𝔞𝔷𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔤𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔩𝔶𝔫 𝔨𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔫 🕷️🍂

hey whatever happened to that impotent effort biden and buttigieg made to try and convince the airlines (rather than force them) to make airliners wheelchair accessible without people having to be separated from their chairs and have them beaten to death in the baggage hold and murdering people by destroying their aids

i am presently incandescent with rage because i remembered last month i ran into a guy on the city bus who was stuck with a loaner powered chair because the airlines ruined his and we had to help him up and down the ramp because the motor on that thing was so fucking gutless, and then i remembered the disability advocate the airlines killed this way, and then i remembered my friend Sawyer of NASASpaceFlight's tales of how the airlines fucked him over while flying and i am currently wondering if mr "nothing will fundamentally change" ever got anywhere with his efforts

they are "looking into it", per this wapo article

i wish i could add more air quotes to that for how much i believe them

i have basically just been asleep, the last three days. 😵‍💫

haven't had the strength to do anything else.

and i still seem to be actively grieving over recent events, even as i want nothing more than to forget that i ever met her.

"recent" in that they concluded one month ago.

feels like five times that—not in terms of things fading and becoming more vague, but in terms of how long i have been dealing with these feelings, continually being ground down all day every day.

though i guess that's been all year.

i've been feeling unwanted and manic and strung-along since late last may. combine that with my disabilities really starting to devolve in june, and it's been a long time since i was in a good place.

everything hurts, in every way, always.

it's often too much to be awake for.

obviously cutting that poison out of my life is better than continuing to live in denial as to how much she was hurting me and whether she would ever treat me like a real person. but admitting it was never gonna happen just made me feel more alone and deeply broken than ever.

it's funny. after my final message to her and before i thought to block her and then delete all our correspondence, she sent me one final haughty lecture in place of any actual recognition of me as a human being—and in it, she was so confused as to why i would cut her off now.

like, she really seemed to expect i would want to keep her around to continue hurting me after the way she treated me for the best part of a year and then dumped me out of nowhere for the most galaxy-brained bullshit reasons. talked as if this was the most baffling response ever

i'm just.

i don't know what to do with this sense of betrayal. a month later, it's continuing to mess up how i see and respond to everything else. my basic sense of trust, in myself and in others, is undermined so as to basically paralyze me. i don't know what to think anymore.

i keep thinking of one of her friends subtweeting me, calling me "pathetic" for still being so broken-up after a week. and it's like.

seriously, what the fuck is wrong with these people?

hipsters can all go jump in a pool with their modular synths.

a disability activist whose only real concern is that she always get to be entertained precisely the way she wants to, when she wants to, without fuss or compromise.

like. this is her basic life motivation. applied to any life situation, this is all she cares about on any level.

other disabled people tangibly suffering, having trouble with living? beyond uninterested—that's no fun to hear about and gives her weird feelings.

hey, she managed to live this long; if others are struggling, they just aren't trying hard enough. they need to fix their attitude.

a whole life structured around ensuring she never needs to contend with weird feelings for a moment. around never permitting the desperate improv show to end, or get meaningfully derailed, lest in the silence she might hear herself think all the difficult thoughts of a lifetime.