Is It Really A Disability?

I am not going to be baited into the whole PC terms of mental health diagnoses and sunshine spewing, ” I’m not disabled,I am differently abled.” Ugh.

A disability is defined as having conditions that hinder or impact basic daily tasks and social interactions. It is not saying you are lacking in intelligence. It does not mean you are completely incapable. Disability is not a bad word until you factor in stigma and of course,ego. That’s what it is,refusing to be labeled disabled because you femand credit for all you are able Again,ugh.

I have bipolar depression,seasonal affective disorder,ADHD,generalized anxiety disorder,borderline personality disorder (I protest that),panic disorder,and avoidant personality disorder (I OWN that one.)

“Yeah,but is really a disability?” I get asked.

I just went 8.days without a shower. My only happy time is bedtime and sleep. My kid had 2 friends over last week amd the flurry of hyperactive motions and loud talking filling every moment left me shaky,on edge,and angry to have my senses overloaded. They just show up unininvited and that is a long standing trigger for me. I have burst into tears multiple times when a cat I follow on FB died. It turned into hour long sobbing because the grief went to the bone.

It IS a disability. All my diagnoses are individually but put together,I should be commended for getting out of bed.

“Yeah,but are you sure you’re not just avoiding unpleasant things that make you uncomfortable? Maybe you are just lazy.”

I haven’t had a date,let alone relationship,in 11 years. 11 YEARS ALONE. Because just raising a kid alone leaves me dtained. I have nothing left to give. The depression is like a bear trap perpetually atound my leg. Maybe not visible but it is there and men don’t flock to sad chicks.

I haven’t been to a concert since 1999. The crowd,the noise-it overwhelms and puts me into terrified fight or flight mode. When in that state,I could walk into a plate glass wall in scared haste and hurt myself. If something I love is so overwhelming and terror inducing,it proves my disabilities are legitimate. I don’t turn them on and off according to I like that,I can be in my right mind today. Or ugh,I gotta go pay bills,no,I am too depressed,I literally can’t. (My kid is a pro at that ge.) I wish I were faking it. No one chooses to to be chronically sad and in perpetual fight or flight mode. I had no choice in this. Mental illness just happens.

If it hinders even the things you enjoy…IT IS A DISABILITY. PERIOD.

It doesn’t mean I am dumb. It does not make me weak. It doesn’t mean I am unable to do a plethora of other things with ease. It just means I have limitations and the world does not adapt for me,thetefore my conditions are disabling. Robbing me of the ability to.hold a job and have self esteem and true independence is a disability.


2 Responses to “Is It Really A Disability?”

  1. “Differently abled,” I like that.

  2. Hugs I agree, mental illnesses are so disabling. X

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