I don& #39;t know how much more often I can beg "please done kill me." I don& #39;t know how my life is worth less than the slight inconvenience of wearing a mask. I don& #39;t know how much longer I can cope with stories from able bodied friends about where they& #39;re going/what they& #39;re doing.1/4

I don& #39;t know how much longer I can say "no I can& #39;t leave the house at all bc people are being belligerent." I don& #39;t know how to tell able bodied people to care. Even if you& #39;re not scared, I& #39;m scared. Isn& #39;t that enough? Shouldn& #39;t that spur friends/family members to care? 2/4

I don& #39;t know how to explain that the economy will continue to decline as death counts rise. I don& #39;t know how to grieve with those who can& #39;t afford to isolate who are also scared. I don& #39;t know how to hold my community together when I have no resources, no energy, no stability. 3/4

I am endlessly thankful to my disabled community for being loud right now. For voicing fear. For fighting this. For protesting austerity. For demanding our rights to health care. But I& #39;m dismayed that we& #39;re still fighting for our lives every single day. 4/4 #DisabilityTwitter

Don& #39;t* of course I& #39;d have a typo after three scans of this thread. Of course. I am so so tired (but that antsy can& #39;t sleep without nightmares tired).