In a story of sorts that appeared in today's paper, a 20 year old woman, who by her own admission looks entirely healthy and fit, felt compelled to complain about people who do not realise that she has a hidden disability.
For some additional irony she complained under a fake name and went on to explain just how hurt she feels whenever she's told off for sitting in the special 'disabled' seats on buses.
Seriously?
It's not that I don't know where this woman is coming from, because I do, but isn't this just one of those things that you'd rather live with, than have things change in any way?
As some of you might have learnt from one of my previous blogs - The Day That Changed My Life Forever ( http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20110910/blogs/the-day-that-changed-my-life-forever.384154 ) - my 30 year old brother has a mental disabilty, and because he's big and well built, we've had more than a few close shaves with danger.
Unlike a person with Down's Syndrome for instance, he looks compeltely normal on the outside, so when he nonchalantly walks up to a stranger and touches his beard (his latest fascination), he could very easily get kicked in the face. The same happens when he stares for too long at somebody's girl, reaches for somebody's ice cream, or invades somebody's space.
Do I get angry when someone tells him off? Of course I do, and sometimes I let out a cuss or two, but truth is, I'm dead wrong!
Fortunately, the majority of people do not have a disability, and it's crazy to expect them to assume that you do when it's not outwardly apparent. And this is a good thing, because if people start assuming that anyone sitting in a special seat is hiding a disability, no one will ever be told off, and there will never be a special seat available for genuine cases.
The solution is one and only one - don't be ashamed of your disability, come to terms with the fact that it's no one's fault and certainly not yours, and whenever you need to defend yourself by flashing your ID, for peace sake, flash it! Keep it tied to your neck on a lanyard, or somewhere handy, and you won't have to say a single word. It's a bright yellow and easily recognisable. Most people will excuse themselves for the intrusion and will probably switch from funny looks to being over helpful.
Unfortunatley, in my brother's case, the flashing of the card usually comes just after he's touched a stranger's shaved head (his second latest fascination), and thus a tad too late, but, honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.