I Am Me

Today has been what my friends and I describe as one of my raggy doll days, and that in combination with some of the posts I've read recently over at the excellent Chewing the Fat has been making me think more about the language we use all the time, specifically though in relation to disability.

The title of my blog should be some indication to the way I view language, it is of course as EmmaK asked so early on in part ironic, but is also largely to do with the attitude I have towards negative language, that somehow, some part of me feels it vital to challenge all those negativities and make words usually considered to be shocking or derogatory insults into comfortable every day terms.

I am a cripple, a spaz, a spacker, a gimp, a muppet, a bendy freak, a genetic throwback, a raggy doll. I am a pixie, a gorgeous blonde, a sex kitten, a cherub with a devil's mind, a bendy girl, a bit of a hippie chick, an incisive mind. I am me.

What I am not and never will be is disabled. Sigh. Dis abled. Dis abled. Disconnected. Displaced. Disintegrated. DISTANT. I hate the word disabled. So why would I want to willingly use it about myself let alone every chose to think about myself that way? Don't get me wrong, if the situation demands it, I will use the D word to describe myself, have used it on this blog, but I hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I only use it to enable other people. To give them something to understand. But it is not and never will be a term I would chose to use for myself. But those other words, words used to cause offence, still I know able to cause such offence for so many, they, they are the words I choose to describe myself. These are words with power to them, not the negative and to me oh so whiny preposition dis disabling by its very nature for any of these words, no these words have bite, they are good strong, colourful words to describe myself with. I am a cripple when in pain I struggle to walk, a spaz or a spacker for my clumsiness, my sheer inability to co-ordinate, a muppet for my daftness, my ability to forget or lose things at the drop of a hat, a raggy doll when I laugh and my muscles lose the ability to hold me up, causing me to drop to the floor in a hopeless helpless heap of giggles, a gimp when I am covered in bandages, a genetic throwback my whimsical wander back to times when humans were dead by the age of 30 and perhaps such unusual bodies those we with EDS have were of some evolutionary advantage, the bendy freak bit should be obvious by now. Really.

Not a single one of those words has any power to hurt me. I live in a world of sick warped humour, and it's a good place to be.

Originally posted here