Asking For Help Takes Courage

Internalized ableism holds us all back.

Happy Disability Pride Month, Readers!

I hope this finds everyone swell. Next month we travel more and when I fly, you’ll often see me wear my invisible illness t-shirt. I wear it to remind others and myself, folks who aren’t visibly disabled still struggle at times.

I remind myself because ableism is so deeply rooted inside me, I find myself struggling.

I often don’t ask for help. Why? Because I’ve asked and been denied, or questioned aggressively and made to feel, essentially, really bad.

When a disability or illness is invisible, it’s also often hard to accept it and acknowledge it in myself.

Which is why Disability Pride Month is so important. I shouldn’t feel shame, guilt, and judgement - and maybe one day I’ll feel more than acceptance.

Maybe one day, I’ll feel proud of all I accomplish despite challenges. And I’ll be able to ask for help without shame.

But today is not that day.

I’m working on it. I talk a lot in therapy about living at the edge of disability. After my diagnosis, my autonomic nervous system has never been the same. I have low blood pressure and get dizzy quickly. I have fatigue, which is especially bad after my infusions. I have new frustrating joint issues and torn ligaments I’ve never had before.

Some hours I’m fine. Some hours I’m not.

What’s interesting - the disabled community has never made me feel bad, but others - usually strangers who look at me with ignorance - like the receptionist at that doctors office, or the Southwest Airlines team at Burbank airport that one August morning - they have made me feel so judged that asking for help makes me feel bad.

It even, flat out, scares me sometimes.

And that’s terrible.

I have always said on here repeatedly, humans are bad judges of wellness.

If I ask for help, it takes courage. And I don’t think I’m alone.

And as I’ve said before, when I look around my world, ableism is a constantly reinforced bias. Even my progressive, well-meaning former workplace with Diversity and Inclusion efforts never counted the nation’s largest minority group. Disability and its community simply wasn’t acknowledged or counted in internal surveys or in discussions, or represented by employee resource groups.

What does it say when the world’s largest minority population and 17% of the world population is ignored?

That’s more people than the population of China.

More than one in five adults in Los Angeles have a disability, according to the LA Public Health, and yet, a workplace, which prided itself in reflecting LA, didn’t count disabled coworkers.

But they sure did report on them in news pieces. Because we don’t see disabled people as peers. We see them as a population to protect.

After July’s birth, I saw my hyper-drive to be “able” again as part of my denial of this identity. So much so, that I wouldn’t even get a handicapped placard. Which is bananas.

I see other spoonie friends with chronic illness or hidden illness move through these situations with ease. I envy them.

And the reality is, everyone will be disabled at some point. It’s coming for all of us. So why aren’t we more understanding as humans? Ableism. Unconscious bias.

When I fly next, it will be less than 24 hours after my infusion. I hope grace and patience flies with me.

As well as bravery to face the possible push-back.

At the end of the day, if someone asks for help, for the love of God, HELP THEM.

It takes courage to ask for help.

READER SURVEY

Thanks to all the paid and dedicated readers who filled out this quick survey. Now I’m opening it up to everyone. Please share your thoughts as I plan out RDG’s evolution.

Did You Miss It?

That time I almost got kicked off a flight after asking for help. No wonder I’m a little reluctant to ask for help.

If you’re new here and wondering, “what happened to this lady?” read The Fighter Still Remains Part 1. xo

If you’re new here, intended to be both memoir and a practical tool to help folks who might be going through something similar or those caregivers and family supporting someone with a challenging diagnosis. I hope to include excerpts here as I write. NOTE: This is not intended to replace actual medical guidance. Please consult your doctors on your individual challenges and situations. Also names have been changed for most of my medical staff.

Thank you to CC Couchois, Roy Lenn, and Dr. Richard Burwick for your founding level donation.