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http://elegantlyrebellious.tumblr.com/post/100499391835/ive-had-enough-of-being-alienated-and-belittled

elegantlyrebellious:

I’ve had enough of being alienated and belittled at every given opportunity.

I told my family that I’m tired of being stigmatised because of my agoraphobia, anxiety, mild OCD, and depression (yes, it’s another one of those posts). I have done everything that I can to try and educate them just…

I just want to say that you should not end it there. Admittedly, I have tons of curse words to describe how your parents treated you, and I consider none of them to be work-safe enough for this text post. While it seems like they’re never going to be truly there for you, we still are. You’re free to cry on my virtual shoulder for as long as you like. Just don’t ever think that ending it all is better than moving on.

professorfangirl:

lupusdraconis:

usagimaree:

gobeautiful:

thelatestkate:

my therapist taught me to start thinking of my anxiety as my panicky friend

it’s working???

this is so cute omg

Woah this is super useful!!

For all my anxious friends out there.

This totally works! Some of us get stuck in the sense that we *are* our emotions, so they overwhelm us and we can’t do anything about them. When you give your emotion an identity separate from you, it gives you the distance to make better judgments about it, and to comfort yourself better. 10/10 therapy veterans would recommend.

dogslug:

fatassvegan:

boo-author:

starklyinaccurate:

crohns-sucks:

neecygrace:

Today’s picture for invisible illness is a personal one. This is one of about 30 notes that my friend has received since using her handicapped placard. I’m going to say this to you, have you ever seen someone get out of a car parked in a handicapped space and said to yourself “they look too young or they don’t look disabled.” I’m going to go with yes you have, because we all have at one time. I can’t remember doing it, but before I understood the difficulties of invisible illness when I was younger I probably did. Let me ask you this though, when you had that thought was it because you knew with 100% certainty that they weren’t handicapped or did you assume that because of their age and/or not seeing a cane, walker or wheelchair? All I’m asking is that we stop and think when we someone need a mobility aid, park in a handicapped space or say they are disabled that we remember this “DISABILITY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH AGE OR APPEARNACE.” #spoonie #invisibleillness #disability #chronicillness #rheumatoidarthritis #lupus #fibromyalgia #myofascialpainsyndrome

If nothing else, this post needs to be seen around the internet more. This harassment is not okay and no one should have to deal with it on top of having an invisible illness. This is just another form of anonymous bullying to add to the internet bullying these TROLLS are capable of.

If you are healthy, please reblog.
If you are sick, please reblog.
If you have a disability, please reblog.
If you have an invisible illness, please reblog.
If you know someone with a disability, please reblog.
If you are a human being, please reblog.

Let’s spread the word and help those of us that may not look like it. 

Ignorance isn’t bliss, ignorance is ignorance. 

And people ask me why I am afraid to use my cane in public.

Being disabled, visibly so is always dangerous

When I got my first cane and posted about it, I had people demanding to know why I thought I “deserved” it at my age.

That was the word.

"Deserved".

This is the kind of bullshit that made my dad, a man who dealt with crippling pain from degenerative disc disorder, afraid to apply for handicapped parking

I remember saying to him that he could get handicapped plates and hearing him say that it wasn’t “bad enough” as I watched him wince and hobble as he walked from the back of the parking lot

People internalize these ideas, even handicapped people, that’s why this is so fucking important

This post has good timing. I went to the store with my sister the night before last and even though my knees hurt so bad I -had- to push the cart to have something to lean on I couldn’t bring myself to use one of the motor scooter things because I just KNEW someone would give me shit for riding in one and being fat. Instead I hobbled around the store in pretty bad pain.

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