Attractive Person Privilege and Giving People Shit

You may find a picture of me on Facebook. I really don’t feel like posting one on here anyway. Today I will bitch about attractive person privilege. As an attractive person, most people are clueless about how I have three chronic illnesses. I don’t look sick. Please read up on the Spoon theory here: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/.

I’m hot so therefore I don’t look sick. I have to tell people how many spoons I have for that day. Sometimes I run out of spoons. I do not always have energy to do whatever. My anxiety is pretty chronic too so make that four. PTSD can happen, making that 5 although those symptoms really are something I have beaten.

Most people would like to think people with disabilities are not into sex also but my boyfriend happens to think I’m hot. I didn’t get a senior picture. I don’t want to get into that too much right now. It was a mess at home.

I have type 1 diabetes. That’s a big one. I have to take insulin all day long just to stay alive. Nobody gets that because all they see is a hot person. I could be taken out of the gene pool at any time if my insulin stops working. Nobody gives a shit about that. I also have hypothyroidism. Shutting off my period is a great idea. I am not a breeder. I do not want kids. People ask me why about that. I tell them I don’t want to pass on the crazy or the psychic. I can barely teach myself how to ground. Imagine teaching a child with schizophrenia the difference between delusions and real impressions. My kid could wind up really angry too. It would be a crime for me to have a child. I’m under the impression that my parents need medication as well. You have no idea what’s going at home right now. I can see their crazy.

This year I have resolved to stop being an adversarial bitch to my diabetes. The constant condemnation I do in my head doesn’t help me have stable blood sugars. I’m getting older and in martial arts class I find myself doing way more knee push-ups than arm push-ups. I’m almost 35 and hardly look my age. I do however, act my age. I try to be athletic daily because that stabilizes my blood sugar. I resent idiots like somebody at orientation who decided she wanted to help me by picking up my lancet. I hissed at her not to pick it up.  Hopefully that was intimidating.

I resent it when people think I need help taking care of myself. That’s a load of shit. Also, I resent pity parties or condescending behavior. I bitch at people for all three of the deadly sins toward Iria. Of course my Facebook reads my long list of stuff friends should not do. I have standards.

On a side note, the pharmacist scared me half to death by saying my blood thinner wasn’t covered. I need the fucking blood thinner to prevent deadly Geodon related side-effects. It was fucking evil to be told it wasn’t covered. I need to complain to her manager whom she wouldn’t let me talk to. I sincerely hope they get mad at her. Zero understanding of how to treat disabled people. At one point she made the mistake of telling me Geodon wasn’t covered. Holy christ Jesus. Does she have fun instilling panic attacks? Really.

Well fuck it. All people see is somebody smokin’ hot instead of the disabled mess I perceive myself as being. I need to get over it. I wasn’t disabled enough to get a pension from SSI. I’m better off looking for a job. I’m most definitely better off being a motherfucking rich serial entrepreneur who can generate ideas for other people too. See my website at IriatheIrrepressible.com.  I’m not letting my family near my financial situation. Nobody’s doing my taxes except H&R block if I can fucking afford it.