Memes Against People who aren't Handicapped Enough

This was posted on Facebook by a close relative with opposing political views. I left a comment because I need to know how not to become this meme. I'm posting that comment below because maybe others will have an answer.

☆It's not the judgment I worry about, it's the potential and likely violence from those judgemental people.☆

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Okay, kind of glad you shared this, because I have serious question. 100% genuine here, because I don't know and I need to know...

With the "new arrangement," I have to pick John up every night. But summer is coming. When I get back, there's usually no parking anywhere near my door. Which means John dragging my body,  again. But then the next day, I still have to get to my car to go get him, and I'm probably going to pass out in my parking lot and either die from suffocation or getting run over. The ONLY thing I could try to do is apply for a handicap parking thing.

But see this meme? It's why I haven't. (This one and a few similar.) Not just the memes, but I know that people genuinely feel this way. People who aren't going to stop to read my medical ID bracelet. People who will be jealous that I have a parking space and they don't and might stab me or shoot me at 1am. (Both have happened here to others in the last 4 years. So it's a legit concern.)

So what could I say to save my life? Keep in mind, in this circumstance, I'm not going to have enough air to make a whole sentence. And I'll be too close to blacking out to type. Sarcasm or flipping people off is going to get me stabbed faster.

As someone with this view, what 5 second reply could get you to change your mind and feel merciful enough to allow me, or someone like me, to pass?

The handicapped parking might not seem like this meme. But you've never seen me at the store in the summer, laying in a  aisle, tears streaming down my face, with no idea how I'll get back to my car. I'm not brave enough to grab one of these carts because of memes like this, and a fear that I'll get my ass kicked by someone who will see me walk 5 feet or 10 feet and decide I didn't have need of these. Renee (bff) and I have had this argument when I've refused to use one and she's had to drag my broken ass to the freezer. This meme isn't about me yet, but what terrifies me is knowing that it will be. And I don't know how to protect myself from this.

I'm seriously asking your advice here. I really have no idea how else to stay safe. I'm going to suffocate or I'm going to get my ass killed by someone who can't see that I'm broken.

Visually, I look okay. Just a big fat fatty, thanks to the steroids and inactivity the doctors recommend to keep me alive a little longer. Do I get a tattoo on my forearm announcing that I'm an easy kill, so please show mercy, because I can't breathe? Would that work?

I really need to know. All input is welcome. Because I'm against a clock. The 90° heatwave hits next week. The pain is coming. I need a defense. I need help. I'm afraid. I need armor of some kind to keep me from becoming this meme.

Can you help me come up with a defensive phrase?

Potential Meme -girl self esteem

Before we get all hung up on blaming society,  magazines,  models,  and Hollywood... How about if we take a second to check what dear old dad has displayed as a fantasy woman? Frued wasn't entirely wrong,  after all. Is it a scientist of the month calendar hanging next to the tool box? I'm just putting it out there that whatever women a dad shows his daughter as his ideal is what she'll first strive to be when she hits puberty. That switch from wanting to be mom to wanting to be who dad defined as his fantasy. The moment it clicks in the mind that MOM ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH. She didn't manage to remain the fantasy. (*There are men who manage to be the exception. Congratulations. There are also gay dads, but I'm not sure how they portray women to their daughters-- I imagine it varies.)

The good news is that a lot of girls grow up and get over this. We stop seeking that approval. Some of us just don't put up with not being the fantasy because we've realized that there's always some other guy out there who WILL treat us like the fantasy.

Just thought I'd share this insight after my dad has sent me yet another sexist joke which I've come to just roll my eyes at because I've long since realized that's the height of his regard. I love him, but he's beyond change. He grew up learning that this behavior was okay. If I had a son, I would hope to teach him better.

Seems society is going the way of just giving males the same body issues. No six pack abs, no love.

Survival of the fittest. We aren't beyond caveman instincts yet. We haven't become a world longing for technological and cultural advancement yet-- That's only some of us, not a majority.

Maybe one day.

14 years of #fail

Blame, compliain, ungrateful

I'm having a difficult time deciding how I feel about this meme, as it applies to a large chunk of my life.

Let me try something:

1. It is MY fault that I went to work. Having a job is just ASKING for exposure to a chemical that was handled improperly and not reported. I should have ____ instead of working. (No idea what goes on the blank.)

2. Yay! I sure do enjoy being unable to do my job anymore. It's super awesome to never be medically released,  but also not be able to collect disability because the doctors (darn, about to blame...)
Because I don't have a medical degree to prove what's wrong. And rah, rah, sis boom bah, I had the pleasure of giving all my money to pay for extra pain and suffering which,  fortunately,  never undid the damage from those chemicals. Hippy hippy hooray, I went bankrupt! And a big three cheers for every time I can't go somewhere because the heat means serious trauma or certain death.

3. I'm grateful they brought me back from the end of living. I'm super happy to know that I'm probably not going to grow old. And, whew, dodged a real bullet finding out that my broken body probably wouldn't survive carrying a child,  so that dream is dead.

I tried. It sounds sarcastic.
The truth is,  I'm angry. I can't accept this thing I can't change. I've been failing at life since July 5, 2002 - nearly 14 years - because I keep wishing for my body back. Wanting to be able to walk up the steps. Needing to be able to get from the car to the store. Hating every family gathering that I can't attend because I can't breathe. Or going and sitting inside alone (or with John) while everyone else is outside. And pretending that doesn't hurt. Watching everyone have fun through a window.  Like I'm a ghost.

Like I'm a ghost already.

I hate this meme. I hate not being able to do simple things. I hate that I'm alone 39 hours a week because it's safest this way. I hate not working. I hate not having coworkers,  not having a boss,  not having a purpose. I hate not getting a paycheck. I hate getting stuck in traffic in the summer and,  even though my car is new,  I can't get it to drop the temperature 40° F, and then feel like I might pass out. I'm terrified of how that would turn out. And moments like that actually ARE my fault,  because I know better than to take those risks. But it's hard to be alive and not live.
(*Live sounds like liver, not hive.)

It's also hard to carry around an extra 140 pounds.  The cost of taking steroids and being told to stay as still as possible as often as possible. Really? That's horrible advice! Yet more than one doctor suggested that or something similar. "It hurts because you aren't supposed to do that. You've got limitations. Be patient and kind with your body." THIS DOES NOT FEEL KIND.

I can scream-type all day,  it won't change a thing.

The meme is probably right. Look at my life. Fail isn't exactly inaccurate.

But damn, that's a harsh thing to point out. Could the writer swap lungs with me for a few years? I'm curious if I could go back to being a success once I'm not tied down with this. And,  OBVIOUSLY,  a little thing like constant pain and not breathing isn't going to hold him/her back. Come on,  it's just a little lung transplant...