[Wednesday]

I recently became an ambulatory wheelchair user and am feeling like a big imposition at any social event. So I’m not going to any. Not sure how to break myself out of this pattern.

[SummerDay]

I think the biggest hurdle is not thinking of yourself as an imposition. Wheelchairs take up space, but anyone who actually cares about you isn't going to see it as taking up space, if that makes sense. They want YOU there. And they'll see you, not the chair.

I've never been in a wheelchair, aside from hospital stuff, so I've never had to navigate the world in one. But if a friend felt like they couldn't come out to an event because they felt like they're imposing with their chair, I'd be heartbroken. I don't know how to break out of the pattern, aside from just going. Even if it's just one event, or one place that you know is "easier" for chair use. Sort of like getting your feet wet navigating places in it. Go to one, and then another, and another, just easing into it but starting at places you know are chair-friendly. That might help to get you in a frame of mind where the chair feels less like an imposition and you get more comfortable going places with it.

But YOU are not an imposition. That's the biggest thing to remember.

[Wednesday]

I'm trying to remember my philosophy to treat myself with the kindness I'd show a friend. But I can't always get there. I'm probably my own worst friend.

[SummerDay]

I'm probably my own worst friend.

You and me, both.

[somewhereroo]

In a similar vain, I think its worthwhile to show up for those with invisible conditions too.

I have a pretty diverse circle of people around me who have different physical abilities and mental health backgrounds. I think it's really important to learn to accommodate them as well.

No one owes anyone an explanation or proof of their disability or condition.

I had a friend with a fish allergy recently get "shrimped," as she puts it, at a restaurant. She had to run out to her vehicle to grab her EpiPen in case she needed it. Thankfully, she didn't. She got wheezy and broke out in a rash, but what struck me afterward was how profusely she apologized. She was horrified we'd think she was lying because people in her life had accused her of that before.

I told her, "you're my friend. It's not my job to play doctor and make you convince me of anything."

And I think that applies to invisible conditions in general. Are there people who lie? Sure. But unless you're a professional and it's literally your responsibility to evaluate someone's condition, you don't need to appoint yourself to that job. Same with the LGBTQ community. No one owes you an explanation for why they identify a certain way. If they want to share, and they feel safe to share, they probably will.

I'd rather occasionally extend grace to someone who didn't need it than make someone who does need it prove they're suffering enough to deserve it.

[Weighty]

That's a great point. I also look at it this way -- if someone feels the need to lie about something like that (or anything really) it can speak to something far deeper and more painful that they are going through.

So, to me, it doesn't really matter. If someone either really has a disability or makes one up, that can also be construed as a mental health struggle they are having, so in reality, it IS a sort of temporary or maybe permanent disability they've never been diagnosed with or treated for.

We should treat folks the way they want to be treated (that's the platinum rule, and it supersedes the golden one!), and if for some reason they feel uncomfortable in their own skin for a time, need our support for something they are dealing with, or feel the need to even "make something up" to avoid pain, embarrassment or a shortcoming they think they have, that speaks to the same level of kindness, openness, and acceptance we'd all want at certain times in our life whenever we're going through something.