Daily Archives: May 29, 2012

on being disabled

i am an asshole.

when i think about it, i have never really been fully aware of the experience of disabled persons.  now that it is relevant to me, i find i’m taking more interest in the disabled community.

i think back to times when i had an opportunity to get some kind of training that specifically deals with disabled persons.  i was nice enough, i could accommodate people without a problem, why do i need special training?  on the first day of a class, i mention that students with disabilities should see me but i realize i kind of breeze over it like it is some kind of side note.  i haven’t ever been to the disability resource center.  hell, i haven’t even been to their website.  i feel like a sham.

increasingly, i see how disabilities are neglected.  and when they aren’t neglected, they are exploited.  today we are talking in class about communication and cognition.  literally in the first 5 minutes i observed that we were watching an excerpt from See No Evil, Hear No Evil.  It is a comedy about a dynamic and disabled duo who are going to foil the plans of a group of thieves.  i also noticed that the student who was presenting wore a shirt that read, “you’re just jealous because the voices to talk to me”.  all of the sudden, disabilities are everywhere.  but not in the way they should be.

i am also ashamed to say that my most regrettable decision is one that involves disabilities.  since the moment i did it, i regretted it and i shocked even myself by having done it.  it clearly indicated that some priorities needed adjusting.

not that my actions are his fault, but i was dating a major asshole at the time.  we shared a dark sense of humor and one day we were riding our bikes through campus.  i saw that some students were being led around with blindfolds on.  the goal, i think, is to understand the experience of the blind and to feel what it is like to rely on someone else for your safety and sensory experience.

i coasted by one pair walking around.  a young girl was blindfolded and holding the hand of another student.  i saw my course of action in a flash and had only a moment to execute it.  instead of thinking, ‘hey, this is a really dick thing to do’ i was thinking how funny my boyfriend at the time would find it.

i acted immediately on impulse and it was only after i had done it that i finally said to myself ‘hey, you’re a real asshole’.  when my bicycle was just a few feet away, i stood up on my pedals and shouted, “RAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWR!”.  my plan worked, and the poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin.  i was laughing on the outside, but on the inside i was asking myself, ‘who are you??’

i suppose thankfully that experience led me to seriously question the person i was becoming in that relationship and eventually to get out of it entirely.  but i have still not forgotten what a piece of shit i was that day.

even when i have been faced with disabilities nearly every day for almost a year (with XBF), i realize i have not fully grasped the meaning of accommodation nor of the feelings disabled people might have about their condition or about the way people respond to them.  XBF, for instance, is disabled due to traumatic brain injury.  accommodations have been made.  patience is not only a virtue, but a prerequisite.  i have had to trust him when he forgets (every)things.  conversations become a challenge when he loses his train of thought mid-sentence.  he responds to stress poorly and get physically sick more easily from stress.

now i am sitting here, trying to assimilate my disability with my sense of self.  it is a source of stress as well as of relief.  i feel stress when i think of acceptance from others.  i also hear my mother telling me i am a victim and have a victim mentality, as she did when i dared broach the subject of her parenting finesse (or lack thereof).  i feel relief because i can put a name to the struggles i have always felt but don’t dare to name.  i have come far in my education and i always felt that it was more difficult for me than for others, but no one wants to hear that.  it means i can stop holding myself to a perfect standard and become more comfortable in my own skin.

i wonder what accommodations are made for the teachers.  i know they are made for students, but what about instructors who are disabled?  are instructors even allowed to be disabled or to receive accommodations?  now that i think about it, i haven’t ever heard of accommodations for academics.  do they get time and a half for grading?  will i need to tell all future jobs that i have a disability?  will i be able to get a job?  will i be able to keep it?


Keeping Track of Triggers (Article)

Keeping Track of Triggers (Article)

informative article I received in my email from Esperanza (Hope to cope with Anxiety and Depression)

hopefully you don’t need a subscription to read the artcile.

Brain Fog

What the hell is up with that?  Brain Fog. I used to be able to blame it on the meds, but not so much anymore… Can’t even blame it on booze or recreational drugs because I don’t drink much and don’t do the latter anymore. Which leads me to believe it must be from one of my other ailments; the lupus or the thyroid problems or the arthritis or the fibromyalgia. Take a pick!

But it doesn’t seem to accompany any other symptoms other than I am completely out of it sometimes. Like I’m not even here in this realm. And I hate it when I am on conversation, because it’s like I’m having an out of body experience, and I am asking myself “What the hell is your problem??? Why are you spacing out like that???” the whole time I am trying to have a conversation. Does that make sense to anyone? Please someone say they know what I am talking about! :/

I find this feeling to be the same feeling when I wear my newly prescribed glasses. I just got them last week. I’ve never ever worn glasses or contacts before in my life. (I have an astigmatism which is worse in my left eye and I am apparently farsighted) I find myself not liking to wear these things because my world looks totally different. I mean it’s nice to see things clearly, but I don’t like feeling like I am looking in a different world.

In other news, the paranoia has subsided.

So, anyone know how to fix brain fog? Because I really hate this shit!

Supplemental

Insomnia seems to be sneaking up to nip at my heels; I can only presume that it’s further evidence of a possible mood swing. I couldn’t tell you which way at current – I don’t think it’s hypo ’cause I’m not bouncing about trying to create (That was a week or two ago, I think. Think.), but I don’t feel like I’m returning to depression yet either. I’m not feeling terribly motivated, but I’m not unmotivated either. I’m just sort of… here… I guess.

I added another herbal supplement to my regime last night; my husband had ordered me a pot of flaxseed oil tablets upon doctor’s suggestion. Well, he suggested oily fish (I don’t much like fish as done here; Texans do shrimp, crabs, lobsters, and catfish… not cod and haddock), and then said something about Omega 3-6-9. Flaxseed oil covered that remit better than any fish oil tablets my husband could find, so that’s what we nabbed. I’m adding that to my daily intake of a chamomile tablet (for anxiety), so we’ll see how that helps. It probably can’t hurt, at the very least. And if natural supplements can keep me on a smaller dose of mind-altering meds (I’m currently on 200mg of Seroquel, and that’s it), then it’s a very good thing, especially with this continued attempt to have kid #2. I logic that if I can get part way to keeping sane with natural meds, then that might succor me through the nine months of pregnancy once that kids off; I intend to not breastfeed so I can get medicated again asap. I am making that decision most firmly based on my experiences after my first was born. Judge as you will or won’t (I admit that I used to judge a bit in this regard), but I have to do what I think is going to be best for me and FutureSprog™®. After said future child is born, I’m all for chemicalling up and seeing what further strides I can do in self-repair.

Past that, I am pleased that I managed to make this blog slightly more functional! While WordPress itself supports threaded/nested comments, this theme doesn’t. I managed to find a page that provided the code to make comments.php support threaded comments, and it worked perfectly. So I welcomed the return of threads last night, and will be grateful for them as I start to pick up a few more commenters from amongst the fine folks comprising The Bipolar Blogger Network. I really like my theme, so it would have made me sad to need to change it to restore that functionality. My best friend Alicia is probably pleased – she loves WordPress, so me getting somewhere near competent is probably smile fodder.

I guess that’s it for now. I might go try to flop around and see if I can stretch my back out, but I suspect I’ll just end up staring off into the aether. Mmm, aether…

<3

for fuck’s sake

over the past month i have been trying desperately to stabilize.  i try to maintain a relaxed life so that i am not so susceptible to every stressor that comes by.  i am tired of being fucking debilitated by something as stupid as running out of TP or stubbing my freaking toe.

i write, i hang out with dogs, i mind my own business.  i barely leave the house even.

so will someone please tell me why the FUCK stress follows me around like a lost puppy?  there is no way, NONE, that i have done enough bad stuff in my life to warrant karma shitting on me to this degree for so long.

LISTEN FUCKER!  Yeah you, Karma! Just chill the fuck out while i catch my balance here.  for the love of god!

i just went to check my bank account to make sure everything is ready to go, rent-wise.  what do you know?  some FUCKING CUNT has stolen my credit card number and gone on a make-over shopping spree online.  bitch hit some website called HSN and bought a “Brazilian peel beauty treatment” and clinique wouldn’t even tell me what the order with them was.  so now i’ve got calls out to two merchants, the local police, and my bank.  i’m out of a debit card for a week.

s.o.B!!!

i’m pretty sure i know who did it too.  the sandwich place i always order delivery from is the *only* place i call to give a cc # when ordering something.  everywhere else has secure payment online.  so this little WHORE better run FAR, FAR away because she’s messing with a BIPOLAR BITCH now!

don’t make me angry.  you don’t want to see me when i’m angry.