Bubbles, Part 1
This is the first comic I ever drew trying to represent my disability. I had the comic in my head and was trying to figure out how to draw the wheelchair with me and my atrophied limbs in it, and it was all so gross and awful I just drew a squiggle instead because that's often how I think of my body, as a ruined figure.
Whenever I find myself at a new social environment - new school, party or whatever - I am overcome by a lot of anxiety regarding how well I'll be able to fit in, if at all. So I start to go over the top insane, obsessively fixing my clothes and my hair and my lipstick in an attempt to look more approachable, to the point where flaws are all I can think about. It all has to be perfect so I can be in the perfect bubble of normalcy too.
Eventually I am forced to face the fact that the wrinkle is not the issue, I am the issue, and I hate myself for it. And yeah, most of those people suck, but some of them are nice, interesting people who I'd really like to get to know and who I think might enjoy knowing me too but are just more interested in talking to non freaks, which is understandable, and I can't say I'd act any different in their place.
I just really, really hate being a freak.
