No One Would Want Me If They Knew the Real Disabled Me
I have thought that no one would want me if they knew the real me for, oh, my whole life. It’s not because I’m an ax-murderer or puppy-hater or anything; it’s just because I’m me, and “me” is very messy, indeed. The inner life of a bipolar can be torture. And then there’s whatever Natasha has to offer on top of it. And then there’s Ehler’s-Danlos. And then there’s fibromyalgia. And, really, I thought no one would want me before those last two really asserted themselves, so I can only imagine how undesirable I am now. But one thing I know is that many people think that no one would want them if they knew the real them. Specifically, I know that many disabled people think that no one would want them if they knew the real them. But do disabilities — bipolar disorder or otherwise — stand in the way of being desirable?
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