Note: I will not provide any links to the megabus website in this post. I refuse to send more business their way. Besides, it’s not really about them.
You know that saying “You get what you pay for?” That’s what megabus.com reminded me about. We were going on a mini-vacation to Las Vegas this past weekend and thought we scored a mega deal with the megabus company. I paid for my ticket and my boyfriend rode free as my caregiver. SCORE! We knew what we were getting into: 5-7hrs in a cramped bus through the desert to our beloved desert oasis. We saved so much money. We didn’t feel rushed through lines at the airport. Can’t beat it, right?!
That happy travel glow was Sunday, the 25th Anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act and also Parent’s Day (who knew?!). That glow faded as soon as our return bus arrived. To keep a very long story short I will give you the bullet version:
- MegaBus driver was wholly unprepared and didn’t have a key to open the ramp door.
- Me and another passenger had to be taken off the list and travel on another bus 3 hours later. We didn’t get to LA’s Union station until almost 2:30am. I didn’t get to Long Beach until after 4am because no accessible cabs were available at that time of night.
This list can keep going but the point is this: One bad apple spoils the whole bunch. I appreciate the discounted fares that all customers pay but, I don’t think I can do that again for one reason:
It made me dislike myself and hate my disability
The tears began to roll because I was so upset. But was all that anger at the MegaBus? I’m not sure. Now that I think over my thought processes of the day I realize that it was split into threes. I was angry at MegaBus for stranding me and the complete insensitivity. I was angry because…because if I weren’t disabled I wouldn’t have this problem. I was angry with MegaBus for making me feel that way. But, the truth is MegaBus didn’t make me feel that way.
The truth is I took a situation and internalized it. I will not apologize for my feelings. I just know that internalization leads to more emotions and thoughts which leads to depressive episodes. Depression. That’s not their fault. It’s no one’s fault. But it’s how I felt: Angry because I couldn’t walk up a half of a step to enter the bus and that my boyfriend had to sit with me for 3 hours plus another 7hrs on the bus even though he had work the next morning. Angry because it was one more reminder of the things I can’t do. I can’t climb stairs or step off curbs or be able-bodied. But I can be angry. I’m allowed that every so often. I can’t be the happy go-lucky “look at the rainbows” girl all the time. I feel things too.
I have feelings too.
And they are real.
Thursday my city had another blackout and I had another panic attack. I had another depressive episode because I remembered what happened during the last blackout two weeks ago. I was trapped. I was helpless. All of my independence was stripped away by something that happened in another neighborhood. So I cried. I felt. I felt behind closed doors just so no one could say I was complaining or ungrateful. Then I got more upset because I hated that I couldn’t be open about how I felt.
Living life on four wheels IS a workout. It’s not just the physical kind. No. It’s emotional ups and downs. It’s a trial of strength and endurance. It is a lifelong test of how well I can make lemonade. Usually, it’s great! But this week my lemon-squeezing skills were lacking.