I am disabled.
It's not a value judgment; it's a neutral fact. The ways in which my brain and body work, or don't work, make my life more difficult.
Frequently, and particularly in reference to my neurodivergences, people will try to comfort me. "You're not disabled, you're just differently abled!"
First of all, contrary to popular belief, neurodivergence, and autism in particular, is not a radioactive spider bite that magically makes me good at particle physics or playing piano. The idea of an autistic savant is heavily reinforced by popular media like The Big Bang Theory and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, but it is not applicable to the vast majority of neurodivergent people. And for those of us who are not savants, neurodivergence does not provide us with a whole lot of cool superpowers, unless we're counting sensory overload, hyperfixation, and/or bluntness.
Second of all, neurodivergence is a disability for me and many other neurodivergent people. That doesn't mean we resent being neurodivergent, for the most part; we just acknowledge that it makes things difficult. Autism means that I get overwhelmed in busy and loud spaces, that I often don't know the right things to say in sensitive situations, that I frequently struggle to make myself do even tasks that I enjoy or that would have no negative impact on me. ADHD means that I forget what I'm supposed to be doing a hundred times a day, that I have five different systems to remember things and still forget, that I can't focus if things are too quiet or too loud, that I hyperfixate on things to the point of forgetting to pee, sleep, and eat. Both of them also have comorbidities with things like digestive issues, sleep disorders, and other chronic illnesses that are disabling in their own ways. Both of them are also comorbid with mental illnesses like anxiety and depression, which are in turn enhanced by my chronic illnesses. Disabilities within disabilities. And all this doesn't even account for my physical disabilities.
It is okay for me to call myself disabled. It's what I am. It doesn't mean I don't live a good and fulfilling life, it just means that my life requires more and different supports from someone else's. Telling me not to call myself disabled is not the kindness you think it is; what you really mean is either that you don't think my conditions are disabling enough to qualify, or that you think disability is inherently bad.
My disabilities are a part of who I am. So before you tell me I'm not disabled, think about why you think that.
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