Content by young people with disability. Talking about policy, advocacy and lived experience.
I’m still stuck in limbo, waiting to hear whether I’ve been accepted or rejected for the second time. They’ve taken two weeks to acknowledge the receipt of my identity documents, only to say they need more evidence that I do in fact exist and am who I say I am.
I was at school, and there was an expectation that I get on with my studies and put aside any internal struggles related to my disability. So, in a sense, I kind of skipped past the grief stage and was forced to accept it without having time to comprehend what was happening to me.
I got myself surrounded with a network of support. Friends that I could trust, support groups that I could talk to without feeling ashamed. These were the people that motivated me to care for myself and reminded me that I was not alone on this personal journey.
I used to think I hated learning. I remember being confused about why there were always “right” and “wrong” ways to communicate, sit, listen, and learn. However, it turned out that I didn’t hate learning – I hated the way school forced me to learn.
I can not do some typical self-care activities that others who aren’t deafblind might do. I can’t go to the movies and see a film, or watch Netflix while curled up on the couch …
One thing that brings me great joy and allows me to truly switch off, is reading, but the National Disability Insurance Agency (NDIA) are of the belief that funding braille translation of books is not “reasonable” or “necessary”.
Pre-service Teachers are still not required to learn about disability in their four years of study, and if they are taught about disability in education, it is usually only a very small portion of what should actually be taught.
I love self-care. I will gladly indulge in anything that gives me the happy brain stuff (also known as Serotonin and Dopamine), but my enjoyment of reading uninterrupted for days, or cleaning, or rewatching something I’ve seen a million times before isn’t generally perceived as “self-care”, despite its positive impact.
Diagnoses of invisible disabilities (for example, MS, ADHD, arthritis, brain injuries, diabetes, learning disabilities, chronic pain and fatigue etc.) are undeniably tricky to navigate, and can be especially difficult for parents with young children with little to no experience of the disability sector
I have done a lot of evolving in my short-long life. From the kid who was left behind, to the person teaching the class. I have a lot to say on the education system – mostly that it’s kaput – and I feel a lot of responsibility when it comes to teaching my kiddos (who, like me, are disabled).
I used to be someone who considered self-care another thing on the to-do list, a burden of sorts. I desperately wanted self-care to “work” so that I could get on with my life. It was almost clinical.
Since I was a school kid, I have shown signs of ADD – attention deficit disorder.
Spending majority of my classes in uncontrolled daydreaming, fidgeting unconsciously with the stationaries on my desk, and missing half of my schoolwork unintentionally, I started to become frustrated about myself.
A diagnosis is an understanding of myself, and a closure to my unresolved thoughts. It is not a label to be ashamed of, no matter what it is.
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