Here’s something you may not know about me. I’m really fucking insecure.
I’m not insecure enough to admit that I’m insecure, at least, but I’m really fucking insecure otherwise, yeah. I get jealous when my girlfriend talks to other, much prettier, and honestly much more interesting, girls than myself, and I constantly worry that the people I do allow myself to consider my friends aren’t really my friends and are only there out of pity. I guess this is the result of people hurting you your entire life. This is what you become, if you’re me anyway, and also really weak. I really don’t like this facet of myself, it causes me, and others, a great deal of pain, but here’s the thing…
…I can’t really stop it. Not in full. And I know what you’re saying, you’re saying “well now, that’s not very constructive of you! you gotta think positively! believe you can change and you can! all it takes is effort!” and you’re not wrong, buddy, but it’s not exactly that I lack conviction, goodness knows I’ve kept up with projects for years and for the last few years in particular I’ve been working on bettering myself in numerous ways, and I think I’ve done fairly well, thank you very much. But no, it’s not that I lack conviction. It’s that I lack literal brain power to do so. See, when I was born, my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck, and I didn’t breath for the first few moments of my life. This led to some brain damage, and I literally am incapable of learning certain things, knowing how to do certain simple things, and in some cases, bettering things.
And I know that this sounds like an excuse, but it isn’t. I’ve got a lifetime of experience to be able to prove how sincere I’m being about this situation. But what hurts even more than this reality is the fact that people do not take disabilities they cannot see seriously. I was on a bus last year and an older woman came onto the bus. I was sitting on the front bus seats, because it was cramped elsewhere and I was carrying a lot of bags (I believe I was bringing groceries home) and my back was killing me. When she didn’t have a place to sit, because the front was all filled up, I could feel people judging me silently. This isn’t fair. My father pushed me down the stairs as a little girl, and my back has never been the same since. I have been to chiropractors all my life. Sometimes my back gets so tweaked that I have to literally lay in bed for two or three days so that I can resume my life. I am disabled. Just because I am 30 doesn’t make me any less disabled. It doesn’t fucking go away with time. If anything, it gets WORSE.
Same thing with my brain. My brain and my back are damaged, and yet people continue to ignore these facts. Lots of people ignore them because they cannot see them, and that’s, while shitty, at least understandable. But what irks me most are the people I trust, the people I love, who cannot accept it, or refuse to, or DON’T BELIEVE ME. That shit hurts. Genuinely hurts. I am so sick of having everyone around me think I’m okay since I appear moderately functional. I don’t sit in a wheelchair and I can think rather soundly about a lot of things, and this apparently gives society carte blanche to feel that, just because I lack things they consider to be associated with disabilities, that I am not disabled. I AM. In more ways than one.
I am so tired of being judged by society for things I didn’t cause, that aren’t my fault, and that I cannot fix.
Yes, it’s manageable, but that doesn’t make it fixable. I wish people would learn this.
I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my feed over at Ello. You can also find epubs/books/stickers/prints over at my Payhip , or support my work monthly at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!