In the song “Under Pressure,” Queen and David Bowie sang, “That’s the terror of knowing what this world is about / Watchin’ some good friends screamin’ / “Let me out.” Whether you call it pressure, agita, or stress, it has the ability to impact our lives and our health. According to a study on stress self-management for women with physical disabilities, increased stress illustrates the health-related disparity between disabled and nondisabled people.
In other words, “crip’n” ain’t easy. Before I continue on…I assert that an easy life is not necessarily equated with a good life. All of us have a series of mental, physical, and intellectual “acrobatics” we use to navigate in an inaccessible world. It’s more than ramps and accessible bathrooms. (Although if venues could avoid using them for trash and storage…that would be great!) We have always lived, and continue to live with, as cited in the study, “exclusionary social structures, physical and employment inaccessibility, and financial strain.” This is our normal, and as such, “nearly one half (49%) of adults with disabilities report stress-related adverse health consequences compared to one third of the general population.”
The study notes that a National Health Interview Survey found that disabled women with three or more functional limitations are “10 times more likely to report having difficulty with day-to-day stress than women with no limitations.” For the disability community, that stress translates to less social support and connection, more pain, and can leave us more vulnerable to toxic situations.
A key intervention for stress and its mental and physical health implications, as noted in the study, are supportive relationships, social connectedness, and mutuality of relationships. To paraphrase the Beatles, we “get by with a little help from our friends.”
This is certainly true for me. Social media may be full of noise and cute animal videos, but I would be remiss if I didn’t reference that this is how I have connected with a lot of disabled women/parents who quickly became a safe place for me to find support and solutions.
One of the best illustrations of this was my experience as a first-time mom. At that point I didn’t know any disabled parents. The baby setup I used took a lot of energy just to exist. My able-bodied friends and family were fantastic, but a lot of their solutions involved them doing tasks for me. I was left with almost no “spoons” (a disability community term for energy) by the end of the day. But I found and joined a social media group for moms with cerebral palsy. I could share my experiences and other members were having similar experiences. It was like a light went on. The solutions they helped with for my second child made my life a lot more functional, especially as I was parenting two kids.
Melissa McPherson, author of the inclusive thriller The Lesser Remain, notes that her overall community shrank when she had children. While the non-disabled people in her life are supportive and listen to her concerns, they can’t always understand the situations she’s in because they haven’t had similar experiences. It can feel isolating.
“As a writer, I use my writing to navigate some of these feelings but it is a bit like yelling into a void.” McPherson explains. “I have managed to develop a small community online that is more of a private space and where when I share my experience there is always someone who knows exactly how I feel without me having to explain.” She notes that having a place to go for solutions and solidarity has helped her feel seen and “been a savior to my real-life relationships.”
Nicole Lomerson, also a disabled mom, has found solidarity and connection in her disabled peers as well. As a person with a disability, her life involves a lot of planning ahead. She has put a lot of time and effort into learning how to be productive and emotionally stable during times of uncertainty. She reminds herself that she can do hard things and be the example her daughter needs. Her community ties are key to this.
“The first people I reach out to are my cadre of disabled women who are at a similar life stage to me.” Lomerson explains. “I find solace and comfort in knowing that my peers feel the way I do, and sometimes we feel these changes more acutely than our non-disabled peers.”
As I researched stress coping strategies, results came up for activities like meditation, yoga, exercise, and getting outside. And for what it’s worth, these are all fantastic strategies. But when a random able-bodied person is “so inspired” to see you out grocery shopping, or you’re appealing the denial of a new wheelchair or assistive communication device for the third time, or you’re just having an “off” day for your body or brain, having safe people to talk to who have experienced similar incidents is heartening. Feeling seen and understood is key to working through stressful and uncertain times.
Opinions expressed are solely those of the writer(s) and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Able News at The Viscardi Center and/or The Viscardi Center.