Living with a Disability During COVID-19

The year was 2002, I moved to a very populated, busy college town. I lived with family members, who had bragged that this city made many opportunities for someone disabled, someone like me. Though when I first moved here, they tried to hide me.

Not until a year later did I know about the popular restaurants, local bars that booked musical acts and shops that sold little buddha statues. When I applied for jobs, I thought I could do it by myself, I didn’t need any help. I became confused why they would not hire me. Maybe they could see all my scars? Or someone had told them about my accident? Not realizing my lopsided smile or how I slurred my words actually gave me away.

Years passed, it was the year 2020 when it all started to go downhill. I was often walked to a local cafe and a woman who I met there became my theater buddy, the last play we saw foreshadowed our future of this pandemic. The first glimpse I saw was when I had to use the restroom at intermission, no one talked about the “virus,” everyone ignored it; but at the sink in the bathroom, was an older lady washing her hands, she was singing so she could cleanse her hands good enough to not get the virus.

Then the pandemic happened and for a brief moment, silence was heard on the streets; time had stopped, no police or ambulance sang their siren songs going through the city, you would walk on the uneven sidewalks and listen to the birds chirp their happy songs or people sing joyful songs on the streets. Unfamiliar people with their mask on waved, and say: “Good Morning,” families rode their bikes down the street together or walked their animals, a single kid practiced making ollies and kickflips on our empty street.

It was a peaceful city, one I had only read about, but never experienced. But, doing laundry at the laundry mat I fear would become a distant memory of getting coffee and doing a crossword puzzle while my laundry was getting cleaned in the machines. Walking to my favorite coffee shop and seeing the leaves on the trees in the park change colors, talking and sharing coffee with friends, or traveling into the library for our AUMI classes.

When the pandemic hit harder, and jobs were stopped, coffee shops were closed, though some only had a drive-through. Restaurants, bars, libraries, and bookstores had curbside services now. Everything had changed, online dating was no longer people looking for one night stands, they were now searching for the person to spend their life with. Mask were a must, everywhere it was a rule to get in, shop, get your mail, or get supper.

But, domestic and sexual violence was at an all-time high, they posted pictures of their bruised and beat up body on the computer. There was no help that came, people only empathized with the victims through the computer screen. Though we had come up with a covert way of how to get the abused victims away from their abusers.

The homeless population exploded, whole families now lived on the streets, no food or shelter during the day in the blistering hot day. They joined the growing number of homeless people that lived on the streets some with only their animals to keep them company. But, our government would not give the people money to sustain themselves throughout this pandemic, though life. {To Be Continued}