A Love Letter To The Sick And Disabled During A Pandemic
But before we talk about our love, we need to talk about our anger. Since we haven’t been able to be “productive” we may be left to die.
What a weird time for us. As COVID-19 is making its way around the world, I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I’ve mostly been worrying, to be honest. I think we all are. So I wanted to write us a letter, specifically a love letter, that barely skims the surface of my gratitude for us.
I also am longing for connection and though everyone is talking about sickness, no one is talking to sick people.
While it’s a love letter to you, it’s also a love letter to myself. A tether to my community of crips who are out there existing when all I can do is cry and try to squeak out a few words through all the Ativan in my bloodstream. And I know I don’t owe anyone anything, but I owe it to myself to keep trying to connect in the ways that I know how, and this is one of them.
