Wes-Confessions of a Bad Cripple

When I was asked to write for Crippled is Beautiful I was told I could write whatever I wanted with exception of profanity and negativity. These rules frankly are like disabling me all over again. Not going to lie, I have now been writing, rewriting and then scrapping this thing for about three weeks now, trying to find something, some shred of positivity about being disabled that I can grab onto and turn into words and I don’t have it. 

The truth is I have been a bad cripple. I haven’t played the role. Born small in 76, I maxed out at 4ft10 with Arthrogryposis leaving my legs like 30% of what legs should be and the rest of my joints not right to varying degrees. I tried, I’m sure I tried to be the “He doesn’t know he’s not a regular kid” cripple for the first few years because I remember overhearing people saying it. But I always knew, I think we all always know really. Around the age of ten I realized that I didn’t really belong and tried to kick the “regular kid” thing up to 11. By the age of thirteen, I realized I was never going to be allowed to be Regular, as even when I was regular well meaning adults would go out of their way to publicly praise me for how Regular I tried to be. Around that time I found the secret to make all that garbage go away, no one praises you for being Regular if they don’t like your attitude. Want to make that Abelist praise go away quick and easy? Try developing an attitude that’s a healthy mix of underachiever and proud of it and Johnny Rotten wrapped in broken glass. I highly recommend F bombing a French Teacher after school hours and riding out an in school suspension like it’s a paid vacation. It comes down to this, they stop praising the Little Cripple Boy when he’s no longer cute. 

I have been a bad Cripple. In my life I have called myself a Punk, an artist, an anarchist, a man, a Mother F’er. A good guy, bad guy I have identified as so many things. But I have almost never identified as a person with a disability. Anyone trying to get me to address my disability for the most part may as well have been pulling out their own teeth because that at least would have yielded results. Even with living off a disability pension since the age of 29 I have refused disability as identity. I have been a bad cripple, I don’t like it, I never have I never will. To me there are zero advantages to my disability and I would not recommend it to anyone who has a choice in the matter. I don’t find myself particularly brave for not quitting. If I am brutally honest, I've felt ashamed and spiteful  of my condition, at how my body has failed me and in the ways I have failed myself. I am not where I should be in my life because much like my legs I can’t seem to make things work right. 

So then why am I here giving this confession? Because I am trying to change, because I have a best friend who I keep pulling my teeth out to try and get her to be herself out in the world and it would be hypocritical for me to not do the same. Also, to be frank, I'm even more tired of ignoring being a cripple than I am of being crippled. I’ve watched the orange man in a cheap suit mock us on the largest stage. I have watched my local leaders say we shouldn’t leave the house and hack our funding to bits. I see kids like I was now growing up and being turned into mass inspiration porn online and as bait to collect Amen’s in the comments section. I see two legged cats on The Dodo being compared to us. I see Normal people using our daily lives with the tagline What's Your Excuse? So I guess the positivity of this blog is that I am done being a Bad Cripple but I am not about to behave either. I am going to start to do my part, take my place as a straight up O.G Cripple. Is this negative? I dunno, I guess we will see.