Name: 私は戦士ではありません[CC] (I'm not a warrior [CC])
Uploaded: 2021-01-14T10:55:36.000Z
Duration: 10 min
Description: VoiceTubeの動画で発音を聞きながら英語表現を覚えよう！学べる英語：

Welcome to the end of my fifth week of isolation and thank you to those of you who have been

joining us for our weekly livestreams, every Sunday at 4pm UK time.

Even though this week was actually on Monday because I had a terrible migraine. Ehem.

By the way if you like my hair, I've made an IGTV showing you how to do it and that

In today's video: everything I hate about the chronic illness warrior narrative-

So buckle in and let's get to the polite but sarcastic ranting!

Firstly though, if you're new to this channel or you've been watching for a while but

haven't yet subscribed then make sure to hit the subscribe button down below and if

you'd like to become a member of the Kellgren-Fozard Club, gaining access to behind-the-scenes

videos whilst also supporting the channel then click the Join button.

No don't start drilling again! Oh my God!

A small disclaimer: these are my opinions. If you feel differently it doesn't make

you wrong or invalidate what I'm saying, it just means we feel differently. I really,

really want to know your thoughts on this so please do share in the comments but do

try to avoid arguments. All viewpoints are valid.

I've noticed recently that the warrior narrative has been very prominent in our news and for

obvious reasons. The UK's Prime Minister was recently laid low with COVID-19 and when

he recovered the media were quick to applaud him for 'battling' the disease and colleagues

pointed out that he had always been 'a fighter' as if sheer willpower alone had

- and not, you know, the hardworking National Health Service whose budget he had previously

Have you ever noticed how people talk about even minor illnesses, even colds, with the

language of war? We say we're 'fighting a cold' or 'battling the flu'. We call

people with medical conditions 'warriors' and encourage them to constantly 'battle'

Personally, I've lived with two genetic disabilities all of my life and those have

put me in a state of chronic illness: I'm unwell. I'm always unwell. I'm not going

to get better. And I don't think that makes me an inspirational 'warrior'

It would be an injustice to myself and others to say that it isn't a struggle to live

with a difficult body but the narrative of it  just makes me uncomfortable.

- Granted, could also be because I'm a Quaker pacifist.

But, my friends, embedded in the narrative of warrior life and militaristic terminology

is the belief that we can overcome anything... if we just try hard enough.

- I get through my day thanks to medication, love and excuses.

And sure, I do have to put a lot of effort into getting out of bed in the morning because

I have the energy levels of a very active slug but

pain and can't get out of bed, I don't really think it's because I haven't tried

- I mean, there is definitely a tiny part of me buried deep down which thinks that all

problems I face are because I haven't tried hard enough but that's why therapy exists.

I resent the implication that whenever I'm overwhelmed it's my own fault for not keeping

the incorporeal dogs at bay and I don't particularly want to spread that thought.

People who die from coronavirus did not 'let us down' because they 'didn't fight

hard enough', the onus is not on them and them alone!

Whilst the 'well what does that say about the people who DO die?' argument is an obvious

minus of the warrior mindset there are other reasons I dislike it. A rather large one being:

As we've all now been learning from weeks of lockdown amid a global pandemic… being

in a constant 'fight or flight' mode is terrible for your mental and physical health.

We can divide those living with illness into two categories: those who have a chance of

getting 'better' and those who will be living with their illness forever.

if you have cancer there is something to overcome- you can have an 'after' where you are

cancer-free but for those with long term chronic illnesses there isn't an 'after' but

there IS relief in accepting yourself as you are.

I used to feel like I was trapped in a body that I was constantly fighting against but

that I couldn't tell anyone because all I got back was encouragement to keep going

rather than acknowledgement  that the fighting itself sucked

just as much as what I was fighting against.

So you know what, even people who ARE 'fighting' cancer don't want to be fighting all of

the time. They need a break. They need to be able to just complain and have a big moan

without needing to be 'inspirational' or putting lots of effort in.

A lack of personal acceptance is bad for your mental health, we know this. Most obviously

we see it talked about in the realms of body acceptance around fat bodies or non-white

bodies but it's important that we recognise how vital it can be

in disability and chronic illness circles.

Working to accept your ill body doesn't mean that you don't also have moments of

absolutely hating your illness or that you aren't actively working to get better

but it does genuinely help  your soul to feel a little lighter.

When I thought of my illness as something to fight against what I was really fighting

against was my own body and thus stressing it further. My illness is in every cell, it's

Often I see the argument, generally from the medical profession, that it's important

ill or disabled people don't make our brokenness our entire identity, that we don't focus

too much on it, that we take it and separate it from the core of 'who we are'.

- bingo if you had 'identity politics' on your scorecard!

I don't see 'self' as a pie chart in which what is 'wrong' with me sits separate

and alone from all other aspects of myself. I'm not 1/18 a redhead and '½ a Buffy

lover'. Instead they're overlapping lines of the same length but varying opacity.

- And yes, I've had a lot of time to think about the visual representation of my ID,

I have to find ways to occupy myself when my migraines are terrible, okay?