Friday, September 30, 2016

Disabled Language

A decade ago I was good with words. Language was easy for me. Words were only infrequently lost, time was spent only on perfectionism, not on try to find ways to communicate the concept within my mind.

That's not true anymore. Between the fuzziness of migraine brain, the side effects of necessary medications, and simply not having enough spoons to spend them on language, words don't work the way they used to.

So why should I make them?

Instead of trying to have language look neurotypical, why not use neurodivergent language? For that matter, instead of trying to speak, why not type this, while words work through my fingers but wouldn't through my mouth.

Both of these rather make more sense.
And they're disabled language.

It's nouning verbs and verbing nouns (and so on, parts of speech are what you make of them). It's dropping words, and using antonyms to get my point across. It's using echolalia, and palilalia. It's repeating repetitively.

Disabled language. Disabled communication.

Incomplete sentences, improper spellings, incorrect words, and purposeful homonyms dropped into place. Built around a line that someone else has said, but now it being my line, because just because it's echolalic doesn't make it not communicative.

It's not trying too hard in times and places that spoons don't exist.

And it's having words like spoons. Words that mean things. Common language. Things that can be falled back upon in order to communicate ideas that take hours to get across.

It's forgetting halfway through a statement what it was going to be. And so what? Some of it getting across still. Or forgetting that it's been stated already and repeating, unaware what has been said.

It's playing with sounds, and the textures of the words, and the pattern of the letters on the page. Sometimes it's pretty. Sometimes, it needs to be changed to be made comfortable. Sometimes, the "wrong" grammar is write.

(And yes, I did realize what I did there, after I did so. But why change it? Why make myself go and edit mistypes when I'm making the point that I shouldn't have to. It means multiple things this way, the meaning is better this way.)

When words are hard, then they're hard. And when they're easy, they're easy. But no matter, there's no reason for me to use words that aren't mine. I shouldn't have to use words that are the proper words, just because they're proper. I should be able to just use my weird-words the way it is. Wordy-words, or unwordy-words, or wordy-unwords. Whatever. However.

1 comment:

  1. You are very right that echolalia is communication. Everyone looks at me like I have three heads when I talk about my autistic daughter's alternative communication. They keep pushing their ways of communicating on her rather than just listening and looking and getting what it is she's communicating to them. It's not that hard to understand if you get to know her just a little. They don't want to take the time.