A Man & His Journal: Agenda, Emotional Crutch, Childhood Dream

Something that has been playing around in my mind in the last couple of days in particular: emotional coping mechanisms. I’m not entirely sure why. Sure, everyone has their own proverbial emotional rollercoaster that takes them through the highs and lows of their lives and, for the most part, it’s not a bad thing. Hell, if nothing else it keeps life interesting.

What made me start thinking ’emotional coping mechanisms’ specifically I cannot say. Perhaps, weirdly, I’ve been feeling somewhat contemplative over the last couple of days. Reasons for this train of thought aside, I thought I could discuss one particular coping mechanism that I use to get through the more ‘entertaining’ parts of my rollercoaster. I know that this trick works for me and I also know that it is one of the relatively common ones. That said, not all of these will ‘gel’ with everyone.

Anyway, down to business…


This is perhaps one of the earliest and longest lasting of my ‘tools.’ I started my first journal on my thirteenth birthday. While I haven’t been straining to write in my journal every single day, I find myself gravitating towards it on a semi-regular basis.

Now going into the eighth year of a relationship with journaling, I found the reasoning behind my journaling has taken several forms and I seem to regularly change its raison d’étre. For instance, I still remember the reason I first decided to start journaling in the first place: I wanted to join history.

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Welcome to 2018

Hello, Friends

It’s been a month since I’ve last interacted with you on the blog but, yeah, life happens and all that jazz. Among all of the other commitments at the moment, I also seemed to have contracted a case of writer’s block – as one of my favourite childhood, fictional characters, Adrian Mole, would have said, “Just my luck.”

Recently, though, I’ve been feeling particularly creative so I should be back on the ‘blogging band wagon’ soon. Since my brain is deciding to give me the silent treatment on The Disability Diaries front, I feel like opening up my content up to my readers. If you want to know my thoughts etc. on a particular topic feel free to e-mail me, reach out on the FaceBook, Instagram or Twitter accounts.

Considering it is near midnight in Cape Town at the moment, I don’t think I will be able to accurately discuss some of the ideas that finally began swimming around my head at the moment. I decided to write this post tonight just to keep The Disability Diaries alive and well while I begin drafting the new posts.

Don’t hesitate to contact me if there is anything you want to know about me.

Bye for now and here’s to a wonderful new year,


‘Inspiration Porn:’ The Ableist Social Virus

In what way does my acknowledgment of you, my desire to engage with you, and my getting out of bed make me worthy of congratulations? Why does my going about my business get special acknowledgment? What really makes me different? Yes, I have a disability but am I not entitled to a life outside of bed? Can I not function in society without having my day-to-day life being cheapened by having it reduced to little more than ‘inspiration porn’ for the ‘normals?’

On three days ago I went for a drink with a new friend, Sané, at the Baxter Theatre. We had a wonderful time. In fact, in the three hours or so that we were there (save the fact I accidentally broke a glass) nothing could have gone better. Since I lived literally a few streets away from the Theatre we both decided to go back to my house so that Sané could meet my two Golden Retrievers. The idea seemed simple enough, I’d done longer trips in my wheelchair. More to the point: I’d gotten myself to the Baxter in my wheelchair unaided – the trip was more than manageable. So when we decided that we’d walk back to the house it was less a chore for me so much as it was another day.

I’ve had a disability my entire life and I fail to see any way in which this makes me ‘special’ or ‘fascinating’ beyond the fact that the methods I use are different to a lot of other people. When we think about the extent to which we (as humans) differ from others on an individual level my ‘different approach,’ in fact, is not so ‘different’ after all. I’m just being me.

Thanks to bizarre social constructs that give off a signal that I am ‘weaker’ and ‘less able’ than others and my achieving basic, full engagement with society is worthy of congratulation. These constructs literally suggest that my going out to buy milk from the local is a medal-worthy feat. I’ve never had much direct exposure to this beyond little children. My evening with Sané, however, proved to be the first major, and most obvious, experience of being characterised as ‘inspiration porn.’

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How Do You React to Disabled Parking?

If you’ve been following the blog’s Facebook page and/or the Twitter accounts, you most likely have seen my question about how we, both individually and as a society, react to illegal parking in disabled bays. Looking back and the post-history for the blog, I’ve discussed the mentality issues surround the ‘illegal parking issue’ but I don’t think I’ve adequately investigated different society’s reactions to the problem. I’m genuinely interested in how different people deal with a vehicle parked in a disabled bay illegally. At the same time, I’d like to understand what methods your society takes to combat the issue both practically and ideologically.

Leaving aside what we’ve discussed, I think it’s time I tell you how South Africa reacts to the issue as I’ve experienced it. While there are some individuals and organisations (like QASA or UCT’s Traffic Department) who do amazing work to combat the issue, something I’ve seen often at the places I visit are ridiculously low fines and/or the institutions not taking the issue seriously. Take a look at what I see as the three biggest ‘reaction problems’ I’ve experienced in South Africa:

  1. Really low fines

OK, maybe it’s just the places I go to often but I’ve come across places who either issue fines that I think are ridiculously low by comparison to other countries. I can’t speak about anywhere else in South Africa since I’ve only lived in Cape Town but I still think it is worth pointing this out.

I don’t go everywhere in Cape Town so this might not be a complete picture of how it truly is but this is supposed to be my experiences so… yeah. A lot of the places I’ve come across, have a ‘clamp and release’ policy and the release fee is roughly between R150-R500 (the equivalent of $7-$35 or £5-£27 at the current exchange rate). I’ve heard of café bills that are larger. Surely, if the goal is preventing someone from doing this again, the fines should hurt significantly? Or am I unreasonable?

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We Do Things Differently: A Challenge to Prove Me Wrong

It’s exam season at UCT so blogging has, obviously, taken a backseat. That said, it’s time for another entry – if for no other reason procrastination.

I was checking The Disability Diaries Facebook Page (which I just you go and like now… go on, I’ll wait) and I re-found the cover photo I uploaded a while back. It raises a point that I think deserves some rehashing: “I may walk, talk, and move differently than you do, but on the inside I’m not so different.”

Disability doesn’t discriminate; people do.

People have been discriminating against each other for centuries. Perhaps, there is nothing more ‘natural’ than discriminating against others and holding yourself ‘superior.’ That does not make it right. While Darwinian Theory maintains that we are animals, humans generally like to separate themselves from the other animals and often see themselves as ‘higher-order beings’ – in essence, separate themselves from nature. What could be more ‘unnatural’ than fighting against instinct?

To those of you who say it is impossible to fight instinct, I say bah humbug. It is not ‘natural’ or ‘instinctual’ for a dog to sit on command when a person instructs it to, it is a trained response to a verbal/visual cue. The fact that an animal’s natural response can be controlled to a degree through conditioning, regardless of the animal’s species, proves that it is possible to manipulate original understanding. With this in mind, then, I do not see how humans cannot control the ‘natural urges’ to discriminate.

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Wheelchairs in Academia: A Collaboration with The Diary of a Disabled Person

Aidan Bizony

In February 2016, I started an Undergraduate Degree at the University of Cape Town in English and History.  Initially, I wanted to do Law but decided to embark on my passion for Literature instead – something I’m extremely glad I did now that I think about it. While a lot of my old high school buddies spend their types in laboratories or in Finance Lectures, I choose to spend my time debating word-choice in centuries-old novels. I’m happy with what I do. It, too, is one of the few avenues in my life that can be entirely disentangled from disability. Don’t get me wrong, disability is a part of who I am but I don’t want to be dominated by it all the time.

As much as my field allows me to separate me from my physical limitations, sometimes the campus itself and the ideologies of those around me find a way, as John Keats put it, “toll me back to my sole self.” Granted, a physical disability is bound to bring with it some challenges that mean the experience is different but I don’t see how the real-world complications should be allowed to creep into my academic life. To think, though, that 150+ year old university built on a mountain must suddenly redesign itself for a relatively small portion of the population who have certain physical difficulties is naïve – particularly when you consider all the other problems South Africa must address.

Regardless of the various difficulties I have in navigating the campus, there are several groups who strive to make the academic experience as separate as possible from the disability limitations students face. For instance, since the campus bus system is not wheelchair accessible the UCT Disability Service arrange alternative, accessible transport so that I do not have to be beholden to friends and/or family to get me to my classes and my classes are taught in wheelchair-accessible venues.

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Parking Wars: The QASA Help Line

As I pointed out in an earlier post, these bays do matter and it shouldn’t be used without a legitimate reason regardless of how long it is being occupied for.

As you no doubt have noticed from earlier posts, I have a particular issue with people parking in Disabled Bays illegally. While the response to the issue is usually great, there are times when the response is… less than ideal. Helped in no small part by my obsessiveness, things can get pretty heated when these issues aren’t resolved. Naturally, this causes a lot of anxiety, (un)necessary agro, etc. Luckily, a friend suggested I contact the QuadPara Association’s Whatsapp Hotline.

The hotline was released in 2014 as a way to combat ‘the problem’ and, on the whole, has been working effectively – at least when I’ve used it. While dealing with these issues is never fun, the hotline at least becomes a vehicle (pun intended) to reduce the energy, anxiety, and stress that the other methods of reporting lead to. What’s more, the hotline provides a safer medium in which to challenge this problem of illegal parking.

Please don’t crucify me for this, other ‘Parking Warriors,’ but the parking is not the issue. Frankly, if you have a real, justifiable reason for parking in a Disabled Bay I’m not too fussed. My problem comes in with the sentiment that often goes hand-in-hand with it: ‘I’m only stopping a minute’ or ‘It doesn’t matter.’

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