Abuse

Create a new post for topic
Join the Conversation on
Abuse
29.3K people
0 stories
6.6K posts
About Abuse Show topic details
Explore Our Newsletters
What's New in Abuse
All
Stories
Posts
Videos
Latest
Trending
Post

Silence

It wasn’t the violence that hurt the most.
It wasn’t the endless cycle of abuse
that finally pushed me away.
It wasn’t your fists.

What broke me
was believing, for the first time,
that I could fall apart safely—
and realizing you didn’t care enough
to help put me back together.

I was handed off instead.

To cops.
To jails.
To therapists.
To military schools.

Institutions that tried to parent
what you weren’t willing to.
What you didn’t care to.
What you didn’t know how to love.

Because you couldn’t love me.

You never learned to regulate
what I had to.

You say you won’t tolerate a relationship
that isn’t rooted in respect.

Was it respect
when you beat me?
My mother?
My siblings?

Was it respect
when you offered to pay for my education
and later threw it back at me as worthless
because it made me empathetic—
because it made me soft
in ways you never survived being?

When I look back on a life half-lived,
I can’t find a single moment
where you actually respected me.

Only obedience.
Only dependence.
Only the version of me
that needed you to survive.

And when I didn’t—
when I finally stood upright,
found my own voice,
claimed my own opinions—
you hated it.

But that is not a lesson
either of us needs to keep learning.

I need to learn to love myself
in the places you never could.
To respect what you couldn’t see.
To heal what you broke first.
To unlearn the patterns
you're still trying
to beat into me.

Maybe they were beaten into you.

Maybe you have changed.
Maybe I just can’t see it
while staring so hard at the past,
trying to rework the present.

But today,
saying *I love you*
means not saying anything at all.

Respect means restraint.
Accountability is foreign.

So silence—
not anger,
not punishment—

silence will become comfort.

#MightyPoets #MightyTogether #MentalHealth #Addiction #PTSD #Grief #Abuse

(edited)
Post
See full photo

Mental Health and Stigma: When Survival Is Misunderstood—and Healing Is Judged By BigmommaJ

Mental health struggles do not exist in isolation. They are shaped by experiences, environments, systems, and relationships—many of which were never safe to begin with.

Yet stigma continues to frame mental illness as a personal failure rather than a human response to adversity.

Research consistently shows that stigma is one of the greatest barriers to seeking mental health support, often leading to delayed treatment, increased distress, and poorer outcomes (Mental Health Commission of Canada [MHCC], 2022). Stigma is not just uncomfortable—it is harmful.

For individuals impacted by trauma, child welfare involvement, addiction, and recovery, stigma often becomes an additional wound layered onto an already heavy history.

Where Stigma Begins

Mental health stigma thrives where understanding ends.

It shows up when behaviors are judged without context, when trauma responses are labeled as defiance or manipulation, and when people are reduced to diagnoses instead of seen as whole human beings shaped by what they have lived through. Language and labeling play a critical role in reinforcing stigma, particularly within systems meant to provide care (Herman, 2015).

Stigma asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

Trauma-informed care asks, “What happened to you?”

This shift in perspective is foundational to trauma-informed practice and is supported by evidence demonstrating improved engagement and outcomes when individuals feel understood rather than blamed (SAMHSA, 2014).

Child Welfare, Trauma, and the Mental Health Continuum

Children involved in child welfare systems are disproportionately exposed to adverse childhood experiences (ACEs), including abuse, neglect, domestic violence, parental substance use, and chronic instability (Public Health Agency of Canada [PHAC], 2023).

These experiences do not disappear with time—they embed themselves in the nervous system, shaping attachment patterns, emotional regulation, and coping strategies across the lifespan.

The landmark ACEs study established a strong, graded relationship between childhood adversity and later mental health challenges, substance use disorders, and chronic physical illness (Felitti et al., 1998).

Despite this evidence, individuals with child welfare histories are often stigmatized for the very adaptations that helped them survive early adversity.

What we label as “problem behavior” is frequently a trauma response.

What we punish is often pain.

Addiction: A Stigmatized Trauma Response

Addiction remains one of the most stigmatized mental health conditions, particularly when it intersects with trauma histories.

Research shows that a significant proportion of individuals with substance use disorders have experienced childhood trauma, neglect, or violence (SAMHSA, 2014).

Substance use is often an attempt to regulate overwhelming emotions, numb intrusive memories, or create a sense of control when safety was never guaranteed.

Neurobiological research supports that trauma alters stress and reward pathways in the brain, increasing vulnerability to substance use as a coping mechanism (Herman, 2015).

Yet stigma continues to frame addiction as moral failure rather than a health condition, leading to:

*Delayed help-seeking

*Increased shame and secrecy

*Higher relapse rates

*Reduced access to compassionate care

Addiction is not a lack of willpower. It is a nervous system searching for relief.

Personal Reflection: What I’ve Seen—and Lived

Working within child welfare, alongside my own healing and recovery journey, has taught me that people are rarely broken—they are burdened.

I have seen children labeled “difficult” when they were terrified.

Parents judged as “unmotivated” when they were navigating unresolved trauma.

Individuals dismissed as “addicts” instead of recognized as survivors.

I have also lived the impact of stigma—the way it follows you into systems, appointments, and even your own internal dialogue.

Research confirms that internalized stigma significantly worsens mental health outcomes and reduces self-efficacy in recovery (MHCC, 2022).

Recovery, for me, was not just about changing behaviors. It was about unlearning shame. About recognizing that survival does not require justification. And about understanding that healing is not linear—a reality well documented in trauma and recovery literature (Herman, 2015).

Recovery Is Not an Endpoint—It Is a Practice

Recovery is often portrayed as a finish line. In reality, it is an ongoing process of self-regulation, self-awareness, and reconnection.

Evidence-based models of recovery emphasize that healing occurs over time and requires safety, trust, and empowerment (SAMHSA, 2014).

Recovery can mean:

*Learning safer coping strategies

*Rebuilding trust with self and others

*Naming trauma without being defined by it

*Choosing growth even when it’s uncomfortable

Stigma tells people they should be “over it by now.”
Recovery science tells us otherwise.

From Awareness to Action

Public awareness of mental health has increased, yet stigma continues to shape who is believed, who receives care, and who is left behind.

The Mental Health Commission of Canada (2022) emphasizes that meaningful change requires systemic, trauma-informed approaches rather than crisis-driven or punitive responses.

Action looks like:

*Trauma-informed child welfare and mental health systems

*Integrated treatment for mental health and addiction

*Language that reduces shame and increases engagement

*Early intervention rather than crisis-only care

Mental health care must do more than manage symptoms—it must restore dignity.

The Vision: Rise Above Your Norm

Rise Above Your Norm is not just a blog—it is the foundation of a future private practice rooted in lived experience, clinical understanding, and evidence-based, trauma-informed care.

This practice is being built to serve individuals who have been historically misunderstood or marginalized within systems:

*Those with complex trauma histories

*Individuals impacted by child welfare involvement

*People navigating addiction and recovery

*Families working to break generational cycles

*Thos affected by sexual abuse, exploitation and domestic violence

Research consistently shows that trauma-informed, person-centered care improves engagement, outcomes, and long-term recovery (SAMHSA, 2014; MHCC, 2022).

What This Practice Will Stand For

This space will be:

*Trauma-informed, grounded in ACEs and neurobiology research

*Non-judgmental, rejecting shame-based models

*Integrated, addressing mental health and addiction together

*Grounded in dignity, recognizing lived experience as expertise.

Healing should not require proving your pain. It should meet you where you are.

A Call to the Community

*If you are a professional: examine your language and assumptions.

*If you are a policymaker: invest in prevention, not punishment.

*If you are a loved one: replace judgment with curiosity.

*If you are struggling: your healing is valid—even when it is nonlinear.

Reducing stigma is a shared responsibility—and one that directly impacts lives (MHCC, 2022).

A Final Word

Mental health struggles are not evidence of weakness. They are evidence of endurance.

The work ahead is not easy—but it is necessary.

This is how we rise:

*By choosing understanding over stigma.

*By building systems that reflect real lives.

*By believing people are worthy of care long before they reach rock bottom.

This is the work of Rise Above Your Norm.
And this is only the beginning

BigmommaJ
#Stigma #MentalHealth #Addiction #change

Most common user reactionsMost common user reactions 3 reactions
Post

Use / abuse

The Eurythmics in Sweet Dreams, sang some people want to use you. Some people want to be used. Some people abuse you. Some people want to be abused. I expect people here will recognise this pattern of passive and active. I was recently click baited by a passerby as I innocently opened my mouth, when she mentioned something that had just happened to her, then run off. Such people take the moral high ground and trick you into saying something you regret. Familiar?

Most common user reactions 1 reaction 3 comments
Post

I'm new here!

Hi! I am Anna. I live in Cyprus where I found my true love and got divorced after 5 years of struggles, feeling lost, confusedy disrepect, blame shifting. I've got 2 plus 3 kids. We are a patchwork family and do co-parenting with my ex-husband. My passion, love and happiness is photography. I am working as a photographer and artist. I grew up in a emotionally abusive environment. I am close to people who are dealing with unhealthy, toxic and emotionally abuse in their relationship. My first photo exhibition is about this topic. The exhibition is interactive with games and conversation cards. Pictures are displayed with personal stories. Special guests who can provide tools and services are participated as well as info material will be provided. When I did my research I found The Mighty. If anyone wants to know more my exhibition or wants to support my project, please get in touch with me. All the best, Anna

#MightyTogether

Most common user reactions 3 reactions 1 comment
Post
See full photo

Why me?

There was a girl I was compared to online. I asked my ex-husband (before he was my ex) if she was better, and he said, "I don't know." It caused me to go into a borderline state and hurt myself further. Fast forward, we left each other, but the girl still posts subtle hints as if she is married to him. A lot of her TikTok captions have to do with the name Ali, and she even has a specific video talking about what happened because during my early days of BPD, I did go into psychosis, and she blames it on the app AliExpress. She knew my ex-boyfriend (b4 the ex- husband) and posted videos without detailing the horrific abuse I went through, and mentioned she reached out to him. I had TikTok take them down. Her most recent video and the search are so close to my ex-husband's name, who, by the way, married an 18-year-old. I am so tired of her. I hate living in this city every day, and driving is like impossible. If you were me? How would you forget and move on? I am only 27 and trying every day to fight off the happy toughts she has been having over my abusers.

(edited)
Most common user reactionsMost common user reactions 10 reactions 11 comments
Post
See full photo

Surviving Mental Health: When Staying Alive Is the Work By BigmommaJ

Surviving mental health is rarely discussed honestly.

Much of the public conversation focuses on thriving, healing, or overcoming. While those are meaningful goals, they often overlook a critical reality: for many individuals living with mental illness, complex trauma, or co-occurring substance use, survival itself is the work.

Survival is not passive.
It is an active, ongoing process of regulation, endurance, and adaptation—often happening quietly, without recognition.

What “Surviving” Really Means From a Trauma-Informed Lens

Clinically, survival reflects the nervous system doing exactly what it was designed to do: protect.

When a person has experienced chronic stress, interpersonal trauma, neglect, abuse, or repeated loss, the brain and body may remain in a heightened state of alert long after the danger has passed. This prolonged activation of the stress response system impacts emotional regulation, decision-making, and physical health (McEwen, 2007).

Canadian trauma frameworks recognize that many mental health symptoms are rooted in unresolved trauma and adverse experiences, particularly when exposure occurs early or repeatedly (Public Health Agency of Canada [PHAC], 2018).

From a trauma-informed perspective, survival can look like:

*Emotional dysregulation or rapid mood shifts

*Hypervigilance, anxiety, or chronic fear

*Emotional numbing or dissociation

*Difficulty trusting others or forming stable attachments

*Avoidance, shutdown, or withdrawal

*Impulsive or self-soothing behaviors, including substance use

These responses are often misunderstood or pathologized. Clinically, they are adaptive survival strategies developed in environments where safety was inconsistent or absent (Herman, 1992; CAMH, 2021).

Neuroscience research consistently shows that trauma alters how the brain processes threat, emotion, and memory. Structural and functional changes in the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex affect fear response, emotional regulation, and impulse control (Teicher et al., 2016; van der Kolk, 2014).

Canadian clinical guidance emphasizes that these neurobiological changes are not character flaws—they are learned survival responses shaped by experience (CAMH, 2021).

This is why telling someone to “just calm down” or “move on” is not only dismissive, but clinically inaccurate.

The brain learned survival

before it learned safety.

Survival Is a Valid Clinical Phase—Not a Failure

Recovery from mental illness and trauma is non-linear. Both Canadian and international trauma models identify stabilization and safety as the first phase of recovery—often long before insight, growth, or symptom reduction is possible (Herman, 1992; SAMHSA, 2014; PHAC, 2018).

At times, survival may look like:

*Attending therapy while still struggling daily

*Using medication while navigating shame or ambivalence

*Harm reduction rather than immediate abstinence

*Pulling back socially to prevent emotional overload

*Staying alive through periods of suicidal ideation

From a trauma-informed clinical lens, survival is not regression—it is groundwork.

Without safety and nervous system regulation, deeper healing cannot occur.

The Hidden Grief of Surviving

Survival often carries grief that remains unspoken.

Grief for:

*The life that feels harder than it should

*Relationships lost to symptoms or misunderstanding

*Opportunities missed due to illness or instability

*The version of self that existed before the trauma

Canadian mental health literature increasingly acknowledges the role of grief and loss in long-term mental health conditions, particularly for individuals with trauma histories or chronic diagnoses (Mental Health Commission of Canada [MHCC], 2019).

Healing does not require gratitude for trauma.
It requires validation, compassion, and time.

Moving From Survival Toward Stability

Trauma-informed care does not rush people out of survival mode. Instead, it prioritizes:

*Establishing internal and external safety

*Strengthening emotional regulation skills

*Supporting healthy attachment and boundaries

*Reducing shame through psychoeducation

*Honoring autonomy, choice, and pacing

Polyvagal theory further supports Canadian trauma models by emphasizing how healing occurs through repeated experiences of safety and connection, allowing the nervous system to move out of chronic defense (Porges, 2011).

For some, this process is slow. For others, it unfolds in cycles. Both are clinically expected—and valid.

Personal Reflection: Survival Is the Part No One Applauds

There were seasons of my life where survival was all I had to offer.

Not growth.
Not stability.
Not strength the way the world defines it.

Just survival.

As someone who has worked in child welfare and mental health, I understand the clinical language—the diagnoses, the treatment plans, the frameworks. But I also know what it feels like to live inside a nervous system that never learned safety first.

I know what it means to function on the outside while unraveling internally.
To be judged for coping mechanisms that once kept me alive.

To be told I was “going backwards” when, in reality, I was still here.

Survival doesn’t announce itself.
It doesn’t look inspiring.
But it is brave.

And if you are surviving your mental health right now—quietly, imperfectly, painfully—please hear this:

You are not failing.
You are not weak.
You are doing the hardest work there is.
Staying.

BigmommaJ
#mentalhealthmatters #Surviving

Most common user reactionsMost common user reactions 8 reactions
Post

I'm new here!

Hi, my name is Ericka. I'm here because I want to share more about how I've survived trauma and abuse and am trying to find my daily "what's next" in the recovery process. I am looking to find others who have been through their own battles and swapping strategies how they've survived. For me, it was three aviation disaster podcasts during the pandemic that helped to give me enough tools and concepts to hold onto when it felt like I was SwissAir 111 on the inside during my first psychotic break Summer 2025 at age 39 due to the effects of decades of trauma, stress, sleep deprivation, and homelessness. Now that I've come out on the other side and I've been going through the black box of my break, I'm starting to share some of how I made it, and kept my humor and humanity throughout, even if I've had to dig it out under a pile of shame. Not that I'm some guru or anything (and I have to state that clearly, because religious. delusions were a part of my break, lol), just someone who hopes that people will feel less alone and finds some courage to try again with humor and a whole lot of grace. We're not alone in this!

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #EatingDisorder #Trauma

Most common user reactions 2 reactions
Post

Community

Community.
It’s funny—to step into one
and feel like you should already know how to lead it.
To feel like a mentor by instinct.
A brother, a sister, an auntie.
Someone steady for those searching for family,
for the brokenhearted.

To feel half empty,
spread thin like butter across too much bread,
yet still able to offer more than words—
advice,
a simple meal,
companionship,
love.

To recognize the lost in children and adults alike,
each just trying to isolate a little less,
to be seen without being stared at.
To go from decades of solitude
to dozens of new faces in weeks,
learning how to share pieces of myself
without bleeding out—
pouring carefully, not emptying,
offering warmth without erasure.

To have worn so many masks
that my face forgot its own shape.
To have built personalities like scaffolding—
temporary, necessary, exhausting—
only to realize
that being myself
was the only thing anyone needed.

What I have to give
is love, understanding, patience, kindness.
They cost nothing.
They are renewable.
They fill my cup instead of draining it.

So I ask myself:
Is this people-pleasing or relationship-building?
Is it hypervigilance or empathy,
or simply the recognition
that I carry light
and can set it down beside someone else
without losing my own?

Vulnerability is the birthplace of change.
And I am ready.

Ready to unmask.
To unburden.
To unravel
and stitch myself back together
with intention.

I am learning and unlearning—
again and again—
that I didn’t have to do it alone,
that I don’t have to do it alone now.

To find the missing pieces.
To melt the gold.
To fill the fractures with love,
therapy,
medication,
with men and women
who see the real me
and do not flinch.

Who watch me stumble and fall
and offer hands, not ultimatums.
Kind words, not commands.

To do what my father could not.
To be who he cannot.
To repair what he did not break—
but broke in me.

To unhear and unlearn and unremember
the voice that became my inner weather:

You’re weak.
You hit like a girl.

"This is what I am paying for?"

If five thousand dollars fell from the sky—
would you catch it?
If it saved you?
If it saved your family?

That question became an argument.
An argument sharp enough
for him to regret my education,
to throw it back at me,
to call it worthless—
while I hold a master’s,
while I have built more with less,
gone further on thinner ground.

I have done more with less help.
I have survived without a net.

Emotions are chaotic and messy
when numbness finally cracks.
They arrive loud,
uninvited,
terrifying.

Feel.
Feel.
Feel.
Stay.

Sit with it.
Breathe with it.
Write it down
before it writes you.

Change what you can.
Accept what you cannot.
Learn the difference.
Find the wisdom.
Find the courage.
Find the serenity
that comes from staying.

Face the future—
whether real or imagined,
whether prophecy or trauma
wearing a disguise.

Let the other voice sink back underground—
the one dripping venom,
fed by years of abuse,
by inherited self-loathing
soaked into skin,
into muscle,
into memory.

This body learned survival early.
This brain hardened where it had to.
Scarred—
emotionally, financially, physically—
but still standing.

This mind is done running.
Done pretending
that who I am
is something to escape.

I am a helper.
I help others
and I am learning to help myself.

I do not have to empty my cup
to fill someone else’s.
There is room here—
enough space
to hold others
because I am finally holding myself.

Look for the helpers.
Be a helper.

I am a helper
who asks for help.

And I want to stay angry
because anger feels safer
than grief—
safer than the pain,
the sadness,
the loss
of what cannot be repaired
by the one who broke it.

But I am learning
to brave the depths of my own soul,
to descend instead of recoil,
to name and process the trauma
rather than keep it caged at the surface—

so the pain doesn’t live
one breath away from eruption,
so it doesn’t stay coiled
just beneath my skin,
waiting to spill.

So it can move.
So it can settle.
So it can finally loosen its grip
and make room
for something quieter than survival.

#MentalHealth #CheerMeOn #Grief #Depression #Anxiety #Addiction #MajorDepressiveDisorder #MoodDisorders #SubstanceUseDisorders

Most common user reactions 8 reactions 2 comments
Post

Community

Community.
It’s funny—to step into one
and feel like you should already know how to lead it.
To feel like a mentor by instinct.
A brother, a sister, an auntie.
Someone steady for those searching for family,
for the brokenhearted.

To feel half empty,
spread thin like butter across too much bread,
yet still able to offer more than words—
advice,
a simple meal,
companionship,
love.

To recognize the lost in children and adults alike,
each just trying to isolate a little less,
to be seen without being stared at.
To go from decades of solitude
to dozens of new faces in weeks,
learning how to share pieces of myself
without bleeding out—
pouring carefully, not emptying,
offering warmth without erasure.

---

To have worn so many masks
that my face forgot its own shape.
To have built personalities like scaffolding—
temporary, necessary, exhausting—
only to realize
that being myself
was the only thing anyone needed.

What I have to give
is love, understanding, patience, kindness.
They cost nothing.
They are renewable.
They fill my cup instead of draining it.

So I ask myself:
Is this people-pleasing or relationship-building?
Is it hypervigilance or empathy,
or simply the recognition
that I carry light
and can set it down beside someone else
without losing my own?

Vulnerability is the birthplace of change.
And I am ready.

---

Ready to unmask.
To unburden.
To unravel
and stitch myself back together
with intention.

I am learning and unlearning—
again and again—
that I didn’t have to do it alone,
that I don’t have to do it alone now.

To find the missing pieces.
To melt the gold.
To fill the fractures with love,
therapy,
medication,
with men and women
who see the real me
and do not flinch.

Who watch me stumble and fall
and offer hands, not ultimatums.
Kind words, not commands.

---

To do what my father could not.
To be who he cannot.
To repair what he did not break—
but broke in me.

To unhear and unlearn and unremember
the voice that became my inner weather:

You’re weak.
You’re a pussy.
You hit like a girl.
You’re a retard.

This is what I am paying to excavate
while debating ethics and legality.
If five thousand dollars fell from the sky—
would you catch it?
If it saved you?
If it saved your family?

That question became an argument.
An argument sharp enough
for him to regret my education,
to throw it back at me,
to call it worthless—
while I hold a master’s,
while I have built more with less,
gone further on thinner ground.

I have done more with less help.
I have survived without a net.

---

Emotions are chaotic and messy
when numbness finally cracks.
They arrive loud,
uninvited,
terrifying.

Feel.
Feel.
Feel.
Stay.

Sit with it.
Breathe with it.
Write it down
before it writes you.

Change what you can.
Accept what you cannot.
Learn the difference.
Find the wisdom.
Find the courage.
Find the serenity
that comes from staying.

---

Face the future—
whether real or imagined,
whether prophecy or trauma
wearing a disguise.

Let the other voice sink back underground—
the one dripping venom,
fed by years of abuse,
by inherited self-loathing
soaked into skin,
into muscle,
into memory.

This body learned survival early.
This brain hardened where it had to.
Scarred—
emotionally, financially, physically—
but still standing.

This mind is done running.
Done pretending
that who I am
is something to escape.

---

I am a helper.
I help others
and I am learning to help myself.

I do not have to empty my cup
to fill someone else’s.
There is room here—
enough space
to hold others
because I am finally holding myself.

Look for the helpers.
Be a helper.

I am a helper
who asks for help.

And I want to stay angry
because anger feels safer
than grief—
safer than the pain,
the sadness,
the loss
of what cannot be repaired
by the one who broke it.

But I am learning
to brave the depths of my own soul,
to descend instead of recoil,
to name and process the trauma
rather than keep it caged at the surface—

so the pain doesn’t live
one breath away from eruption,
so it doesn’t stay coiled
just beneath my skin,
waiting to spill.

So it can move.
So it can settle.
So it can finally loosen its grip
and make room
for something quieter than survival.

#MentalHealth #Grief #Abuse #PTSD #Depression #Addiction #SubstanceUseDisorders #MajorDepressiveDisorder

(edited)
Post

I wish I could seriously tell a non-disabled person this. #Blindness #SuicidalThoughts #ChronicFatigue #AutismSpectrumDisorder

I’m really frustrated here right now, I’m going home, and home is very far, as I was in a formation program for software devs.
I couldn’t finish the last exercise of a list, only the first 6 ones were obligatory but I wanted to do all 10 of them, and I got stuck at 10.
It seems like a very little thing to worry about, but it’s not worry, I just have a very rigid brain that tells me I need to finish and do perfect else I’m not good enough.
And I’m already in a position there that I know, even if people say it’s ok, I don’t doubt a single moment that there will be a lot of internalised ableism and a lot of annoyed souls because I’m the first blind person in the program that actually got into it. But then the accessibility is close to none, we’re trying to get by, I’m using the very little bit of sight I have left to try and read with a lot of zoom when I can’t use Orca to read stuff for me. Yes, Orca, Lunix’s discontinued screen reader that gets tweaked from time to time but honestly it’s very much abandoned.
So everyday is me trying to not only do things in a way my brain will see my worth, in the way my brain will accept, because cognitive rigidity is a nightmare and a source of self hate. And then there’s this, being everyday surrounded by sighted people, or some lv1 autistic here and there (at least I think someone might also be on the spectrum). But no one who basically would stop being able to use the computer because is stimming so much that can’t avoid moving their hands and it making the mouse move being impossible to see anything even if you’re sighted. And then go to the restroom because needs to cry and move the whole body until stabilise to be able to do anything.
I wish I could say “try being on my shoes for a single day and feel what I feel” but truth is, I’m very much used to blindness and autism, it’s my everyday life. If a sighted person experiences blindness for a single day only, they would pretty much be even more ableist, because not so much of news but they will not be able to do anything almost. So yeah, to know what means to walk on my shoes, means 23 years and a half dealing with undiagnosed autism, lots of forms of abuse, and progressive vision loss happening abruptly after living a whole life with low vision and only discovering it at 18yo.
Quick editing just to fix an English breaking over there and to clarify that I am a diagnosed autistic, but I was only fully diagnosed after 18yo, so out of these 23 years and a half, 18 would be dealing with undiagnosed autism.
Also, no hate towards lv1 people, it’s just that the difference when it comes to a meltdown or shutdown , and the amount of repetitive movements or sounds, the level difference has a very large and clear line in between.
Also something fun to say: today I confirmed that I really hate umbrellas. I avoided buying one because carrying a cane is already a hand that will be unavailable. Try a cane and an umbrella. It’s indeed a nightmare.

(edited)
Most common user reactionsMost common user reactions 7 reactions 3 comments