#tw internalised ableism
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hi its uhhhhh research to i think i have bpd pipeline person here. idk how else to identify myself because i dont feel comfortable making myself public.
ive been intending to do more research into bpd but its like. hard and not because its hard to find resources, i found stuff on youtube, but its hard to sit down and watch it because its not entertaining enough to put my full attention on, so my mind was wandering and then i wasnt taking in information. and i dont know what to do sob. i only actually watched one video bc i know that other videos are going to be boring to me and that im not going to take in information bc i cant focus.
it was a video about what it was like living w quiet bpd and from the little i remember i was like “yep. sounds like me.” (even tho for the most part i literally cannot remember the video) and when i look at the 9 symptoms, theres 4 i can confidently say i experience, and 4 others that are a maybe, but my memory is shit so i can’t accurately tell by myself which of those symptoms i actually experience.
everytime i think abt having bpd i get upset, but i cant tell if its coming from the root of ableism(?) that me being upset about having disorders usually comes from (wanting to be “normal”) or if its coming from the root of ableism that was people with bpd/npd are inherently bad
i also think i have a favourite person. by think i mean putting the pieces together from other people talking about their favourite people from asks you answer made me realize “oh so thats why im so infatuated by this person and it’s not just being closer to them than my other friends”
Hey! I also find it incredibly difficult to sit through informative videos, so you're not alone there. There's also the issue of "am I going to sit through this entire video just to figure out that it's rooted in ableism" that stops me from getting through them. I prefer written stuff!
When it comes to the internalised ableism (also completely valid, that's not just a personality disorder issue), it could very well be a combination of both. Not only does this mean you're not "normal" anymore, but the disorder that's causing it is something that is often considered inherently bad. That can be a scary realisation to make.
I feel like i've said this before, but you don't need to rush into it. You could be struggling so much with doing research and absorbing information on the subject because your brain has yet to accept that it's okay. This can take time, and the best thing you can do if that's the case is to take a step back from the overwhelming amount of information there is to take in and work on breaking that pattern of thinking, however hard it may be.
Try positive affirmations with yourself. If you happen to recognise a particular kind of behaviour that stems from your BPD, acknowledge that, tell yourself that it's okay and move on. Think about what you'd say to another person who was struggling with the things you're experiencing. Just be kind to yourself.
Don't force yourself to do something that you're not ready for. In the end, it will only make you resent the possibility of having BPD even more and that is far less constructive.
I hope this helps, but also please don't fret if it doesn't or hesitate to tell me that i'm just rambling for no reason/you're not looking for advice. I won't be offended /gen /nm /lh
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"There's no shame in asking for help." for the whump prompts!!
You get the old Owl House AU, enjoy. There isn’t really anything SUPER dark in this, it’s all in the implications babey!
TW: Forced family dynamics, abuse, referenced murder, internalised ableism, implied physical harm to a young child, manipulation
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“Papa?”
The word still felt wrong on Luz's tongue to say about the Emperor, but after two-and-a-half years she'd learnt better than to ask questions. And, after all, Belos had taken her in through the kindness of his own heart, hadn't he? It was only fair to play along, even if she missed her real Mom and Dad. It’s not like there was some magic portal back home- no, this was her home now, and she should accept that.
(Besides, Luz was a big girl now. She was very nearly nine, even, and she knew of the Emperor's brutality towards any dissidents. She'd seen it, hiding in the little-known corners of the castle and watching when no one knew she was around, and it played in her memories like a video on loop. She'd seen Hunter die, she’d seen the blood, and even if she hadn’t, she knew something was up when her cool magic big kid friend who was so grown up and mature was suddenly replaced with a boy barely older than she was bearing the same name and face. Who's to say next wouldn’t be her?)
Belos smiled, dull blue eyes lacking any spark settling down on her. Around him, Luz always felt so small, even if she was a big girl and she was learning how to fight the bad guys. “Yes, Luz?”
“I was reading about the history of the Isles, like you asked,” Luz babbled, pulling on the too-long ends of her curls and her dress, ”and I know this is probably stupid, and I shouldn’t take time out of your day to ask, but-“
Belos chuckled, no malice in his tone. Still, it set Luz on edge a bit, even though she knew he was the good guy. He had to be brutal, but he was the good guy. He had to be. “There's no shame in asking for help, Luz. You know, I took you in for a reason. The Titan wouldn’t have brought you here without one, you know, and who am I to deny what it provides?”
Luz grinned ear to ear. “You mean… I'm special?” The idea of being anything but plain old Luz, seeming so out of sorts both on Earth and stuck in the castle… it would explain why anyone ever cared. She must have some important job to do.
Belos only smiled wider. “What part were you struggling with?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah.” Luz laughed nervously. Forgetting things usually got her in trouble, and Belos could be… harsh. “Well, uh, I was reading about the Savage Ages, and… I don't understand exactly the differences between wild magic and, uh, the non wild magic, I guess? It’s just- I'm not trying to defend it, of course, but-“
“You're not in trouble for not understanding something, Luz. You've seen my curse, haven’t you?”
Luz absently touched the cut on her cheek. “Yes, papa.”
“That’s something that can’t happen in the covens, now. I don’t want anyone to go through what I did.” Belos sighed. “Now, would you like me to go over the passages with you? I wouldn’t mind.”
Luz excitedly bounced on her toes. “Yesyesyesyesyes! Uh, I mean, yes please.” Whenever someone actually explained things to her, she always understood it a lot more, and if there was anything she wanted here it was understanding. It felt like she was being intentionally left in the dark far too much, and it bugged her, even though she knew it must be for a reason. Everything had to be for a reason.
Right?
#the owl house#the owl house au#tw forced family dynamics#tw abuse#tw referenced murder#tw internalised ableism#Tw implied child harm#Tw manipulation#what do I call this au like#luz wittebane au#Or something
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TW: INTERNALISED ABLEISM
I love autism positivity and i love how on the internet I can have my own community with other autistic people.
However, I sometimes wish I was neurotypical, I cannot deal with the feeling of constantly being an alien in real life. I constantly feel alone and uncomfortable in every space. I wish I could just fit in with everyone
#tw internalized ableism#tw internalised ableism#btw this is proof that anyone that says how everyone is autistic now days doesnt go outside#where do you find all these autistic people i know like 2#personal rant#autism#autistic mood
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D - Director - How much do they feel the need to have control over their life? Do they spend a lot of time telling others what to do or and they more likely to be more obedient to others?
Even before getting stuck in the mirror, the DA never felt as though they had much choice in their life’s direction. Being born with a condition like theirs in the time they lived... It was unkind. Little was expected of them, and even less was given to them. For a time, they tried to fight it, but after so long in a world that insisted they were broken and wrong... Well. Eventually you start believing it.
They learnt to go along with what those around them wanted. It was easier to be swept away with the waves of public opinion than risk any extra admonishing by daring to be even more different.
And then they met someone who insisted it didn’t have to be that way. That they could be different and not feel as if it meant they were broken or worthless. Just having support, knowing there was someone who believed in them, who saw the world as unfair and dared to want to change it... It was inspiring. Maybe they were right.
Maybe life was theirs to choose.
They still didn’t rock the boat for no reason. But they started to hope for better things, for a position they could be proud of, for something that could mean something in the grander scheme of things. To help make the world a better place.
They don’t have any such dreams now.
They’re little more than words on a page now. A role to be played. A supporting character to help someone else shine ever brighter and brighter until their brilliant light can burn the eyes of all who dare to look. They don’t ask questions because they don’t have any. They simply accept the prompt they’re given.
After all, it’s only polite to “yes, and” when you’re acting, right?
#; through the glass (asks)#; distant echoes (hc)#SQUINTS AT U))#U CHOSE THIS CAREFULLY HUH))#; anonymous#tw ableism#tw negative self talk#tw internalised ableism#as always let me know if u would like it tagged something else!!))#also obvious reference to Damien and actor))
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i try to be chill and unbothered about it but fuck i wish i wasnt autistic, i dont usually, im fine with it i've come to terms with it already, its fine, but god its so hard never knowing whats going on around me. are you mad at me? are you tired? are you sick? have you finally had enough of putting up with me? it just makes everything so much harder. im sorry, i hate it. i cant even blame my father, i hate me too.
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Why are you putting landmines in the X alley. No wonder your ocs are crying, why would you do that /silly
They deserve that for being silly that's why /j
Okay I know this is a slash silly ask but let me rant about the background for that name, because it's actually pretty interesting!
地雷 (Jirai) is a literal landmine but it's also used in an indirect way to mean something that is a "trigger" for someone, a "taboo" thing or word or otherwise; something dangerous. This goes into the group's general effort to portray themselves as not someone to mess with; the motivation behind the name is similar to Bad Dog's naming, except, like, worse. They're also a street singer unit (albeit not connected with Vivid Street), so they're leaning into that "danger" mindset a lot - in sharp contrast to VBS, whose community isn't so nice while and most of the VBS "bad guys" reputation is subverted... Jirai-CRY isn't.
However, "地雷" is also used to refer to "mentally unstable" individuals, mainly girls, mainly in relationships, roughly speaking. There's a lot of ugly things hidden behind it so I need to clarify I don't necessarily use it in that meaning, but the characters themselves definitely do know it and how their unit name will be perceived, and it reflects onto how they see themselves.
Also, the term is connected to Jirai Kei fashion type and subculture. Definitely an interesting thing to look into!
#jay rambles.txt#jay gets asks.txt#ableism tw#a lot of my ocs deal with mental and physical illnesses/disabilities so I think you should be vary of internalised ableism in their stories#like in general. as a constant thing
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every so often I'm reminded of things I can't cope with that Normal People Can. (like the way the music I'm listening to splits between headphones in stereo, I can't deal with listening to it other than through computer speakers.) I cannot and likely never will be able to cope with a great many things. rightly or wrongly, when I remember these things it's easier to rationalise to myself why I should die.
#personal#tw suicide#puddleglum hours#internalised ableism? absolutely. good? no. fact? yes#am i sadposting more bc this burn hurts like the very devil tonight despite it being nine days since i did it? why yes#have i been consciously keeping the sadposting off here recently because i don't want people to overreact and call the police on me again?#also yes!#we're doing brilliantly babes <3
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I feel like I’m an ugly burden bc I’m disabled and require assistance to live and I need mobility aid
♿️anon
.
#anon#anon confession#anonymous#disability#disabled#disabled community#confession#ableism#ableist language cw#tw ableist language#internalised ableism#beauty standards#body posititivity#bopo#body positive
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IN OTHER NEWS. GUESS WHO’S GETTING A WHEELCHAIR
#holy shit????????#i. did not think this was gonna happen#im trying not to let internalised ableism win out about this because it would help! i know it would help!#disability#my post#caps tw#also the stipulation was that i had to go to therapy (reasons unrelated to the wheelchair) which is a little funny
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'adhd is a superpower!! it's not a disability!!' like shut up!!! sure, i wouldn't be the same person without it because it has shown me what good things i've done with it. but it IS a disability!!! it is a disability!! do you know how many things i don't get done and the meltdowns i have??? and i didn't go through school being bullied for undiagnosed neurodivergent traits to be told 'it's not disabling!!'. i sure had enough of a bad time in education without getting constant shit for being too emotional or daydreamy or interrupting or not being aware of social cues or not getting sarcasm or being super passionate about interests that often lasted like, a week or so. do you know much grief i would've saved in later life if that was even one aspect of my trauma that didn't make everything so fucking difficult???
#often i forget just how terrible i was made to feel for years for a lot of things#especially when it's a passing conversation or joke#because one day something triggers it all and i just start crying#fuck all those people that ever hurt me#yes even those fucking boys at school#i internalised so much self-blame growing up and getting older because of freaks like them#vent#rant#ableism tw#bullying tw#abuse tw#neurodivergence#personal#mental illness
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what is an angel, without a god?
a being made to serve, to spread the dominion and will of their god. more an arm than a servant, yet awake and aware, the beloved right hands of their divinity. to be an angel is to be bathed in more holy adoration than mere mortals could ever understand.
tommy knows this. he sees it in philza’s eyes, whenever he talks about his mistress, his goddess, his wife, his other half. how he smiles when the wind caresses him, like the mere act of existence is a loving embrace. he smiles often and easily, and the name kristin always seems to be on his tongue, resting there and radiating a warmth that animates him. tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen phil without the confidence that knowing you are fulfilling your duties by existing, the joy of knowing ones purpose and accepting it fully. he didn’t have to figure out shit. he was made to serve kristin, and that purpose was something he’d never question.
it was never so easy, for tommy.
he had no creator to speak of but the cold cruel hand of man, after all. he never knew that all encompassing divine light, any sense of purpose, just white walls and bright lights and needles and pain. whatever purpose that they had, trying to create life in such a manner, was a mystery to him. all he knew was that it hurt and it was cold and he’d ran as soon as his little legs could carry him.
and there was an emptiness, there. some hole in tommy’s soul he could feel rotting away at the rest of him. he was made to serve, yet he had no one to turn to. he was a tool without purpose, created by amateurs, fundamentally flawed to the point of uselessness. his wings tiny and malformed, ugly and twisted under the thick layer of glossy black feathers. his halo was more like a void than a light, a thin circle of nothing that shattered easily and barely even emitted a soft orange flickering glow. an useless prototype, taking up space.
he’d tried to fill that hole in so many ways. he’d took up the worship of church prime with fervour, praying desperately maybe the gods would take pity upon him and take him in, and even though of course that didn’t happen having a divine will to follow soothed him, left him able to calm his racing mind with ritual and obedience. he’d made friends, and resolved himself into carrying out their will too, because they were better than any stupid god and they deserved that much, but apparently that was ““fucking creepy”” so he resolved to doing it just a little bit, in ways he could use to quell the sickening emptiness enough without driving away all he had.
(and of course, he wasn’t some fucking pussy. the rules of man and mortals meant nothing to him. he wasn’t some simpering little sidekick, ready to fucking kneel at the feet of anyone who’d listen. but of course, neither was phil. he was independent and strong, like tommy was, but he was also whole in a way he wasn’t. he fulfilled a purpose.)
and- as much as he hated to admit it- the taste he’d had of finally being like that? being a servant to a divine will? it was so fucking hard to resist.
some part of him couldn’t help but acknowledge dream as his god. not in reverence, only in fact. after all, an angel crafted by human hands should naturally serve a god crafted by one, too. and there was a satisfaction in that- letting himself play along with the childish whims of the man who ruined his life. it felt like he was breathing for the first time after being shoved underwater, and despite how much he fucking hated every second of being dream’s little social experiment in exile, he also longed for that feeling again, more than anything. he’d never felt more free than when he wasn’t his own person.
it was so very tempting to give into that. be miserable but be whole. be a free prisoner. and in the ways dream looked at him like wilbur did, admiration and amusement and annoyance all at once, he could learn to live with that. he could play pretend, like dream played pretend that he was anything more than a sad sad man looking for anything to prevent his loneliness.
but tommy had other people to protect than himself. the decision was easy, then. he almost didn’t have to choose it. he felt both comforted and revolted by the idea. was that why he was made? some cheap follower designed with an inbuilt need to be helpful just to avoid trouble? did he have no purpose other than to be a follower? did that make dream right?
no. no, he couldn’t be because he hurt tubbo and if he’d been forced to not be able to choose anything he’d at least sure as fuck choose who’d do it for him, even if it was his last act of spite. he’d spit in the face of who he was, even if it hurt, even if it made everything so much harder.
he lived in the little rebellions, little acts of defiance no one but him would notice. they meant more than the loud anger- that came easy to him. but the subtle revolts, those merely internal, were his proudest battles, and if he didn’t fight them every day what was the point? there wasn’t any, if he didn’t make his own. and he’d carve that out with his dying breaths if he had to.
#sorry in an angelinnit mood#c!tommy#my writing#my headcanons#a little bit of c!prime#religious themes tw#dehumanisation tw#internalised ableism tw#human experimentation tw#abuse tw#i like exploring non human mindsets can u tell :3
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video games r fun escapism but also as a physically disabled person sometimes they're so... harrowing. for reasons that feel so silly when i express them out loud. like i was playing bg3 earlier and - yeah, sure, nobody irl goes on these massive adventures to save the world, i have yet to meet anybody who could cast magic missile or has murdered a bog witch, but like. every so often my character will do something super mundane like Crouching To Sneak or Climbing or Getting Back Up Easily After Falling Over and i get this bitter feeling in my chest because those are normal human activities that people can do and i still struggle with all of them. i love it and it's so much fun and i really can't fault anybody for my own jealous grumblings, yknow, but sometimes it's just... a bit of a bleak reminder that i will never be "normal"
#on the bright side: i reacted to that horrible feeling by writing a bunch of shitty disability headcanons w my bf#which made me feel a little better#they just like me fr#og#vent#internalised ableism tw
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now that i got my autism diagnosis i feel like i can finally grieve the life i will never have
i can grieve the fact that i will never, ever ever be like other people. I'm always going to be different, there's no changing who i am. and who i am is fundamentally incompatible with the society I'm in.
i can grieve that one sliver of "hope" i was actually allistic. "maybe if i tried hard enough i could be like them"... but now i know I can't. I won't. it's simply not possible.
i can grieve but i can also forgive myself, forgive myself for everything and forgive my body for trying to live in a world not made for it.
#internalised ableism#actually autistic#kawa.txt#tw mentally ill#actually traumatized#actually abused
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I’m writing an ADHD Zuko fic and this is one of my favourite scene (also the angstiest)
TW for: Child Abuse, physical abuse, ableism, internalised ableism
In the intimacy of his room, Zuko admitted to himself that he didn’t know how to handle it.
The way he could see himself reflected in Sokka and the envy twisting his stomach at how natural the boy was. He was all the things Zuko was never allowed to be. It was obvious he’d never been reprimanded for the way he fidgeted; obvious that no one had ever put a burning palm to his arm so he would focus. He was painstakingly comfortable with being himself everywhere he went.
Zuko didn’t want these things to hurt him. He didn’t want all the things he’d been told he couldn’t be, but he’d never been able to snuff out that flame. Even if he had learned to hide it, he knew. He knew the way he sometimes slipped away just to realize he couldn’t remember half of the conversation. He knew the way he bent his toes and bit his tongue so no one would see the energy burning in his veins. He knew whatever it was, wasn’t gone, and he’d since long stopped hoping he would grow out of it like his mother used to say.
And Sokka just did it.
Alone in the dark, he allowed himself to feel angry at Sokka. The corner of his eyes prickled, and he closed his fists tighter. He could let himself rage, but he couldn’t cry (that, too, he’d unlearnt under burning hands).
He’d let go of that anger with training the next morning. Or maybe he could throw some things around and burn a blanket or two right now. It wouldn’t be the first time.
It was supposed to be a good night. They had fun, and it had gone so surprisingly well until the music had stopped and then…
(Though he lived with it at every moment, it wasn’t often he let himself really think about it. Agni, he just wanted to be normal. He just wanted to be good. A good son, a good nephew, a good Prince, a good brother. A good… friend, maybe. And he knew you couldn’t be like he was and be good both. It was one or the other; it had never really been a choice at all, had it?
Sokka did it effortlessly, but Sokka wasn’t Fire Nation.)
#i didn’t know I had that in me tbh#WIP#discovering feeling through writing#adhd zuko#adhd Sokka#internalised ableism#TW child abuse#tw ableism#atla#Zuko#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#fanfiction writer#adhd
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My friend has recently acquired a disability and now whenever they need an accomodation that is abnormal, they do this awkward 'shaming myself before you shame me-thing'
And I'm so not down with that.
They were unable to use sunscreen because they're violently allergic to all the perfumes people put in there as a matter of course. I walk slowly and, especially on a beach, with quite great difficulty.
The reason we were on the beach during nearly 40C heat was that it is the near only public space that allows you to bring your own food; near the only food my friend can safely eat.
The problem, though, was as follows - allow them to stay in the sun too long and, covered or not, they'd quite likely burn. But make me walk too fast, I'll hurt myself or pass out. So I gave them a head start to shade, after which they waited there while I sat down, caught my breath, drank a bottle of water and limped on to my car, where they joined me and sat inside while I loaded our stuff in, again, lest they burn horribly.
"Look at us struggling," they said in that faux funny tone.
I thought we'd been damn clever actually, getting our needs met by taking them into account and acting accordingly. No one was hurt, and we reached our goal as comfortably as possible.
"I refuse to be ashamed," I said. "We're managing, and well, without inconveniencing anyone. Not even ourselves."
But it really hurt me. Formerly abled people are always so apologetic. "Oh, I'm very slow." "Oh, I need help, like some idiot."
And I keep thinking: to they think needing consideration is shameful? Do they think my needing their consideration is shameful?
If you shame yourself for taking the actions you need to take to live a good life, how can you ever expect to live well? If you shame yourself out of fear of reprisal from the ableds, do you think you deserve it?
I don't shame myself for getting by, and if somebody tries, I will do my best to stay civil, but I will give them a piece of my mind.
People shame me a lot for being slow or clumsy, and I never go along with it other than to say: "Yes, but I never promised you any different, did I?" Because I refuse to live in a world where being slow or clumsy is shameful.
I know this perplexes them, and invariably, they figure out I have a disability and come rushing back, absolutely contrite and full of apologies. "I didn't know you have a disability," they say, and the If 'd have known you had an excuse, I wouldn't have shamed you goes unspoken. To which I always reply: "You couldn't have known. I didn't tell you," and the I don't owe you my medical information not to be publicly humiliated also goes unspoken, but rarely unheard. "Well, I'm sorry," this usually ends with, and that I will take, because they should be sorry, not for shaming a cripple, but for shaming anyone at all who did nothing but exist in their vicinity.
I will not be shamed for living the best life I can, and I'm hurt by the fact that others seem to think that I should be, really. That refusing to take harassment is a radical stance, and the only way to politely pre-empt it is to punish yourself first. Because you deserve it.
No.
I deserve dignity, same as anyone.
I may not always get it, but that is the other person's fault for mistreating people.
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Is there a way to lessen the guilt/shame that comes with placing my health first before everything else? I'm in my last year of high school and therefore teachers have put real emphasis on never missing any classes, but with my disabilities that is simply not feasible for me and I feel incredibly bad about it.
I can't escape judgment either, we're still working on me getting legally recognized as disabled and meanwhile a classmate who had the same incident I did that sparked my disability...walked it off without consequence. Teachers know this. They can compare. They can tell me that I'm being lazy when I'm trying my best to ignore my body's limits and still go to school. It does not help that my current doctor does not believe nor respect me (so she refuses to file medical papers to cover up the days I genuinely cannot get out of bed) but I'm not allowed to see a different one because parents are like this for some reason.
I know it should be common sense to put my health first, but it's been ingrained in me to go to school even when horribly sick since I was basically a toddler (I became disabled as a younger teen) and I can't shake off the guilt and shame.
Be kind to yourself.
This has been in my drafts for a couple of days now while I tried to find an answer, and this is one I’ve settled on.
I know it’s difficult and probably not the answer you were hoping for, but it’s the best one I can think of. There is no one answer; overcoming all of those feelings- the guilt, the shame, the internalised ableism- it’s a process that’s different for everyone and so I can’t guarantee that anything I tell you will work. But I think learning to be kind to yourself is a good starting point.
And that doesn’t mean having to love yourself. I know it can be difficult to like yourself sometimes when all of those emotions are going around your head, and so I’m not going to tell you that you have to. But just. Take the time to remind yourself every now and then that you are allowed to put yourself first.
Remind yourself that school is fucking hard and it is absolutely not your fault that they have made you feel like attendance is the most important thing in life. It is not. And if this pandemic has taught us anything it is that there are for more practical alternatives to physical attendance. (Maybe see if you can arrange something where you attend your classes online; if they did it during lockdown they can do it again). You are allowed to take time off when your body simply will not function. It is okay.
Remind yourself that you are allowed to simply be.
It will be hard and you will have bad days. I can’t guarantee it will work or when, but I think it’s a pretty good place to start and I do hope it helps in some way.
I wish you all the best, anon.
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