Sometimes being disabled makes me angry. It's usually when I'm in a situation where I feel vulnerable, looked down upon or exploited. This week has unfortunately seen such a situation arise.
The fact that I am also a female came into it too, so I'm doubly exploited and so twice as angry.
It's all to do with some work we had done at a family property. Work that didn't come up to standard. Work that we may yet need to officially complain about. And treatment when we tried to tackle the firm involved that fell only a hairs breadth away from outright abuse.
I don't need to be made to feel vulnerable and frightened in a house that once held many happy memories for me. To be made conscious of the fact that I am a female, on her own upstairs with a stranger, conscious of the fact I have limited brain capacity to try and reason with the towering, raging hulk before me let alone the physical strength to fight him off if things turn nasty.
Things didn't turn nasty, but only because the cavalry arrived. And yes, one of them was a bloke. How pissed off do I feel that I had to be 'rescued' in such a manner? That I thought of all the smart answers hours later? That I know we've been ripped off big time?
Very, very pissed off indeed. But I won't say any more just in case I need to get the big guns in and go legal. Which, considering another family member had to be checked over by paramedics following the incident, could well happen.