Bodily Injuries

Several years ago I worked for a group promoting the interests of people with invisible disabilities. I researched, edited, wrote. I created a glossary of disability terms and it remains one of the works I am proudest of.

It was fascinating because it was a field I knew little about, but soon I was reading more about the history of disability and the perceptions and experiences of people with disability in history and now.

Additionally, a dear friend was going blind but was also being told his symptoms were psychosomatic and he eventually fought won assistance for being disabled.

This work occurred before I contracted a virus, which caused my colitis. In the beginning it was so severe that it affected what, when, if I ate, as well as what I wore, where I could travel, how long I could be out, and how long I could sleep.

The most difficult time was when, after I reported sexual abuse to authorities. When they believed me and started legal proceedings against the man, it become the worst is had ever been. The way my condition manifested is correlated with abuse.

I would have thought of myself disabled then, especially when I consider “dis-“ “ — able,” meaning to lack the process for doing something. In fact, the word “able” is so essential that I had a hard time defining “able” without using the word in the definition.

I return to invisible disability because now I control my colitis and accept my life will never be the same, I wonder if I did have and still have an invisible disability. For one, when I couldn’t control the disease, I looked mostly the same, if thin and pale.

My gauntness was mistaken for a good thing and people,mostly, women, would praise me for my shape and how easy it seemed for me to maintain a low weight. If they only knew that looking “good” is literally hard work. It’s interesting that people see one thing and we feel another.

Now, I struggle less, though now without constant vigilance. So, am I still disabled? According to the denotation, yes. To everyone else, maybe? My body isn’t forgiving me, it’s waiting for the next time. And my mind is constantly monitoring. Can I do the things I used to do? Mostly.

So, am I now semi-abled? Am I “really disabled”? Is there a hierarchy? I ask because when I told someone about being abused, the person said, “at least you weren’t raped.” I find cold comfort in that. Are there conditions around disability? It’s a club I wonder if I belong to.