Living Between Can and Can’t

Happy Disability Pride month all you space cowboys. In observation of the month I have a thoughtful deep dive cooked up for you all about invisible disability. I had a person ask a question in a workshop I ran a few weeks ago, and I’ve been turning it around and around in my brain, sparking this thoughtful spelunk. For context, they were a counselling student, neurodivergent themselves, and working their way through what it means to support neurodivergent clients as a helping professional.

“What do you do when a person says they can’t do a thing because of their neurodivergence, …but maybe it’s not just that they can’t do it, but that it’s something else stopping them. Like, referencing their neurodivergence isn’t the real reason. You know?”

The student was hesitant, trying to choose their words carefully, clearly aware that they didn’t want to describe it as an excuse. But there is that piece isn’t there? That possibility that actually I can do the things, maybe I’ve just convinced myself that I can’t because it is easier to move on from can’t than it is from won't.

Hmmm, tricky.

Especially tricky when we recognize that this suspicion might be coming from an ableist place, knowingly or unknowingly. Invisible disabilities are so easy for the general systems to discount or ignore, despite the very real challenges that are a part of our every day life. Hell, we could probably fill a book with all the things we were told we should just be able to do because ‘everyone can.’ And living in a world where these are the messages all around us, it is incredibly easy for them to seep into our own cores.

The Internal Tension

But external expectations, from society or our parents or even our therapists, are not what I want to wrestle with today. I want to dig into the internal tension between can and can’t. Not what others think about disability, or say about our capacity, and not what society says we should be able to do based on their assumptions about the jumble of letters we were handed by a human in a white coat.

I am talking about what you think about your capacity, and what you say to yourself when no one else is listening.

I am talking to you, the invisibly disabled human who is on the line dancing between a binary that you never signed up for, because it feels like all or nothing is the only option available to you.

Can or cannot. Do or do not, there is no try. All that yoda shit.

But the thing is, sometimes the grey space of try is all we have left. When you are on the inside of it, trying to determine if you can or can’t do a thing, if there was no try you would never know how to accomodate yourself. The try is where the discoveries are, and each try is worthwhile no matter the outcome.

This is such a nuanced thing, one that I have been wrestling with since my most recent burnout. I grapple with the fact that I am capable of a lot of things, but not able to do them without immense cost to myself and others. And that is to say, it’s not that I can’t do the thing, it’s that I can’t do it that way without serious consequences. This nuance has opened up two things for me. First, it has taught me that I really am disabled, because doing the thing at great personal cost is not the same as being ‘abled’. Second, it has opened me up to a world of possibility when I consider what other ways there might be to do that thing. That is called accommodation.

Example Time

For a minute there, when the world was starting to open back up after lockdowns, I was venturing out into restraunts and bars again. And Cheese and F—ing Crackers it was a nightmare. I would go out on a date or to a meeting with friends and manage an hour or two before heading home for a cataclysmic shut down that often ended with puking and three days in bed to recover. It was easy to start thinking, ‘I Can’t Go Out Anymore’. But I kept trying, despite what yoda would say to the contrary, learning that this or that worked for me, and the other things did not. Over time I learnt that under the right circumstance I can go out. I need to have a limited number of other responsibilities during the day in question, I need my Loop earplugs and some tinted glasses to manage blue light sensitivities. I prefer to be home and settling in for the night before 10pm, though that isn’t a deal breaker provided I have the next morning cleared for a good sleep in. If I am headed towards burnout or am in a high stress period for some reason, the padding around group events needs to get thicker in order to avoid meltdowns and shutdowns. But I can go out.

(Granted there are some places that I avoid entirely because there is no way to make them accessible, like clubs, but generally I don’t even want to be in those places in the first place. This for me is different than someone with a mobility disability being kept out of a place they would like to experience because of a lack of physical accessibility. My preference is involved here. But would it still be my preference if there was a way to make it accessible…?)

Now my preparing for a night out is more involved than your average bear, I will give you that. It means that 4 out 5 times I will probably choose not to, especially in the evening. But it is a choice. A choice not to go through the extra steps for any old reason. Reframing this negotiation in this way keeps the agency firmly in my court. Which, as it so happens, is incredibly supportive for one's mental health.

Some Psychology

In psychology there is this concept of learned helplessness. Trigger warning for animal abuse: Some nasty old white guy who thought of himself as a scientist did some shit awful things to dogs to discover that if you punish an animal and give it no way to avoid that punishment of its own accord it will eventually give up any hope of being able to avoid it, and lay down and take it. Horrific, I know. Then, even if you change the circumstance so that there is a way to avoid the punishment, that poor dog will not attempt it because they have learned they are helpless.

Now psychologists have since extrapolated from that horrific experiment to say that the same thing can happen to humans. If a person believes their suffering is internal, stable, and global they are likely to experience this helplessness. It is one of the theories for what depression is, a human being internalizing the belief that there is nothing they can do to change their bad circumstances so they may as well lie down and take it. (If you want to learn more about this, look here)

Now listen, the circumstances for a lot folx right now are about as bad as they have ever been. The consequences of war, genocide, climate catastrophy, and the metastasizing effects of decades of unchecked capitalism are all around us. Fascism is hot, trans humans and humans of the global majority are being targeted in places that have claimed to be ‘free’ even if they never really have been, and the funding and social supports that keep disabled people alive are being eroded in front of our eyes. I know that, and I am not advocating for sticking your head in the sand and pretending like it’s all fine. It is decidedly not fine. And, giving into the learned helplessness of it all is not going to make things better. That is the path to despair. And when good people despair, the fascists win.

What I am not talking about is toxic positivity. Let's get that real straight. Living a disabled life is not a picnic, it's not inspiration porn, and certainly not about having superpowers. There is grief and anger, and often frustration with the limitations that exist. I want to hold that nuance as I write these words. Sometimes I would very much like to go back to a time before I figured out my limits, and just barrelled my way through things oblivious to the consequences. But then I remember how fucked my mental health was, how often my body would do things I didn’t understand, how all encompassing the crashes were. I am trying to do better for myself. I spent most of my formative years believing I could wear the suffering of trying too hard like a medal, proof to whomever was listening that I was worthy. Not anymore. Now I take my first year acting professor’s words to heart; for the love of god Javelin, try easier.

Taking Your Power Back

So, for the very real can’ts that you have in your life right now, are there any that you can consider cans if you try them differently? Not trying harder, or at greater cost to yourself, just differently. Are there any places you can put your metaphorical foot down and say, 'No, I get to choose.’? Are there things you can do if you do them your way? This is self-accommodation. Remember that a difference of even 5% can cause statistically significant changes that ripple out into real transmutation. Keep it small, don’t overwhelm yourself. But take some of your power back my darlings, they can’t hold onto it forever.

Thanks for wandering into this cave with me. Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Would love to hear about the accommodations you have found for yourself when you have tried things differently. And as always, if you want to keep up with my monthly articles you can subscribe to The Alchemist’s List here.