What Qualifies Someone as Disabled?

By Crystal Lindell

There’s a common question in the disability community about what qualifies someone as “disabled.”

My advice to anyone considering this question about themselves is this: People who are not disabled do not sit around contemplating whether or not they are disabled. 

So, if you are wondering if your health issues qualify you as disabled: They do.  

A lot of Americans have a rigid idea of “disability” based on how it’s often portrayed in popular culture. The idea is that “real” disabled people use something like a wheelchair, a walking cane, or a walker. Those Hollywood props are what qualifies someone as legitimately disabled. 

But in real life, that’s not true. Disability is often gradual, slowly chipping away at our abilities – but taking them away nonetheless. Which means it can be hard to know when we’ve crossed the threshold into fully disabled. And we may arrive there without so much as a walking cane. 

In truth, it took me years to fully grasp this about my own diminishing health. 

My pain often makes it so that I cannot leave the house, even with pain medication. Grocery shopping trips leave me exhausted, assuming I even have the energy to push through that day’s pain to navigate the store in the first place. I am on daily medications, I put off showers because they are too difficult for me to handle, and I often cancel plans last minute when my body decides to be uncooperative. 

Yet despite all of that, I still did not know if I should consider myself "disabled."

Over time though, I have come to realize that my health problems impact so many aspects of my life, that of course I am disabled. 

After we decide to take on the label of “disabled” for ourselves, we often meet the next hurdle: pushback from loved ones and strangers who bristle at the distinction. 

There’s also a common sentiment among patients with chronic illness where they think if they meet some imaginary threshold of disabled, then finally people will start to accept their limitations and maybe even show some sympathy. Unfortunately, that is often not the case. 

When it comes to health issues, you will never find validation from others. There is no level of mobility aids or level of diagnosis you can get where people who’ve dismissed your health issues in the past will suddenly start to accept them. 

That’s in large part because when people interact with a disabled person, it requires them to contemplate the fact that their own body could eventually fail them one day. 

Some people choose to hold space for that realization in themselves and then express empathy. But others try to reject it, choosing instead to accuse the disabled person of being overdramatic. That’s because they don’t want to consider just how vulnerable our human bodies really are.  

I’ve heard people dismiss diagnosed cancer patients as “hypochondriacs” for complaining about their symptoms. I’ve seen people claim that POTS is not a real disability, despite the fact that it’s often debilitating and life-altering. And I’ve heard people tell loved ones not to use a wheelchair when they need it, because it might make them “give up.” As though we are ever allowed to give up in our bodies. 

Personally, I think of the time I sprained my ankle back in high school. At the time I was working at Walmart, and I went into work despite the severe pain, swelling and bruising on my ankle. Unable to put any weight on it, I used one of the store’s electric mobility scooters to get around the store during my shift. 

A co-worker felt the need to come right up to me and tell me that I shouldn’t be using it because I should be saving the scooters for people who “really” need them. Apparently being unable to walk did not qualify me. 

My advice here is that other’s opinions of your body are irrelevant. They don’t know what it’s like to live with your symptoms, so it doesn’t matter if they accept the label of disabled for you or not. All that matters is that you accept whatever you label you decide to use. 

And, like I said, if you’re wondering if you are “disabled” you probably are. And that’s okay. Now that you’ve named it, you can get on with the noble work of finding new ways to live with it.

When I Call Myself Disabled

By Barby Ingle, PNN Columnist

Recently an interesting hashtag started trending on Twitter: #WhenICallMyselfDisabled.

Cassie, a friend who also has chronic pain, sent me a message to make sure that I had seen it. I am so glad she did because it sparked something in me that I didn’t even know I had an opinion about.

There are so many people in the chronic pain community and we all have different disabilities, diseases, genetics, treatments, healthcare, etc. Even people with the same diseases and conditions can have different levels of disability.

There are many legal and governmental definitions of disability. For example, to qualify for Social Security disability, a person must have a physical or mental impairment that has lasted or is expected to last at least 12 months and which prevents them from doing a "substantial” amount of work.  

The American with Disabilities Act broadly defines disability as a physical or mental condition that substantially limits one or more major life activity.

Often healthy people have a tough time understanding what we live with or the challenges we face on a daily basis. That’s where #WhenICallMyselfDisabled comes in. It can help us explain our own personal definitions of disability and how being disabled impacts our lives.  

The first time I pulled up the hashtag on Twittter, I didn’t plan on sharing it. I was just reading through various tweets when my personal lightbulb went off. When did I start considering myself disabled? How do I define it?

Here’s how I responded on Twitter:

Here's how some people responded to my Tweet:

 It's a life of pure hell isn't it? This is called living???😟😟😥

Oh, I can so relate hun. 💟

Me three. I’m tired & in constant pain. Don’t make me wait in lines, stand at counters, walk stairs, etc. It’s not cuz I’m lazy I gd walked 4,000 miles once! But of course, everyone assumes it’s cuz I’m unmotivated & they hope that pushing my limits is tough love lesson I need.  

I later went to Facebook and shared a longer version of my Twitter message:

#WhenICallMyselfDisabled it’s because I do not know when I will be able to physically attend an event or have to leave early due to lights, noise, fatigue, having a seizure, a pain flare that no 1 can see but levels me, migraine, having an asthma attack from walking or smoke... I could go on, when was the last time I slept, when is the last time I vomited from the pain, is my hand working or is the dystonia attacking today. I could go on and on!

I call myself disabled because I can’t sing, dance and cheer the way I used to. I could go on and on... Despite being disabled, I do my best to be my best and be the best me I can be. Being disabled just means it takes me longer, I have to find another way to accomplish things in life, I still have value and worth.

I didn’t know if my Facebook message would resonate or not.  I just had a feeling how powerful this hashtag could be in helping others understand we may look normal and fully functioning, but don’t take our looks for granted. Here are a few tweets I saw after my post on Facebook.

#WhenICallMyselfDisabled I am acknowledging that my body is different but normal.

#WhenICallMyselfDisabled I feel like I finally really understand my body and mind and can accept them as they are. I have so much more confidence moving through the world, and acceptance (from myself) that the accommodations I need aren't laziness or selfishness.  

My Facebook message received more than 80 likes, comments and shares, so I know it resonated with my pain friends and “non-disabled” friends. It was an outpouring of support and helped lift stigmas that society often puts on people who need some extra help, assistance or time.  

Knowing that no matter what disability I have that I still have value and worth makes me feel so much better. I’m glad the hashtag trended. It could have been a pity hashtag, but I found it to be socially educational and meaningful. I am glad so many others joined in before and after me. A message like this can go a long way to change how we are viewed.  

Barby Ingle lives with reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD), migralepsy and endometriosis. Barby is a chronic pain educator, patient advocate, and president of the International Pain FoundationShe is also a motivational speaker and best-selling author on pain topics.

More information about Barby can be found at her website.  

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.