every discussion
every essay, every poem
every scrap and morsel of language
i search for her
the one who CAN
the one who rides her scooter feeling like a fraud
because she gets up and walks
the one who knows her crutches
could be tossed away
and for the most part,
she'd be okay
but just okay
the one who can pass
can do everything
who knows she'll
most likely never end up institutionalized
doesn't have to rely on anyone else
the one who gets struck down with deceiving labels like "mild"
who could so easily distance herself
if she wanted to
the one who hears ringing accusations in her ears
"you're a faker!"
"you're not really disabled!"
"oh you are, but not like them!
not like those poor broken people!"
and she's afraid that if she listens to them enough
she might start to believe them
i search for her
because in finding her, i will have found myself
"When they all make you feel like a problem girl, remember, you're no problem at all." Rob Thomas, Problem Girl
Monday, August 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
CP in a Jar
Inspired by A Jar of Autism.
What would it be like if I could scoop my CP up and put it in a jar like that little blue flame that Hermione jars in Harry Potter? It would be a fairly high commodity, I would think. After all, if you bought CP In A Jar, you would get all those “special” accommodations, like being able to type all your notes and being able to leave class five minutes early - a whole five minutes of NO CLASS! Of course, that’s assuming that you would even be able to get those accommodations, after doctors and therapists and everyone and their mother have said that yes, you do actually NEED those accommodations, only then will they relinquish them. And the doctors take forever to get back to you too, and none of them actually know anything about cerebral palsy, so you end up writing the entire letter yourself and having the doctor stick his/her signature on it. And even after you get those coveted accommodations, after you’ve struggled and cried for so many years trying to get them, there will still be people who tell you you don’t need them. Some of those people will be the very people who are supposed to help you. Do me a favor and direct those people to me. I’ll sell them CP in a Jar, so that they can know what it’s like.
And if you got CP in a Jar, then you could get one of those AWESOME wheelchairs (like a car!) and go, like, a million miles an hour (when in actuality it’s only 4.5 - I know, I’ve looked it up), and SIT ALL THE TIME. And all those unfortunate people who don’t have CP in a Jar will say “I wish I could sit all the time!” That is, of course, assuming insurance will cover the cost of a wheelchair, assuming the powers that be think your wheelchair is “medically necessary”. Never mind that the powers that be have never actually MET you and have absolutely no idea what YOUR life is like.
You’ll get your muscles surgically altered as a toddler (and become some sort of freaky superhero!). And you can whine and moan and bitch about how awful your life is and you’ll get all the attention for being such a special snowflake. You’ll fall on your face and everyone will rush to your aid like a knight in shining armor (or just step on you like floor pizza). People will wipe away a tear proclaiming how inspirational and courageous you are when you’re just trying to buy your food like everyone else. You might even get money, just for being your very special self and out of the goodness of the hearts of people who are so much more fortunate than you are.
But you have to be careful not to overdose on CP in a Jar. Of course, you wouldn’t want to become one of those people. Those people who have all those absurd needs. Those people who are always taking away from the normal people, greedy gophers that they are. They think they’re so entitled. Why are we giving them all those special programs and benefits? It’s not like they’re ever going to get a real job. Maybe work at McDonalds, if they’re lucky. God forbid, you ever became one of those drooling, gibbering idiots! And what if you were *whisper* retarded?? That would be so awful. The poor things, they must be so sad. No, you wouldn’t want to be one of them. But just a little bit, just a pinch of CP in a Jar, that would be nice.
*side effects may include intense muscle spasms, chronic pain, people assuming you’re drunk, and the feeling that you’re generally a broken, worthless human being, among others
What would it be like if I could scoop my CP up and put it in a jar like that little blue flame that Hermione jars in Harry Potter? It would be a fairly high commodity, I would think. After all, if you bought CP In A Jar, you would get all those “special” accommodations, like being able to type all your notes and being able to leave class five minutes early - a whole five minutes of NO CLASS! Of course, that’s assuming that you would even be able to get those accommodations, after doctors and therapists and everyone and their mother have said that yes, you do actually NEED those accommodations, only then will they relinquish them. And the doctors take forever to get back to you too, and none of them actually know anything about cerebral palsy, so you end up writing the entire letter yourself and having the doctor stick his/her signature on it. And even after you get those coveted accommodations, after you’ve struggled and cried for so many years trying to get them, there will still be people who tell you you don’t need them. Some of those people will be the very people who are supposed to help you. Do me a favor and direct those people to me. I’ll sell them CP in a Jar, so that they can know what it’s like.
And if you got CP in a Jar, then you could get one of those AWESOME wheelchairs (like a car!) and go, like, a million miles an hour (when in actuality it’s only 4.5 - I know, I’ve looked it up), and SIT ALL THE TIME. And all those unfortunate people who don’t have CP in a Jar will say “I wish I could sit all the time!” That is, of course, assuming insurance will cover the cost of a wheelchair, assuming the powers that be think your wheelchair is “medically necessary”. Never mind that the powers that be have never actually MET you and have absolutely no idea what YOUR life is like.
You’ll get your muscles surgically altered as a toddler (and become some sort of freaky superhero!). And you can whine and moan and bitch about how awful your life is and you’ll get all the attention for being such a special snowflake. You’ll fall on your face and everyone will rush to your aid like a knight in shining armor (or just step on you like floor pizza). People will wipe away a tear proclaiming how inspirational and courageous you are when you’re just trying to buy your food like everyone else. You might even get money, just for being your very special self and out of the goodness of the hearts of people who are so much more fortunate than you are.
But you have to be careful not to overdose on CP in a Jar. Of course, you wouldn’t want to become one of those people. Those people who have all those absurd needs. Those people who are always taking away from the normal people, greedy gophers that they are. They think they’re so entitled. Why are we giving them all those special programs and benefits? It’s not like they’re ever going to get a real job. Maybe work at McDonalds, if they’re lucky. God forbid, you ever became one of those drooling, gibbering idiots! And what if you were *whisper* retarded?? That would be so awful. The poor things, they must be so sad. No, you wouldn’t want to be one of them. But just a little bit, just a pinch of CP in a Jar, that would be nice.
*side effects may include intense muscle spasms, chronic pain, people assuming you’re drunk, and the feeling that you’re generally a broken, worthless human being, among others