its disability pride month and i guess im just now realizing how "disabled" i really am. like between the circulation issues i have are in fact real and wont go away by "just leaving the house more often" (thanks for ignoring me my whole life doctor) and figuring out the DID thing and all the amnesia and conflicts of interest i/we have, as well as just sorta dealing with realizing just how badly our shitty childhood fucked us up and yk just in general remembering and realizing how bad it really was as a kid its just like. i cant fucking do anything. like i think the main thing keeping me from being in general like. functional. is being unable to stand for any prolonged period of time, but the dissociative amnesia is also really fucking w me/us. i think its getting worse but i cant really tell. like we cant even fucking eat properly because the majority of our life we didnt have proper access to food let alone stuff that was safe for our arfid and autism so our appetite is fucking nothing constantly and we cant eat meals in one sitting we have to nibble on it for like six hours. we eat next to nothing and mostly live off of snacks sometimes its fucking days between actual food. no one really treats eating as something you have to learn but we were never fucking taught and dont know how to get better.
and its just like. what bothers me the most is that like 90% of my disabilities are directly caused by my parents. like id still have the physical stuff n depression n anxiety n probably bipolar, but all of it coulda been handled a lot better and not fucking ignored to the point where my life was consistently in danger, and like if they did any sort of not horrible job i wouldnt have to deal with the cptsd or bpd and maybe ocd my thought patterns are irrevocably fucked i literally cant think without spiraling or obsession-compulsion ing or daydreaming it wouldnt be like this. its worse than useless its probably harming me tbh to imagine what could have been, the person or people i/we wouldve been and whatever without the trauma i know that
i just. find it so fucking hard to be any sort of proud of something that im still so fucking mad about. im proud that we survived but its so fucking hard to feel anything but rage because it was all so fucking preventable and it cripples me to this day like i need a fucking job i need cash living isnt free here but i cant i fucking cant because of a physical disability thats been ignored and denied for a third of my fucking life and a bunch of trauma that didnt have to happen none of it had to fucking happen it was so preventable. if my parents had just fucking not had kids when they were utterly unprepared and unstable financially and emotionally if they knew like anything about children and their needs at all. it wouldve been really easy to just not but my father is a greedy fuck and a eugenicist fucking freak who was obsessed with producing offspring as fast as possible with whichever random woman he decided had "good genes" and could tolerate him for long enough to make that happen. it was all so fucking unnecessary and like yeah obviously all abuse is unnecessary and im talking in circles but it just makes me so fucking mad. so its mixed i guess. what matters is we survived and we're still living, and im proud enough of that because it was fucking hard
