Talking about Body Integrity Identity Disorder – Just another disability!
Skip to main navigation | Skip to content
by Cath - 28 December 2008
It is Friday evening and I am sitting in my lovely sleek Ti-Lite ZRA looking at the blank page on my word processor and wondering where to start. It’s not like me to be stuck for words – I am a linguist by training, if not these days by profession. Friends would laugh at my unaccustomed inarticulacy, but then they don’t know that I am here and I may never get round to telling them, though I would dearly love to some day.
Coming Out continues »
by Sarah - 25 November 2008
Quid Pro Quo was a movie with many faults, butit was certainly refreshing to see ourexistence portrayed on screen even ifall of the details weren’t quite right. My favorite scene is the one in which Vera Farmiga comes out of her room wearing a corset and leg braces and asks Isaac whether he’s offended. At one point she acknowledges to him that she’s never shared thisaspect of her life with another humansoul. My favorite moment comes at the end ofthe scene when she tells him that she needs to use her chair but can’t with him there.That was the mostauthentic aspect of the whole movie for me.
Wellspring of Desire continues »
by Tom - 23 November 2008
I could start this account by saying I’ve always wanted to be an amputee for as long as I can remember. I could recall very old memories, but the most vivid one – and the most significant - is a dream I had when I was about eleven. In that dream I could quite straightforwardly remove my left hand from the end of my arm by pulling on it with a slight twist. I could also put it back, but it felt a lot better without it. Not having a hand at the end of my left forearm just felt right.
A Hand for A Life continues »
by Ada - 27 October 2008
Whenever I have had cause to share with someone who was troubled and feeling alone at a thought or a feeling they had – I have often said "You are not the only one." "You are not alone." "There are others like you." And I was not lying. I truly believed that. I believe that there is someone else in the world who has been there, or done that, or thought or felt the same thing (or at least something comparative). Yet, I did not believe it for myself. Why? Is it because I didn’t know what troubled me? Because I felt ashamed? Because I didn’t know what it was called? I think, yes to all.
I thought I was the only one. I did. I don’t know why. continues »
by Jolina - 13 September 2008
I’m 42 and my name is Jolina. And I suffer from BIID for at least 34 years. My first BIID memories date from age 8 when I played with Barbie dolls of which I had ripped off the legs. I wanted the dolls to be like I wanted/needed to be. My life was already hell “thanks” to my cold and hateful parents and BIID did not help. I was in so much emotional pain that I banged my head against the wall till it was bloody. My parents saw it but never thought it was necessary to do something about my depression .
Desperate continues »© transabled.org - 1994-2012 - All Rights Reserved.