#bc i can't make changes to my rented house to make it wheelchair accessible (it has a FUCKING SPIRAL STAIRCASE)

[trans-cuchulainn]

i just booked to view two flats (to buy) (i'm probably not going to buy them) (i would only be co-buying them even if i did bc i can't afford a mortgage) (they're in a good location though it would be way nearer to useful things even if there's still no bus) and they asked me no questions beyond contact details when i called them about a viewing. is that normal. shouldn't they have tried to check i'm serious. i had all my answers prepared re: the finances and they didn't care

[psychologeek]

So, on my last fic I added somethings from my personal experience, as both disabled (though I don't use a wheelchair) and past youth at risk. And just, it got important to me, and I wanted to share it.

It's Barbara Gordon focused, and even though it's not JUST about her recovery, it's still part of it.

And it's just - it's really important to me. You CAN grieve what you'll never be, and what might have been taken from you. And you CAN be happy and proud as a disabled person. And both CAN co-exist at the same time.

I'm proud to be who I am (mostly). I think I'm going to a good place in life. But it doesn't change the fact that sometimes I hate the fact I need help in things, or the way my brain works, or how people don't seem to understand when I say-this is HARD for me.

And it's something that we can't usually show out. Bc when the world keep pushing you down, telling you you're wrong, unworthy, unable - you can only FIGHT or surrender. So we go out there, saying "no, I'm strong! No, I can do this! I'm great! I wouldn't change a thing!" And sometimes it's true. And sometimes it's less true, but we can't tell this to "outsiders" bc THEY DON'T GET IT.

Anyway, this is my take on Barbara Gordon. I hope you like this.

There are things (walking, running, grappling through the city at night, wind in her hair- ) she'll never do again. Other skills (dressing, washing, moving from one place to another-) she had to re-learn, finding new ways to do what was so easy before. It's been years, and she graduated college, even with the injury. (Study on painkillers, reading while doing the PT exercise). She got a job as a librarian. She learned new skills (rolling, coding, how to be the eye-in-the-sky, and coordinating big and small teams-). She's not the same person as she was. ("You evolved", grins the fifteen years old little shit who still lives, rent-free, in her head. "You're like a fucking Pokemon!")

I'm not a wheelchair user, but I had to use one for a few days last month. I use forearm crutches sometimes, for injuries or chronic pain. And I just thought it would be nice to add how much accessibility aids are AMAZING. Like, being disabled is hard - but it's not bc of the aids we need. On the contrary. Mobility (and other) aids HELP US. I love using crutches, bc it means less pain on bad days. It means I CAN leave my house, even during bad days. noise-blocking Headphones mean I can be around people even when things are harder.

I also tried to respect the grief and sadness about things that she can't do, or had to relearn how to do (differently) while showing it's not the end. It's hard, but things are possible.

[I hope it makes sense. Thinking is a little hard now]

***

The Back Room and Shelter are inspired by places I used to go as a teen. The BR, especially, is based on a specific YaR center that was my safe place, my shelter, during difficult times as a teen. When I didn't, couldn't trust anyone they were there. When I ran away, when I was homeless, they helped with food and getting housing.

They'll never read it, but thank you for being there.