Stuck.

Being disabled involves a lot of trusting others, no matter how many times you are let down by people, they’ll be something else you need so someone else you have to trust.

It doesn’t stop hurting or making you angry when you are let down.

I had a freezer which the cat decided to poop behind, I asked someone to check if they had pood there, they said they hadn’t, they did. And now it’s been so long, there’s nothing I can do about it.

In many ways, I don’t like this house, but there’s nothing I can do about it. What I want is pretty simply, but pretty simply things seem impossible when you can’t do them yourself.

My last concert

Almost a week I attended what will be my last concert, and it has taken me a week to fund the strength to write about it, due to just how automatic the experience was.

Music is a freeing experience for me, it is one of few places in this world where i do not feel constricted by my disability, where I do not feel disabled. But concerts often have the reverse effect, and they really did this time.

I went to a Dean Lewis concert, and I suppose as final concerts go it was a good way to finish a bad run. I made the mistake of going back to a venue I already knew was inaccessible to me, by this I mean that although the venue was technically wheelchair accessible, I knew the view it would provide me with wasn’t. Contrary to popular belief just because the venue in wheelchair accessible, doesn’t actually mean it will provide an accessible view to wheelchair users.

I was told previously that I would be able to go on the main floor when visiting that venue again, after my first very poor experience of it. However, when I went this time, I was told this was not possible due to there being no risk assessment of a wheelchair user being on the main floor. I found this confusing as I can’t really understand why I would have been previously given permission to do something that I was never going to be able to do due to lack of risk assessment.

I also don’t really understand why I’m more of a risk in a crowd full of people than the drunk people in that crowd are. Of the many concerts I’ve been to at this point, I’ve never once been the person that needed help of any kind. It isn’t about my safety. It is about the venues, fear of being sued. I argue that I in fact more safe to be in that crowd than many other people, once I’m in it, I do not move. And surely the people within the crowd have some responsibility for their own safety, is it not their job to ensure that they are not injured by someone in a still and unmoving wheelchair?

We really need to move past the idea of the accessibility for disabled people is just getting them into the building, that’s it’s just taking a box to say we tried. In some ways this is where the legal requirement for accessibility hold us back. People don’t actually consider the accessibility of a venue as long as it meets these legal requirements and the legal requirements are outdated and basic.

I cannot put myself through this again, I’m scared if I keep trying it’ll ruin music for me. Music saved my life. I’ll take a lot of it that’s freeing, over a little more of it that’s debilitating.

Disabled people deserve fun. And I’m tired of that being an argument. I’m tired of nice excuses, and lovely people not be able to do anything about it, and feeling bad. But nothing changes because no one sees that it should.

I just want to dance.

The venue was – The Victoria Warehouse,

Why are accessible services so complicated?

So I’ve been trying to get on to a transport service in my local area, specifically aimed at those who would struggle to use public transport or drive for whatever reason. While they are technically accessible if you use a wheelchair, like most of the things in society, they are still extra complicated for wheelchair users.

I expect things to be more complicated when I try to access them as a wheelchair user, but there’s something that little bit more annoying when trying to access a service specifically aimed at people like me. You would just think they’d be more prepared, that they would know what they were doing. That there would be less steps, if anything,,but definitely not me.

I know I’ll get through all the extra nonsense yet again and be able to use the service. But there’s just so much of it, and it keeps happening. It really feels like society is punishing me sometimes for being disabled.

Sometimes disabled people need to travel together.

But unfortunately, public transport is rarely built for us to do this. And neither our taxis, in reality.

The truth is society doesn’t really seem to want disabled people to travel anywhere, never mind together. but sometimes we’ve got to do what we’ve go to do just like everybody else sometimes travelling with the disabled people.

It’s funny, in that way that’s not funny, that I’m here justifying travelling as a necessity, because doing any thing for fun is just unthinkable as a disabled person.

But public transport really needs to be accommodating of more than one visibly disabled person at a time. Can you image if it only accommodated one (visibly) non-disabled person at a time? Society would all be mad and be saying it’s a waste of money, but when it’s disabled people it’s justifiable.

To make matters worse society often pushes disabled people together, especially when we’re young, they believe we should all be friends. And maybe that’s because they don’t want us to be friend with non-disabled people, but they don’t want to feel guilty for us having no friends.

I don’t know if this is true, but it is something I’ve always believed. I’ve definitely had non-disabled people introduce me to disabled people with the assumption that we’re going to be friends just because we’re both disabled.

And then they create a society that’s not designed to have us in it together. Which honestly makes no sense.

Can we not give advice to people that didn’t ask for any?

I don’t understand why people do it. That’s a lie I do understand it. I just don’t like it.

Today someone gave me “advice” that I didn’t ask for, and it’s less what they said and more the implications that came with what they said.

I was travelling with someone else who need some assistance to walk independently. This could not be achieved safely on the pavements, due to the uneven nature of the pavements, and so it was safer for us to be in the road.

But someone decided to pull up and inform me that doing this was dangerous. The way you would tell a child not to walk in the road, or play in the street as they say.

Firstly I am an adult. I am cable of keeping myself, and the person I was with, safe. You wouldn’t assume a non- disabled person wasn’t able to do this, so why are you assuming this of a disabled person?

Secondly, if you see a disabled person doing something you don’t understand, don’t immediately assume they’re doing it wrong. A lot of disabled people learn how to do things safely, but differently to how you might consider something should be done. You’d be better of assuming that they just know what they’re doing unless you are sure they aren’t.

I promise you, no disabled person, and especially no wheelchair user, is going in the road for fun. Pavements are a lot less accessible than you might realise.

I promise I know how to exist in an inaccessible world as a disabled person. I’ve been doing it long enough.

Your advice isn’t needed or wanted, and is frankly very insulting.

Concert equality example

Why is it not fair to assume that those that need accessibility seats at concerts have the same chance of getting tickets for a show than those that don’t. The answer is it’s simply not true.

On top of the fact that disabled people, who need accessibility seats, are massively limited in where they can sit in a venue and they can only go with one person. Is the fact that there isn’t as many tickets available to them as non-disabled people. In fact the numbers are dramatically different, I’ve worked out an example to show you.

I did some rough maths (I can’t do the actual figures because of course they hide them) to show you just have few accessible seats there are at the AO Arena as one example.

They’re 4 blocks in the ao arena which have accessible seating. There’s roughly 650 seats per block. I took one block and then rounded down as they’re are smaller blocks. So if every seat in the AO arenas 4 blocks was accessible, which it clearly isn’t they’d be 2600 seats for disabled people. To match the roughly 20% of disabled people in society (the figures actually 24% of people are disabled but not everyone’s going to go to a concert) this means to match the capacity of the arena they’re should be 4600 accessible seats. Split across the blocks they’re should be 13 blocks of completely accessible seating. And if you think there’s ever that you never been to a music venue. Usually maybe 30 seats in a block are accessible split across the 4 blocks that’s 120 seats because I guessed let’s say 200 give them the benefit of the doubt. Still nowhere near the 4600 there should be.

And yes I know it’s not perfect. They hide the figures so disabled people don’t have exact numbers to prove to you all how unfair it actually is. And not all disabled people are going to need access tickets. But even with these rough figures the AO arena has less than 5% of the amount of accessible tickets it should have to reflect the percentage of disabled people in society.

Having us in the room is not equality, it is not the equity we deserve. We deserve to have the same number of tickets available to us as non-disabled people do. We deserve to have fun, we deserve to have friends, we deserve to have fun with our friends.

It’s the only place I get to be me.

Why do you blog?

While, I started this blog with the more specific topic of accessibility, it has become more about my life generally. I thought that I started it initially as a place to share inaccessibilities that I experience in my life, starting with this more specific topic, hoping it would keep me writing. I did this specifically as I have tried and failed at blogging for a continued period of time. But for some reason, this blog stuck, and it’s still going.

I think it leant itself towards my life experiences generally and some other bits of writing. And trying to post daily blog posts, though I have had to backdate a few became a clear motivator in keeping me writing. As well as giving me something in the day that felt like my own, and if I’m really honest with myself something that it didn’t feel like my disability prevented me from completing.

My blog has become my space to write about the things I feel in a more free way. And though I don’t feel completely free to share everything openly here, it is one of the places I feel most free on all of the internet.

And now because I haven’t slept, I’m going for a nap. Have a good Saturday.

I miss swimming

I used to do a lot of hydrotherapy as a child but of course it’s only paid for when you’re a child so I haven’t been able to go in 10 years. But I loved being in the water, and I miss it so much.

Swimming or simply being in the water is something everyone should get to enjoy and pools being accessible is a big part of this. All pools should be as accessible as possible to everyone. And it should be common sense that any equipment needed to make them this way should also be functioning.

Image Description: A Facebook Screenshot from a post by Misa On Wheels. The post shows a picture of a pool hoist over a pool. The text above the picture reads “Accessibility PSA – Having a pool lift is only useful if it is not perpetually out of order.”

My phone

What is the most important thing to carry with you all the time?

I know how that sounds but bare with me.

My phone, the internet, and social media, it is how I access the world. There’s no other way I can do so without help, there’s no other place I can be me the way I want to.

My phone also gets me help when I need it.

It’s not unfair to say that it’s my lifeline.

So don’t judge people who live through the Internet, judge the rest of the world for making it there only option.