Every single day, I feel the pressure to fit in. I know my limits. When I try to assert them as my reason for not pushing beyond them, I’m met with statements regarding my laziness and refusal to not anything for others. My disabilities become pedestrian excuses, whereas anyone else’s inability is a serious concern. Why are mine so different?
I’m typing this post with my right hand. My left hand sits atop a turquoise-colored washcloth surrounding an ice pack. I awoke two hours ago, but already I’m exhausted. Is this my lesson, for not asserting myself adequately? Or is it a lesson for my critics, who approach my disabilities with a double standard—an expectation for me to be able to do everything imaginable, even though no one can do everything?
Before bed, I teared up. The latter—a lesson of proof—seems more plausible for my life, but why should it come to that? Why do people need to see proof in order to belief something such as this? Why is the assumption always that I’m lying about my health conditions, when I have memory and obvious symptoms? They all just pick apart the symptoms and ridicule me for them like I’m making them up. If my diagnoses were snakes, they’d have all been bitten over and over by now.
It’s always out in the open, but because it’s me—who I sometimes wonder if all they see in me is my mom, who they think is nothing like themselves—they’re blinded.
I have to overdo myself—push way beyond my limits even though I feel the warning signs—to try to be enough for them, and it’s still not enough.
I think I’m more injured by and sick to my stomach over that than I am the actual injury
This quote chimes in every time I’m pressured, making me doubt myself:
You read a few things online and suddenly think you’re equipped to diagnose yourself. […] I’ve had experience with clinically diagnosed individuals and have had extensive training on working with them and teaching them.
This mentality of I-know-better-because-of-my-training/experience/whatever is so—I don’t know anymore.
All I know is how over the superiority complex I am. I’m criticized by people who are supposed to love me because I’m different and don’t care about what others will think—and the need to prove myself and how I’m not exaggerating or being melodramatic hurts the most.
I do want to disclaim that this situation was not directly associated with proving myself, but…isn’t that always a concern? I’m surrounded by people who give me the impression that I’m inadequate or inferior because I “won’t do” something, regardless of how it’s more than I can’t do something. I felt the warnings, I stated the warnings, but I should have insisted and just stopped. It’s just that when you’re constantly criticized for something you can’t do, you start to wonder if they’re right. Maybe it’s me I wanted to prove it to this time.
Edit 7/23: I failed to mention the injury: I have carpal tunnel syndrome. Due to overuse, a ligament in my hand, circa my thumb, tore.
If you loved this post, please share or buy me a pretzel:
さようなら、２０１８ | Autistic Jane
[…] my CTS would be fine and got a related injury from fucking […]
Oops. What is life? 🤷♀️ I just realized I’m capable of my dreams. 🤦♀️ | Janepedia
[…] all it took was a hand injury. 🙄 Speaking of which, here a […]
I know you said you don’t want me to contact you, but I feel I have to say this even though it may not be anything coming from me.
Honestly, you just keep being you. Don’t try so hard to impress others you’ll just disappoint yourself and only yourself. If people don’t believe you in regards to food allergies or what have you, that is strictly on them not you. You know you’re telling the truth. For me, I get the “look” whenever a doctor asks me if I smoke or drink, which I don’t do either. When I tell them i don’t smoke nor drink, I know I’m telling the truth (exception of the few times I did have a drink way back when, but I’m not a wine drinker or any alcohol drinker). I know how you feel when you’re not believed and you’ve put all your effort into doing something and it feels it just goes in vain. You’re strong and you just keep being you.
Again, I’m sorry for commenting, but I just couldn’t resist.
You know, it’s fine. Life is messy.
I guess I didn’t explain precisely what happened in my post—meant to link to my tweets, oops—but I tore a ligament in my thumb from overuse (carpal tunnel injury “proof/confirmation”, because apparently I needed that). It takes 4-6 weeks to heal. I can’t use much of my left hand for 4-6 weeks. The quote, though, is from a message exchange between an aunt and I who criticized me for having written a post about autism stigma, picking apart every. single. thing. about me, even my insecurities.
The post was a mess itself because I was in sooo much pain whilst writing it. 😅 Not something I condone; I just felt too in the moment to not publish it. Some posts need messy, but also…I’m sharing raw Jane now, not filtered Jane.
Ouch! Yeah, I have carpal tunnel as well (learning how to code from tutorials and what not from lissaexplains.com). I’m sorry that people don’t believe you. I know the feeling when people don’t believe me. I guess we just learn to move on and say f*ck it.
Sometimes, we can’t always make a post perfect and needs to be let out even if it is messy. Who cares right about being perfect as no one is perfect and if they claim they are they’re lying to themselves. I’ve made mistakes, and I have learned from them hence the reason why I’m saying who cares if a post isn’t perfect. As long as you were able to get it off your mind and/or chest and helped in some way. Right?