Zebra on Wheels

Just a flexy person lovin' life in a chair. they/them Check out my art/shows/other sideblog: @the-fools-prince

[highladyluck]

Hello my beautiful human body! I’ve invited you here today to discuss adopting non-mucus-based solutions to common challenges—

[meirmakesstuff]

A guy at the gym just looked around, realized he was lifting the same weight as a "girl" in a wheelchair, pushed his weight up two notches, screamed once, and left.

[meirmakesstuff]

Like,

[meirmakesstuff]

This could have been avoided by keeping your eyes on your own workout,

This could have been avoided by realizing not all disabilities make people weaker--in fact, the opposite,

This could have been avoided by just being normal about things, man, I don't know what to tell you

[meirmakesstuff]

My wife (they/them) is the wheelchair user in this scenario. I was on standby because sometimes they lift so much weight they start to tip over.

[northirish]

I'm following blogs that haven't posted in like eight years but I don't care I shall never unfollow them because I am a true and loyal knight #loyalknight

[wizardarchetypes]

rural link bus this morning is just me & 8 very old men all speaking irish so i’m just getting bits of their convo but i’ve picked up that the one man in the wheelchair is actually on his first bus ride ever since getting it. it’s apparently his first time out with it and reactions are between deeply loving and taking the piss. another guy opened up a thermos of whiskey (10 am) and everyone started shouting at him but he said “it’s good for wheelchairs” and everyone started howlin and the guy in the chair said like “let’s have it then!” whiskey guy stood up to share, open thermos on a mountain curve and fell all the way to the front of the bus and didn’t spill a drop and he said “it’s good for balance too”

[wheresmyphonemp3]

my me hurts

[salvadorbonaparte]

I wish I could go to a doctor and just list every single symptom I ever experienced no matter how small and unconnected they seem and the doctor is nice and patient and knows everything and they nod and smile and explain that every symptom I ever experienced is connected to like one rare and often overlooked issue that's sooooo easy to fix with like. a pill. and then I never have to worry about anything ever again.

[melancholic-pigeon]

reblog to give prev a fUCKING BREAK in 2026

[mynorthernattitude]

they should make a sleep that feels like you’ve slept

[little-miss-rasputin-pageant]

having chronic pain is just like. ur sitting perfectly still doing nothing meanwhile the space above your head keeps flashing -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp -1hp

[stillfuckingtired]

Uh-oh, coming down with a case of “what-if-a-bunch-of-other-people-experience-these-symptoms-as-bad-as-I-do-but-they-suck-it-up-and-work-anyway-and-I’m-just-being-a-little-bitch”-itis

[carbomcoco]

"these researchers published a paper on something that literally any of us could have told you 🙄" ok well my supervisors wont let me write something in my thesis unless I can back it up with a citation so maybe it's a good thing that they're amplifying your voice to the scientific community in a way that prevents people from writing off your experiences as annecdotal evidence

[carbomcoco]

they did the research in the first place because they believed you and wanted to tell people about it. they are not our enemies.

[chronicillnesshumor-deactivated]

I don't think my body realizes how healthy my labs say I am

[joshpeck]

why do you and others like vaccines so much?

not dying of preventable diseases is actually one of my favorite hobbies

[houndmother]

i’m burning the candle at ends you’ve never heard of

[and-fishing-equipment]

daily affirmations:

i am kind

i am in control of my emotions

it does not bother me when someone is in the kitchen while i was planning to be in there alone

everyone in the house has the right to be in the kitchen

i am kind and in control of my emotions even when someone is in the kitchen while i was planning to be in there alone

[mortalityplays]

when I was a kid I read a sci-fi story where some researcher discovers that all crocodiles since prehistory have had the same congenital heart defect, so they set about curing it. when they do, suddenly their research specimen starts getting stronger and healthier and growing rapidly and developing new appendages, and it turns out all crocodilians were actually stunted sickly forms of dragons. that story really stuck with me because it's basically an expression of the "what if I went to the doctor and they discovered I was deficient in one special vitamin and then I took a pill and all my problems and ailments vanished immediately" fantasy.

unrelated, I started taking daily antihistamines this month for the first time in my life,

[watercolourcritters]

thirty-six

bday comics: thirty-three ; thirty-four ; thirty-five

AN: I have an acquired brain injury (referred to in this comic as a TBI, or traumatic brain injury), and tend to have emotions about it on my birthday. This is my fourth year of annual birthday comics reflecting on disability, my TBI journey, and life.

I had a full other comic planned, that was more focused on healing and life, but I sat down to draw it and went "I can't afford the time to do this" - and so instead y'all get a comic about the intersections of poverty and disability, and what it means for me as an artist. (Which I still didn't really have the time to draw, but did anyway.)

Instagram | Sticker Shop & Tip Jar

[ID copied from alt text: a 6-panel comic with text and simple line drawings. Each panel’s lines are a different colour.

One – Art of a chair and a table covered in art supplies. Text reads: “I can count the number of art projects I’ve done in the past six months that weren’t about making money on one hand.”

Two – Art of me, a chubby non-binary white person wearing shorts and a tank top. I lie on my bed with my hands cupped over my eyes. Text: And it’s beautiful, or it’s supposed to be, that I can do this for a living. Do what you love, and – well. We all know the saying. But mainly I’m just tired.

Three – I sit on the edge of my bed with my chin in my hand, looking weary. Text: Disability carries a massive financial impact. Can’t work a “real” job because of my TBI. Can’t make or sell enough art because of my TBI. Can’t rely on government disability alone, there’s no way in hell it will be enough.

Four – I pull out the chair at my art table, with a mug of tea in one hand. Text: It’s easy to call this burnout, but the bigger truth is that I’m disabled, and can’t afford to slow down like I need to. Finding balance is hard. It’s even harder when tipping the scales too far towards rest means being worried about rent.

Five – I sit at my art table, painting a small canvas. Text: I love what I do. And I value that this is work I can do; self-employment and art accommodates my TBI in a way little else does. But I miss making art just for me.

Six – art of an old, worn pair of boots. Text: I just want to be able to afford new boots, and let my creative side wander, without worrying about whether or not I can still pay my bills.

Maybe someday.

The last panel is signed hank graves, 2025. End ID.]