My country wants me dead. Again.

At the last election I was faced with the realisation that the electorate of the United Kingdom either actively wants me dead or at least doesn’t care if I die. It was a sobering realisation.

This time it is, if anything, worse. Because now it’s not just the United Kingdom. Many of my fellow Scots want me dead. Why?

Seriously, Scottish Conservative voters, why do you want me and people like me dead? You’ve voted for a party that has cut disability benefits, attacked the NHS, cut Social Care spending and refused to condemn the forced institutionalisation of disabled people. People are dying. People have died. And if, as seems likely, the Tories cling on to power then more people will die.

If you voted Conservative in this election then you voted in favour of turfing out law abiding EU citizens, you voted in favour of the rape clause, you voted in favour of taking mobility cars from disabled people, cutting benefits to the mentally ill and to people with learning difficulties. You voted in favour of benefit sanctions that drive vulnerable people to food banks where they can hang out with nurses and police officers. You voted against the NHS. You voted in favour of fox hunting and selling ivory and cosying up to Donald Fucking Trump.

If you voted Conservative then why? What was it that you thought you were voting for?

Of course if it’s Scottish Conservative MPs that return the Conservative party to power against the will of the English electorate I am going to laugh for about a week. Particularly since the EVEL legislation, pushed through by the Conservatives in the wake of the independence referendum, means that they wont be able to vote on a lot of bills.


Please don’t kill me.

The UK is facing an unexpected election in June.  I have a message for everyone eligible to vote in it – I’m a human being, my disability doesn’t make me any less human, people like me don’t deserve to die just so that our elected leaders can pursue a dream of austerity that most reputable economists regard as purest bunkum.

You might be wondering what on earth I’m going on about. It’s not like anyone is talking about loading disabled people on to cattle trucks. Yet. So here’s some further reading for you:

If you vote Conservative you’re voting for people who don’t care about child poverty, the working poor, or disabled people. You’re voting for people who can’t even lie consistently. You’re voting for people who claim that they are subsidising an entire nation (Scotland) while refusing to subsidise a spare room to store the equipment needed by a disabled child.

A vote for the Conservatives says that you’re just fine with selling off the NHS. It says that you think filling in an 8 page form about sexual assault is a reasonable burden to place on a woman just trying to get tax credits for a third child. It’s saying that you think the 50,000 disabled people who have already lost their motability vehicles are better off indoors.

Whatever else you think you’re doing when you put your X in the box marked Conservative And Unionist Party you’re also telling me and people like me to just fuck off and die quietly.

Sometimes it’s the little things.

Everything I do is hard.  There are no easy options for me.  My poor health means that even lying in bed doing nothing gets painful very quickly. That means that every chore I do is the result of an act of will.

Which is how I know that I’m cursed.  Either that or God is fucking with me.

Today I did some chores. One of them was putting some light coloured clothes in the washing machine.  Because some of the clothes were more colourful than others (but not quite dark enough for a dark wash) I put in a colour catcher sheet.  That means that I had to crouch down to get the colour catcher sheet out of the under-sink cupboard which was painful. It cost me additional spoons. Just so that I could do that wash properly.

Let’s be clear that I didn’t actually have to do any of this. I have a husband who is technically able bodied, I hadn’t run out of clothes, and I could have put on a dark wash that didn’t need the catcher.  I did it because I’m trying to be a proper functioning adult who does their fare share of chores regularly instead of waiting till they can’t possibly get out of doing them any longer.

And what was my reward for doing all of this? Everything came out pink except the colour catcher which was pristine white.  I don’t like pink. I only have a couple of pink items of clothing. Well I only had a couple.  I’ve got a lot more now. Also a pink tea-towel.

And the pink thing that dyed everything else? It was a scarf and it was only in the wash because it got hit by some seagull crap. Which I keep hearing is lucky.