for weeks before I could function and even think properly, and was feeling the effects for a long time after. 

And to a lot of people, that probably sounds unrealistic and “dramatic”. But, to those people I say, you have no idea the reality of how hard it is living with invisible illnesses, and being constantly expected to “keep up” with abled people, constantly being patronised when you’re truly trying your best and being told that you’re not. 

Able-bodied people need to realise that when we say we can’t do something, we mean it, and we know our bodies and limitations well. It’s not code for you to spout some “it’s time to push yourself to the limits” nonsense. I honestly just want to be heard, and not doubted at every. single. turn. 

This. Fucking this. As a physically disabled person (Brown Sequard Syndrome, to be exact, along with Hashimoto’s Disease and an unresolved heart condition that attribute physical symptoms as well along with mental illnesses such as Bipolar Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), I’m made to feel guilty all the time by able-bodied, mentally stable people that just don’t get it. Plus, those notions start to pervade your OWN thoughts, so then you also get this feeling of, “Just fucking do it already. Like, it’s not that hard, people do this so regularly they hardly even think about it, so just do it already.” But you can’t, and then you feel even worse. And when you try to force yourself out of frustration or literally having no other option because you can’t get help from others or you’re tired of feeling like a burden, then you do serious harm to your body. Then, you’re bogged down even more than normally and the cycle continues. Perpetually exacerbated by the last attempt. And people think you’re lazy. And you start to believe them. And it deteriorates your mental state as well, and if you’re like me and already mentally ill, it just piles on and makes life hell. Moral of the story, if you don’t share someone’s illness, regardless of what it is, don’t pretend like you know what it’s like or that you know it’s limitations, and fucking believe disabled people when they tell you they’re literally incapable or risking severe pain. Quit approaching disabled people with a tough love attitude thinking we’re lazy underachievers that just need a push to do things. We. Know. What. We’re. Fucking. Talking. About.