Member-only story
I’m inhuman. What do I do?
The shame of being disabled
Content warning: this article comes with a content warning for mental illness.
Some of us were nonverbal. At least I’m not that.
I mean, sometimes I trip over a word, shove them together in a syllable. And sometimes I’m LOUD. You can’t be loud and nonverbal.
Some of us are loud. Not just in words. Often not in words. Sometimes in breath. Sometimes in fits. Sometimes in performances of fits and breathes that are produced by terrible actors.
My pulse is getting fast.
When I was a teenager, I
When I was a kid, I was a
I went to a school for special needs. My disability is simply called “slow processing.” Now, I tell people I have dyslexia or ADD. Sometimes it feels like that, and it’s easier to say. Sometimes, I stare at words so long I get frustrated and move on to other words. I have to double back and read the word I’m still having trouble with. Then the sentence clicks into place in the wrong order. It’s funny.
I’m “slow.” I have trouble making decisions. I don’t always understand the choice, and when I do, I don’t want people to think I’m imposing because I have already made them wait for me.
