The Inner Dialogue

A disabled activist I follow on twitter, Imani Barbarin (@crutches_and_spice) tweeted one of the most “make you think” posts I’ve ever seen on twitter, and it really resonated with me. Matter of fact, she posted it in mid-December, and I’m just now started to really get my thoughts together on it, and applying it to my internal struggles with being disabled. I’d like to share it with you.

“Ableism doesn’t go away when you become disabled, it just becomes your inner dialogue.”

This stuck with me. I have always thought one of the biggest problems with being disabled was the general lack of understanding of the abled bodied community. I would find it slightly hypocritical to totally fault them for it. I had many of the same misconceptions as they do. After becoming disabled, I applied those same stereotypes to myself. I berated myself for “giving in” and “being weak”, and all sorts of stuff. I came to realize that I wasn’t “giving in” to my disease, but that I was adjusting to live my life to the fullest.

Sad to say, however….that inner dialogue doesn’t ever fully go away.

Several years ago I was forced to drop out of graduate school during a bad patch with my health. My first semester I made a C and a B, because my body went nuts. I couldn’t focus on classes, I missed because I couldn’t walk. Stress got to me. I lost financial aide for my second semester. During the course of writing an appeal letter, I was told that I had to include a section on how I planned to succeed with my disabilities. I was utterly humiliated. I had two degrees, both of which I graduated with honors. Despite past successes, I was suddenly a danger to have around, because disability caused me to “fail” one semester. I wrote the letter. I’d like to tell you that I stood strong and defended myself to the college. I’d like to tell you that I told them how wrong they were. If I told you that…I’d be lying through my teeth. My inner dialogue told me that the college was absolutely correct. I deserved what I got, and I did have to justify my existence in this highly competitive atmosphere that I was clearly having trouble keeping up in. I apologized for my weakness and begged for a place with all those good abled-bodied students. Not a few months later, my kidneys went crazy and I dropped out of school until I could get healthier.

I fought with this “inner dialogue” the entire time I was out of school. I cried the day I should have graduated with my Master’s degree, convinced that I could never go back and finish. It’s been my goal to get my doctorate for so long that it tore me up. I kept thinking that I “failed out” instead of took a break. I was absolutely convinced that my “break” would be permanent, because I wasn’t strong enough to do it. It didn’t help when my doctor told me that stress probably caused my body to release steroids, which as a diabetic isn’t exactly healthy for the kidneys. (After I left, my kidneys started recovering nicely, and are currently in good working order.)

I came back last semester, and just took one class to see how it went. I made an A. My GPA was up to a 3.0 again, a solid B. I applied for financial aide again this semester…..and got denied. Despite my B GPA and 99.8 grade in my class, I’m still not a very safe bet. After all, I have officially failed at more than half of the classes I have attempted. The college wants another appeal letter, although they didn’t add in the part about disability this time. They didn’t get it. This time, with my husband’s full support, we emptied out our savings to pay tuition out of pocket. I’m not apologizing for my existence again.

I’m taking two classes this semester, one of which is a retake of the C from earlier. I’m going to be honest…that inner ableism dialogue is still going. I’m more than terrified of this class, and the geometry that isn’t exactly my strongest subject. It started from the time I got word that they were denying me again. It’s going to take a couple more semesters for me to be automatically approved, despite my GPA. I refuse to write that letter again. If I make good grades this time out, I’ll write one, but it won’t be an apology. I’m really sick of this inner dialogue.

I don’t owe anyone an apology.