Swimming, In A Sea Of Red Tape (May 25, 2016)

I didn't ask

For the various labels

That hang around my neck

Like a hangman's noose.

Often

Without knowing

They're around

Me.

Rather

Have gather them

Over the years

From other people.

Starting

At the tender age

Of four.

With the medical

Community

And growing

From there.

In seeing me

As a problem

That needs

A solution.

Instead of

A person

Who needs

Understanding.

Forced

To play

By a myriad

Of Byzantine

Bureaucratic rules

That dehumanize

All applicants.

Fighting

To pry open

The locked doors.

Where

Vital decisions are

Being made

Without my presence.

Only to find

The reports are

Sealed.

Thus

Am forced

To become

What I hate.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: My collection of labels, started, in November 1974, with my survival of a severe electrical burn, to both sides of my mouth. And from there, have grown, with the start of school, the following year, with kindergarten. Having experienced multiple years, throughout my academic career, in special educational classes, for speech therapy, gifted student program and last for, various learning disabilities. Am only aware of some of these decisions, because my dad broke protocol, with a backroom committee, and in showing me, their reports.

As an university student, I had to identify myself, to my various professors, as having various learning disabilities, before the start of each new course, or lecturer. A royal pain, in the butt, having to do so. Even on, on the job site, I have to do so, to prevent them, from discriminating against me, because, of this.

Quite frankly, I rather not, have to disclose such personal information, about myself, that people can use, against me. I don't like using labels, but the rules of society forces them, upon people, like myself, regardless, of our personal feelings, towards them.