Language is the strength at the base of the pillar of any society. Our idiomatic template defines our approach; not just to how we communicate, but how we perceive.
The terms ‘Disabled’ and ‘Mental Health’ are inherently toxic by their nature; as we are thus led to think, by the linguistic moral consensus, that there is a baseline for what is good, true, able, healthy…when in reality, there’s too much emphasis placed on ‘being well’ in a society – and this language comes from the top down and affects us all – when all we’re really subscribing to is the false notion of comfort. Ill-defined. Unattainable. Exclusive and reductive.
We all push forwards to the ideal where our peers, neighbours, or passersby can see us as either functional members of society; or failing that attempt, where they can see our legit qualifications for being broken. So those looky-loos are less likely to hassle us for what they perceive as our damage.
Having lived with invisible illnesses at least knowingly for the better part of five years, I’ve had my share of struggles. Struggles to just function, let alone to justify the glitches in between to an elaborate audience of people who think they know better than me about what’s happening with my body – that includes friends, family, lecturers, business associates, employers, doctors. They can’t see the pretence I put up, that I’m ok, that I’m not dizzy and about to pass out, that I know every inch I push my body further to ‘power through’ will cause me damage later on. That doesn’t make it any less legitimate than someone in a wheelchair. In fact, my experience of supposedly ‘disabled’ colleagues is that they’re infinitely more outgoing and worldly than I, more witty and intelligent, popular, more able to process even basic emotional transactions my energy condition predisposes me to struggle with.
So who’s the able one? The one who can easily and quickly justify their existence to the X-rays and eyes of the world, or the one who struggles to get up after frustratingly modest exertion?
The truth is, it’s not a race. It’s not about abilities we can or can’t judge, assess, and quantify with eyes or a microscope. That whole approach is toxic.
So let’s stop pointing fingers as to who’s healthy, who’s able, who’s weak or strong.
It’s resilience and wellbeing, not mental health. It’s not disability; it’s none of your business. Live and let live; and perhaps, if we’re to judge, it should be on the choices we make and not the things we can’t change.
So that had to go too.
My monkey brain thought, ‘what’s next, what do I replace this commonly used expression with?’
This thought process was immediately replaced with the realisation we need to stop shaming people for what we see as ‘weak’ or ‘less’; for failing to live up to an unattainable and pointless ideal that most of us would rather be able to grow beyond subscribing to.
So before you judge, question how and why you’re doing it. Look beyond the momentary. We’ll all be much more able and healthy when that energy sinks in.
Words: Counting To Zero
