Thoughts on #OwnVoices

I am a bi/pansexual person with non-visible disabilities. Five years ago, I hadn’t come to accept either of those things about myself. In the first case, I was repressed, and in the second I was ignorant.

Ten years ago, not only was I not the feminist I am now, I was very vocal against certain rights for women. (Yes, I hated myself. It’s a potted history.)

Do you know what helped? For the most part, educational Tumblr posts.

Seriously. From the more liberal parts of the internet I not only learned some pretty key things about myself, but also a level of self-acceptance I had never experienced before.

As I hope these points illustrate, talking about issues outside of the ‘norm’ helps real-life people in real ways. Whether it regards race, sexual orientation, disability, disfigurement, or anything else.

Perhaps ‘issues outside the norm’ isn’t the best way to word that, but I can’t think of a better alternative. Part of the problem regarding said issues is that the terms have become politicised. People don’t always have the right words. Other people get offended. It becomes a bit of a shitshow and the main points get lost.

A prime example of this has been the recent Twitter drama regarding the ‘Own Voices’ movement. Continue reading

On Accessing (and not accessing) Healthcare

I’m gonna start this post, right off the bat, by saying I am in full support of the UK’s National Health Service and all they do. It’s a crime (or at least it bloody well should be) the way it’s been systematically underfunded for years, leaving waiting lists ridiculously high and people, quite frankly, fucked.

Today’s post is a personal one, because today, I am one of the people being fucked over.

I need to rant and vent, but I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. The problem isn’t truly the NHS, it’s those bastards in parliament trying (and in many cases succeeding) to gut it.

Disclaimer made, let me now rewind to explain why I’m upset.

I’m just off the phone with Occupational Therapy, who have told me – in essence – that they can’t help me. I had gone to my GP about a long-standing issue I had, seeking her advice for the best way to go about getting officially diagnosed and accessing help.

She told me I needed to self-refer to O.T.

Now that I’ve tried that and gotten nowhere, I am – precisely – nowhere with zero clue of what to do next. Continue reading

The Accidental Chihuahua

I’m quite convinced my husband and I have the smallest dog in the universe. Here’s the story of how we unintentionally acquired him.

It was the day after boxing day and my cousin Kim, who is quite genuinely one of the most fascinating/hilarious/brilliant human beings in the aforementioned universe, was driving to Dublin to drop off her son with his father.

She invited Steve and I along for the drive and we said yes. It was going to be an early start, and we were both quite tired from all the festivities of the past few days, but it sounded like a fun mini adventure.

Kim said she’d pick us up at six.

At half-seven, when she still hadn’t arrived, Steve went to bed.

I stayed up, knowing she’d show up eventually – this was classic Kim.

And lo, another two hours later, a car appeared in the street. I stepped out of my house at the same time Kim opened her car door and placed four tiny paws on the footpath in front of me.

“This is Beans,” she said, “He’s coming too.” Continue reading