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I have written posts about some of the social justice implications of my sort of absence! However, because I have that strange a sense of humour, I have written them elsewhere.

As I say over at FWD/Forward in Doing just fine:

Part of the problem was that I was just that exhausted by the assigned work and just getting through the day. But part of it also was that I worked especially hard at uni just to prove the disabled lady could do it. I’ve been pretty used to the attitude that I’ve not worthy of a place in whatever educational institution I happened to be participating at the time. It’s an awful feeling, the feeling that I’m not so deserving of an education (or a good education) because of the kind of body I have, or because there’s a perception of me as a whiny lying woman, and it has invested me with a thirst to prove myself. Or, better, a fear that they’re right. So I work really, really hard. I hand in the most perfect assignments I can write. And that’s so exhausting. It’s a vicious cycle: I’m disabled, so I have to exacerbate my disability to show I’m doing fine, which just makes everything else worse. I’ve been so tired, and every day has been so hard.

At Feministe in On absence and what it represents, we get some meta (tasty meta):

I was feeling really rather guilty about not having been around to write for you all. Which was odd, seeing as doing so was pretty near impossible under the circumstances, and, well, this is what I do in my spare time, and I didn’t have any. This got me thinking about obligation, activism, time and space [1] and, of course, feminism.

I started to think about that feeling of guilt and what it represented. Because with all that other stuff on my plate, who could blame me for slowing down on the blogging a bit? I think that guilt has a part of its foundation in some clearly patriarchal influences.

Go forth and read!

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