This is not cool.
I’m fairly unfazed by it emotionally. But it was still not cool at all.
I get that when you’re simultaneously frustrated, stressed, pissed off, and in a hurry, you’re going to handle objects roughly, slam them around, press really hard when you scrub things, etc. Just about everyone does it. It’s unpleasant to be around. But that’s all.
But today those “objects” were my arms, legs, boobs, and private parts. And that is just… way far out of line. The main reason I didn’t feel bad about it on an obvious level, was that she was treating me so much like an object that she didn’t know I was there to direct anger at. And if that’s doesn’t take fucked up to a whole new level, I don’t know what does.
Caregivers get away with this. All the time. Because it is hard to prove that someone used the wrong kind of touch while they gave you a bed bath. And I needed the bath. And I was too sleep deprived to feel the outrage I should have felt.
People who work in this field sometimes treat us as if we are countertops to be scrubbed. They forget that our bodies contain — are — real people. Who actually feel it when people treat us like this culture treats objects. And on busy days, some of them act like we are a pile of laundry, or a sink full of dishes. Something many people just try to get through as fast as possible, one after the other, with as little regard for our individuality or personhood or feelings, as they can give.
I can barely keep my eyes open, and when they shut I fall asleep and type gibberish. I don’t feel furious or violated or anything like that. I must feel it intellectually or I wouldn’t have posted this. Oh well. Need to sleep. So this goes up as is.
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