Disabling Depression
I've been disabled longer than I thought because mental health disabilities exist as invisible disabilities. I take meds for depression, anxiety, and PMDD. I am never not in pain and I live in a very expensive city, in which I don't ever intend to leave. When I first became disabled, my "friends" stopped inviting me to things, outdoor events, and if they did invite me, they didn't think about my disabilities. This was mostly people I talked to in college and have completely cut them out of my life. I do have my disability to thank for showing me who my true family is. Now if only others were the same.
I've been publicly called a cripple, and even almost getting hit by a car on my own fucking street. "Move faster," *insert car honks of all variety,* and my personal favorite, "what's wrong with you?!" What's wrong with you that you're literally yelling at a stranger trying to cross her own street because the Lyft driver arrived at my one-way street house? It's also 2am on a Thursday! What happened to you? There will always be people out there who are and will always have the container for toxicity. I know what happened to me, my disability, my traumas and I chose to be a better person because of it. And I'm still fucking here; being myself as loud as I can.
I've tried to work a 40-hour work week while disabled, but couldn't do it. I've also tried a 30-hour work week, but it was so much more physically taxing that I had to quit. Additionally, navigating employment while disabled is truly an Amerikkkan nightmare. The marginalized suffer while the government and money control our class and are meant to divide us. I know many people who have lost family because of Covid. Disabled people are dying and no one cares, even before Covid.
I'm almost 30 and I see the lives of my able-bodied peers and think, "what's the point of all this if I can't even get a job? Not even my dream job, just a job where I can make money and use that money for leisure and assisting others?" Then the suicidal ideations builds and the more exacerbated my imposter syndrome becomes. Is it still imposter syndrome or are there too many barriers to living a happy, healthy life? I know life can be so devastating and as I age, this world ages with me in polluted time. The constant stress of survival is getting too much.
