How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

VD: The background shows a dark blue, white and teal mandala. Ama is a black person with brown , and black locs tipped with blonde . There are little rose Quartz crystals on the ends of a few locs, and cowry shells on others. There is a little black mole between their eyebrows. They sound tired and are talking thickly through pain. They are wearing a Honeywell niosh N95 mask, lying in bed. They are discussing their journey with ableism and internalized ableism.

Its basic survival that I keep rolling around in my head the possibilities of what I could do. It makes sense, despite that I have to take care of myself, I have to be my own voice of reason.

That means pacing, leaving space for joy and being okay with a resounding scream at the sky when necessary.

When you take good care of yourself, the result is some relief-and waiting at reliefs doorstep is often doubt and ableism.

I don’t think the doubt is natural, in the way survival is…but it’s an offshoot of survival in a capitalist society. So I ask “well what could I do, who could I be? How do I monetize me? It is incredibly difficult to contend with the reality that perhaps I will not and that needing to is a violence , that I and others are experiencing.

It is only natural to evade violence enacted against us . Poverty is state sanctioned violence. The reactions to this are of course varied and often demeaning or detrimental.

When what ails you is beyond reach, when your voice holds less weight in common settings, that violence begins to be enacted internally. On oneself.

This is internalized ableism.

I ask…even if you can, should you?

Who or what asks for self harm in service of it? Should I be serving it?

Even in my self deprecating thoughts capitalism finds a foothold.

This is grief.

This is violence.

-🌹