Dispatches From Hellpeckersville-You Don’t Look Sick To Me….

(8 PM – promoted by TMC)

A lot of us are trying to make our way in this world struggling with what they call “invisable illnesses.” Now, what that means is–we may look perfectly fine, but we’re not. When we hang our disability placard and head into the store we feel that look, would it make you feel better if I limped for you, lady? I’m not going to! I have intractable migraine and fibromyalgia, so while I may look marvelous, I might just feel like shit and I am not alone.

And it’s not just strangers who judge. I’m sorry to say that even people who you thought were your closest friends, hell, even your family sometimes just don’t get it. You don’t look sick, why couldn’t you help them move? Well, sweetie, I could come wrap your dishes and kitchen stuff and put it in some boxes or things like that, but no…no, I won’t be toting any of those boxes. Did I just see an eye roll? Of course. I know I should expect it by now, but that shit still hurts, especially from those who know what I’ve been through.

I believe people tend to think that disability status is handed out like candy, I’d love to hear the stories from people who got it that easy. As for me, I was turned down twice, and finally had to get a lawyer and go before a judge, who told me I was lucky to get him, because it was “unusual” to get disability for migraines. But this judge, his wife suffered from terrible migraines, and he couldn’t imagine the hell of living with them every day, so he approved me. My fight lasted nearly three years and by the time I got disability my work history had shrunk so pathetically that the amount I get a month is less than a lot of people earn a week.

If you’re disabled, you’re part of the world’s largest minority, and in this country, it’s not like we treat minorities well. Disabled people are no exception. In fact, in the past few years we’ve gotten to hear how we’re leeches, sucking off the government teat. It’s not bad enough that we’ve lost our ability to work, our livelihoods, now we’re worthless parasites. Not worth the meager disability check we’re struggling to get by on. Hey! Is that soda in your grocery cart, and please tell me that’s not steak, you, with the EBT card in your hand! No, I don’t care whose birthday it is or if you’re doing without the rest of the month, you food stamp moocher! My cart? None of your damn business.

Well, I’m sorry to tell those people that it’s none of their business what I have in my cart either. On second thought, no…I am not sorry. I need to tell some people that they ought to try to walk in my shoes for a month. Hell, try it for a week. Be in agony, be robbed of the kind of work you used to enjoy doing, try to survive on a pittance, and above all–enjoy the judgement. Enjoy being robbed of your dignity. Because you no longer deserve any. No respect for you! You’re a lazy parasite now, how does it feel? Not too damn good, huh?

That’s why I’m not having any. For a while I did. I apologized for being sick, for not being able to do, I got depressed, I tried to explain to people. Then I stopped. For some people, just letting them know, giving them the opportunity to try to understand will be enough, for others? No amount of explaining or cold hard facts will ever be enough. I think they are the poorer for that attitude.

My dear friend David posted something earlier today that I would like to share to wind things up tonight. For everybody that has an invisible illness: