I can’t think of anything to say. You’ve said it all.
Because sometimes a sweary list is what’s needed when living with a chronic illness gets too much…
(Follow Natasha Lipman on Twitter: www.twitter.com/natashalipman)
Why the fuck should I have to “perform” my disability for someone to believe me?
Why the fuck does taking pride in my appearance somehow make my explanation of my ill health less legitimate?
Why the fuck did I essentially have to beg someone who worked at the tube station for help when I could barely move and he rolled his eyes until I produced two pieces of evidence that I am in fact disabled?
Why the fuck should I be made to feel bad or lazy because I’m not doing things that I said right from the beginning I wouldn’t be able to do?
Why the fuck should I be told “well that’s life” when I try and explain how I feel my life has…
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