Disabled people write about abuse they have suffered in public

Via the Guardian:

Isobel Glenelg:

My MS has progressed, and I'm now obliged to use crutches.

When I first appeared in public using them reactions were mixed, but mostly I found I'd suddenly become draped in Harry Potter's invisibility cloak: studiously ignored. This suited me fine.

Then last summer, things changed.

Articles in the red-tops talked about disabled scroungers living the life of Riley on hardworking taxpayers' cash. The day after the tabloids screamed "free BMWs for disabled", I stupidly left my house to go to the supermarket.

Returning to my car, I found a boot-shaped hole had been kicked in the front bumper. I've hesitated to display my blue badge since.

My patience has run out with those who feel they have the divine right to interrogate me.

When it first occurred I usually responded politely, now I just hobble away as quickly as I can.

I certainly feel there's a correlation between the tabloid "disabled scrounger" splashes and the increase in verbal abuse.

On days when the media runs anti-disabled stories, it's safest to stay indoors...

Philippa Willitts:

A few months ago, I was followed by a man I had never met before. For the length of the street where I live, he shouted "fucking DLA stick!" at me every few seconds.

At first I didn't understand, but then I realised he was referring to the crutch I use to help me walk. He thought I was using the crutch fraudulently in order to claim benefits, specifically disability living allowance (DLA).

...Who would carry a big, unwieldy metal stick around with them at all times for a few pounds a week?

Don't get me wrong, it is invaluable to me – it enables me to get out and about, not fall over too often, and helps a little with pain.

But it also causes almost constant injury to my wrist and elbow, and it reduces my dexterity.

In shops, once you have the crutch in one hand and the basket in another, you soon realise that you need a third to pick things up.

Nonetheless, it gives me independence and I wouldn't – couldn't – be without it. But to this stranger, it symbolised something he hated. He was furious as he shouted at me.

The "scrounger" rhetoric meant that he didn't even consider that I might be genuinely disabled.

In his eyes, I was stealing taxpayers' money with my wily use of fake neurological problems, and as such, I deserved everything I got. I still worry that he might reappear and do it again.

Emma Round:

...People also regularly approach me to ask questions like "do you really need that wheelchair or are you doing it for the money?" and "I saw you move your leg! Are you just too lazy to walk?".

Last December my city held a big Christmas market and I decided to attend. I was told to "go home" repeatedly and mocked loudly by various people. I came home and cried and couldn't go near the city centre again for some time.

Everywhere I go I'm subjected to a grilling from strangers about my disability, my employment prospects and my lifestyle choices.

I feel like I have to defend myself because if I don't they assume I'm a faker, but in doing so I have to share painful personal details.

I have developed a fear of being left alone in my chair because that's when people most often come to "talk to me" – just to make sure it's real...

Krishna Talsania:

I was born with the genetic muscle-wasting condition Charcot-Marie Tooth disease.

I don't outwardly appear disabled, yet the muscles in my legs and arms are weakening and wasting away.

This has left me with problems with balance, unable to walk long distances and struggling to stand for long periods of time.

Before Christmas, I parked my car in a disabled bay near a medical centre. A woman driver stopped and asked me whether the blue badge was mine. Three men got out of her car and approached me.

I stood alone, in the dark, surrounded by four adults who began shouting their judgment of my disability squarely in my face.

I can't bring myself to take my car out alone any more.