Experiment 1

So the Spoon Theory is a fundamental metaphor used often in the chronic pain/chronic illness communities to explain to non-spoonies why life is harder for them. It’s super useful and we use that all the time. But it has a corollary.  You know the phrase, “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” right? Well, Fork Theory is that one has a Fork Limit, that is, you can probably cope okay with one fork stuck in you, maybe two or three, but at some point you will lose your shit if one more fork happens.  A fork could range from being hungry or having to pee to getting a new bill or a new diagnosis of illness. There are lots of different sizes of forks, and volume vs. quantity means that the fork limit is not absolute. I might be able to deal with 20 tiny little escargot fork annoyances, such as a hangnail or slightly suboptimal pants, but not even one “you poked my trigger on purpose because you think it’s fun to see me melt down” pitchfork.

(Real pen the last picture)

It is important for EVERYONE to know how to help ANYONE. Not everyone can give them selves their medicine under every circumstance. Be educated, help out.

6% of the US is 19 million, as stated above. There are only 3 states that have over 19 million people in them. 19 million is the population of the entire state of New York. That’s more than half the population of California.

female awesome meme: [4/5] ladies in movies » belle (beauty and the beast)

They become a familiar sight in the marketplace.

“Here’s your change, ma'am. One gold piece.” The merchant holds out a palm, on top of which rests a tiny, brilliantly colored creature clutching a single gold coin.

“That’s a dragon,” you say dumbly. “One piece… and a dragon.”

“Yes.”

You cautiously reach out and attempt to take your change. You tug. It holds. You tug harder. The dragon lets loose a tiny, protective growl.

“Ma'am–no, ma'am, you have to take the dragon, too.”

“Sorry?”

The seller notes your dubious expression. “Not from around here, are ya?” They shrug. “Them’s the rules. Take the coin, take the dragon.”

They wait expectantly. Wondering how the world has so suddenly gone mad, you slowly, slowly hold out your hand.

The dragon perks right up. It scampers from their palm to yours with the coin clamped in its jaws and scales your sleeve with sharp little claws.

“Have a nice day, ma'am,” the merchant says. “Spend him soon, now, you hear? At another booth, if you can. He likes to travel.”

praising the whole idea of the independent woman who doesn’t need to rely on anyone is all well and good for you abled folks

but for disabled women like me, its unobtainable.