one day i will write a tma au where there's no supernatural stuff and jon is just visually impaired and records his statements on days when his sight is better so that on days when his sight is worse he can just listen to them instead of having to read them. martin starts recording the ones where the handwriting is a nightmare for jon to read to help out. eventually martin starts leaving cute messages at the end of them for jon to make him feel better because he knows that jon hates having to rely on an accessibility aid. neither of them ever acknowledge the messages ever.
There was one good thing about this lunch, and that was the fact that Alfred would have to dress him up for it. He'd help him put on his jacket, and put a watch on him, and brush the jacket off to make sure he was presentable. The watch pinched a little but he didn't mind. Alfred would always do things the same way, precisely and with purpose. Bruce liked just watching him lay out clothes or dust things. He did everything with the same care. It was the one thing that hadn’t changed.
Alfred waved him over and Bruce sat on the chair in front of him, watching Alfred in the mirror as he brushed his hair. He closed his eyes with a sigh as the brush went through his hair. The heavy brush on the top of his head made him feel better. Sometimes he would pretend it was his father’s hand, patting him on the head like he used to.
Mother and Father always used to pick him up and carry him around. Their hugs were crushing and made him feel whole again. He missed that. Maybe that’s why he felt so empty now.
This wasn’t the same. But it was still nice.
Alfred couldn't be around him all of the time, unless he was being a butler, or being a valet, because he had all the servants roles in the house. He was a chef and a chauffeur too. Alfred had too many jobs.
None of the jobs included hugging him.
But it did involve carrying him up sometimes, especially if he’d fallen asleep in the car. Or if he was refusing to go to school. It involved brushing his hair and his jackets, and holding his hand the few times they were outside of the house together and crossing the road.
As a servant Alfred's job was to take care of him. He was good at it. And sometimes it almost felt like love. Love and care were close enough, he supposed.
Alfred put the brush down and looked in the mirror with a hum. Bruce looked up at him and Alfred smiled.
“You look just like your father Master Bruce.” He said and Bruce sat up straighter.
“Now Master Bruce, is this the jacket you’d like to wear?” He asked and Bruce looked at it seriously before nodding.
“Yes Alfred.”
“Very well. Come here.” Bruce stood up, putting his arms through the jacket holes as Alfred put the jacket onto him. He brushed it off with the same care and precision and Bruce felt like he was almost ready to go to lunch.
Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment as he looked him over before nodding, approving of his work.
"There we are Master Bruce. You’re ready for your lunch now." He said and Bruce looked up at him happily.
“Thank you Alfred.”
So yeah. There was a good reason to go to luncheons.
Alfred walked with him to the dining room. Bruce peered in nervously and took a deep breath as Alfred squeezed his shoulder one last time before letting go as he guided him into the room. Every time he was at a party like this, it felt like jumping off the pier at the beach they all used to go to. One moment you were holding onto something and the next you were all alone, and just hoping you landed well.
Usually the dining room would be blindingly bright, like a splash of cold water to your face. But the lights were dim today. He sat in his chair and looked up at the blue guy who was talking to someone else.
There were a lot of other people there too. At least like ten. It was weird seeing the manor so loud. It wasn't even like this back when Mother and Father were. Well. Anyway.
Was this an event? Did he have to socialise? Or were these the blue and red guy’s friends? They must be cool to have this many friends.
He sat quietly, happy to listen to the others talking and laughing with each other. Maybe these people were nice. They seemed nice. He hoped they wouldn't ask him any questions because he wouldn’t know how to answer them. For the most part they left him alone, which he was grateful for. He wished he could participate but. Anyway.
The only bad thing was the plates. And the clinking and the chairs scraping as someone got up to get more food. (How is Alfred allowing this? It was chaos. Shouldn't he be serving everyone?) The cutlery being dropped on the table and dishes being moved around. Someone dropped a fork and he held onto his hair and closed his eyes. It was so much noise.
He heard Alfred's shoes coming to a stop beside him and stopped tapping his hands together. He knew he wasn't supposed to be like this around guests, but it made him feel better, and maybe if he made himself feel better he could stay around them all longer.
"Master Bruce." Alfred said disapprovingly and Bruce put his hands back in his lap. Alfred gave him one more look and he sat up straight. He'd be good.
But maybe he could rock back and forth. Just a little bit. And maybe also whistle. He was at the end of the table, no one would notice him. When Alfred wasn't looking he moved his hand in the air a bit too.
He could do this. He could make it. He could be around them. He could stick around until they left and the house went quiet again.
He didn't know if he preferred it that way or not. Maybe he would prefer if they stayed in the house. But quietly.
"Uh, you okay Bruce?" The red one asked and he sat up straight again. Darn. Now they knew he was weird. Alfred was right, he should try harder. He stuffed all the discomfort down deep in his chest and nodded, in a dignified way as he picked his cutlery up to eat his food. He could do this.
But then it changed.
It was like the air in the room got softer, instead of the sharp ringing with the noises of plates and knives. He looked around and noticed they were eating more carefully, talking in lower tones and laughing quietly. He could still feel the love in the air but it had softened at the edges to absorb all the sound. And it made it a space for him to be there too. They had just changed everything to include him, without even saying anything. Without him even having to ask. He looked down at his plate with tears in his eyes.
He really liked these people.
Cass glanced at him and smiled at Dick who smiled back at her. They would make sure things worked out after all.
She signed something at Bruce and he frowned. Oh. Right. Her father didn't know sign language yet. She sighed and looked up again as he put down his fork and knife and clumsily signed something back to her.
"It’s nice to meet you dear." She tiled her head at him and he shrugged.
"Mother and Father had been taking me to fundraisers for schools for Deaf and hard of hearing people. I don't understand what they're saying all the time but that's what the people there told me." He said and she closed her eyes trying not to smile.
He looked at Dick and signed "You're a polite young man". and Dick tried not to laugh.
"Got anything for me?" Jason joked and Bruce thought for a long time before signing.
"Your parents must be proud of you."
Jason was not tearing up at the dinner table. He wasn't. Alfred just, couldn't reach everywhere to dust that's all.
"Did I say something wrong." Bruce asked slightly concerned and Dick shook his head.
"No." Dick said and he translated what Bruce had said.
"Oh. Yeah no I kind of knew what that one meant." Bruce said giving Jason a quiet smile and Jason felt like he would need to get some more pie from the kitchen, now. And then spend at least five minutes in there. Because of the dust.
Disrespectfully if you say "i have/i know someone who has [disorder] and I can/they can still do [activity]" you have not learned ANYTHING about how the body actually works. Nor have you learned how illness (of any type) works.
An acquaintance of mine got a cane but mentioned how they didn't want to use other mobility devices, like crutches or wheelchairs, because "people will treat you like you're Disabled". Pissed me off. As a cane and rollator user, I get weird looks and questions. I am treated like I'm Disabled because I AM.
"People will treat you like your Disabled" FUCK OFF Some people don't get to choose a mobility device to be seen as more able-bodied. Some people have visible differences and are always seen as disabled and different and THEY CANT CHANGE THAT. "People treat you like you're disabled" Yeah cause ableism is pervasive and constant if you use a mobility device or have a visible difference sorry to hear that you're so against being lumped in with other disabled folks that you can't stand using other mobility devices even though they'd help you.
people HAVE to start getting over their internalized ableism before they interact with other disabled folks istg
not really vent worthy but i hate having to fucking specify when i just ‘dislike’ something or when i ‘autistically dislike’ something.
like, how else do i explain to someone that thinking about this thing and doing this thing will cause a meltdown. especially when it’s a stupid little thing that would not cause any normal person to start freaking crying.
for example, i had a meltdown today because we played fucking head down thumbs up in per arts. yk, that stupid ass game where you have to put your head on the table and your thumbs up, and if someone taps your thumb you have to put it down and guess who did it. yeah. that game. which most people played in fucking primary when they were seven years old.
and i knew i was going to freak out over it too, could feel that it was something i did not want to do - as in, stamping my feet, non-verbal, no eye-contact did not want to. but when i tried to articulate that to my friend (not that he could’ve done anything to help at that time) i couldn’t figure out how to say it beyond repeating i don’t like this over and over again. because who the fuck wants to tell someone ‘i don’t like this in an autistic and meltdown-y way’? you just sound like a fucking brat, or someone who is trying to use their diagnosis to get out of shit that they don’t want to do. especially when i can’t even give any proper reasons as to why i don’t want to do this thing - how do you say to someone “hey, i have no idea why i hate this simple game so much, but i do know it’s going to make me cry and throw a tantrum”? i just feel so fucking stupid and like a small child, i hate it so fucking much.
i’m fucking sixteen years old, i shouldn’t be having breakdowns over being forced to do shit i don’t want to do. that shit’s fucking childish. and when i do it in front of other, actually functional sixteen-year-olds? how do you come back from that shit, how do you show that you’re not just a neurotic autistic freak; that you’re the same as any teenager. the answer is, you fucking don’t. you’re forever gonna be ‘the autistic kid’, the one who always has their headphones on and gets taken out of class by the teachers and given special fucking treatment and cries because of fucking heads down thumbs up.
i know i complain a shit ton about being neurodivergent, but it’s just so fucking shitty all of the time. shitty because i am expected to just deal with it and move on, and shitty because i don’t have the words to explain to people what i’m feeling or why i’m feeling it. i believe i’m fairly high-functioning in general, which has the added perk of everyone believing i’m fine; that i don’t need any special assistance. and hey, maybe i don’t. maybe it’s just fucking normal to feel this anxious and this stressed every single day. but then again, maybe it’s not. maybe i’d like someone there to help me regulate, someone to check in so that i can have a reset when being overwhelmed. maybe i don’t want to get home from school and immediately put my sleep clothes on, spend my whole fucking day counting the hours, minutes, seconds until i can go home and fucking rest. maybe i just want to feel fucking normal for longer than a few days for once. maybe i just want real, tangible things that can help, instead of fictional characters and my own repetitive thoughts. i don’t want to feel this way for the rest of my life - i don’t want to be stressed anymore.
Sometimes I see cisdisabled anti-transabled people say stuff like "they [transabled people] wanna be us [cisdisabled people]?! WHY would anyone WANT to be like us?!" And as a cisdisabled person, that's just... so sad.
I love being disabled. I love the disabled community, frankly I love being 'different' (gives me an ego boost lol), and I just love myself - including my disabilities.
I can't imagine how horribly sad it must be to not be able to think of a single reason someone would want to be or like being disabled. That must be so depressing.
It's just so upsetting to see other disabled people hate that part of themselves so much.
Interalized ableism bpd culture is hating other pwbpd (and myself) for genuinely bad takes and then pinpointing it at ‘omg we’re too emotional its our disorders fault’ when we can also control our own actions
my head hurts bc of thinking of this and hate reading/hate watching stupid takes unrelated to disorder and then blaming it on the person’s bpd for the past weeks
hi its uhhhhh research to i think i have bpd pipeline person here. idk how else to identify myself because i dont feel comfortable making myself public.
ive been intending to do more research into bpd but its like. hard and not because its hard to find resources, i found stuff on youtube, but its hard to sit down and watch it because its not entertaining enough to put my full attention on, so my mind was wandering and then i wasnt taking in information. and i dont know what to do sob. i only actually watched one video bc i know that other videos are going to be boring to me and that im not going to take in information bc i cant focus.
it was a video about what it was like living w quiet bpd and from the little i remember i was like “yep. sounds like me.” (even tho for the most part i literally cannot remember the video) and when i look at the 9 symptoms, theres 4 i can confidently say i experience, and 4 others that are a maybe, but my memory is shit so i can’t accurately tell by myself which of those symptoms i actually experience.
everytime i think abt having bpd i get upset, but i cant tell if its coming from the root of ableism(?) that me being upset about having disorders usually comes from (wanting to be “normal”) or if its coming from the root of ableism that was people with bpd/npd are inherently bad
i also think i have a favourite person. by think i mean putting the pieces together from other people talking about their favourite people from asks you answer made me realize “oh so thats why im so infatuated by this person and it’s not just being closer to them than my other friends”
Hey! I also find it incredibly difficult to sit through informative videos, so you're not alone there. There's also the issue of "am I going to sit through this entire video just to figure out that it's rooted in ableism" that stops me from getting through them. I prefer written stuff!
When it comes to the internalised ableism (also completely valid, that's not just a personality disorder issue), it could very well be a combination of both. Not only does this mean you're not "normal" anymore, but the disorder that's causing it is something that is often considered inherently bad. That can be a scary realisation to make.
I feel like i've said this before, but you don't need to rush into it. You could be struggling so much with doing research and absorbing information on the subject because your brain has yet to accept that it's okay. This can take time, and the best thing you can do if that's the case is to take a step back from the overwhelming amount of information there is to take in and work on breaking that pattern of thinking, however hard it may be.
Try positive affirmations with yourself. If you happen to recognise a particular kind of behaviour that stems from your BPD, acknowledge that, tell yourself that it's okay and move on. Think about what you'd say to another person who was struggling with the things you're experiencing. Just be kind to yourself.
Don't force yourself to do something that you're not ready for. In the end, it will only make you resent the possibility of having BPD even more and that is far less constructive.
I hope this helps, but also please don't fret if it doesn't or hesitate to tell me that i'm just rambling for no reason/you're not looking for advice. I won't be offended /gen /nm /lh
