Dyslexia, dyspraxia and aspergers are all variously hidden. There's no guide dog acting as my life companion or a wheelchair, which is so synonymous with disability it is used as the national symbol for disabled access or services or parking. Although, reading that last part, a dog life companion sounds fairly awesome.
Before I continue I want to just go off on a slight tangent. I am incredibly lucky. Occasionally I feel that this blog could very well devolve into a whine fest, full of the internet popular "white whine" although, perhaps more a "disabled whine". (Although, maybe disabled wine might sell like those monks booze). I have both natural luck and family luck. The ins and outs of my history doesn't make good reading, but being able to produce a blog at all is a minor miracle, and having escaped one fate, even with caveats of disability, cerbral palsy, dyslexia, dyspraxia and aspergers, I have all four mildly. I am not wheelchair bound (although I will joke that is my destiny), I am variously able to write, read and while I am delightfully uncoordinated, I can drive (who just gave up driving for life?). I do blend in to regular neurotrophical society with remarkable ability. Some of it is self taught, some of it is cultural, a lot of it is excellent parent support, people being very understanding (being given out to for calling myself a retard by colleagues, college professors, partners and others is both hilarious and disappointing). Right after that foreshadowing paragraph, let's continue.
Being able to "hide" helps mostly, I don't suffer perceived discrimination or snide comments. The idea recently that there are levels to every disability certainly applies to me. George Takei, a man I love not just for his Star Trek fame and roles, but his championing of gay rights and his highlighting of uncomfortable truths about the American WW2 record, was hounded for sharing a meme of a wheelchair user standing to reach alcohol (whether this is right or wrong I will leave to my readers) but it highlighted that disability is not a black or white issue. Anyone with a disability is very capable of doing anything. It is not disability, but this ability. We can do more than we are often credited for.
This issue is turning into a delightful minefield, you may want to pretend to be a penguin at home.
The story that jumps to mind is one from a text book from my youth. The tale of two ladies who go for coffee every week, and the lady in the wheelchair is talked about, not to, as staff ask the "able bodied" lady "does she take milk?"
Because I blend, it is when I open my mouth that I give myself away. I have gotten better at this, silence being a safe refuge, or topics of bland yet not weather related subjects. I often find the party trick of when surrounded people you don't know at a party, ask questions and make others talk about themselves, thus making the silent approach acceptable as someone tells you facts about their lives. This lets me soak facts for later use, both with that person and when bored in work I can leave my colleagues baffled.
My ataxia is now beginning to signal something is wrong, and to trained eyes it is a fairly obvious sign of cerbral palsy. I am hoping my exercises will minimise my ataxia and the delightful obviousness of my condition. Still, joking that I shouldn't be allowed make the tea and carry it to the office does tKe the sting out a bit.
Right, that's a solid page for now, plenty to revisit I am sure. Goodnight.
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