A bit of a facer

Chris Burke contacted Disability Now because after years of trying to fit in and being rejected, he felt he needed to let rip

Technically, I’ve got cerebral palsy and hydrocephalus. The brain works fine. I’ve got 14 computing qualifications and an HND-equivalent.

But the face looks odd. And that’s what everyone sees first.

And that’s the reason that I’m stuck, at 46, in an old folks’ home – a sheltered housing scheme where no other resident is under 70.

If you’re a pink Shrek built by Frankenstein, it doesn’t matter what you try: you’re about as welcome as Tiger Woods at a KKK Golfing Convention.

I’ve had boiling water chucked over me, been stabbed several times, had all my teeth kicked out, had to spend a month in hospital getting my jaw wired back together and two months in hospital getting skin grafts over burns, and been beaten up and mugged more times than I care to go into.

I’m a target because I’m a spazz. I’m banned from many of the cafés and bars in my town because other people complain about having “something like that” in there. I got bouncered the other evening because a bunch of construction workers said they didn’t want their evening ruined by having to look at me. I’ve been asked to take my picture off dating sites because they don’t want to be reminded what I look like.

In 46 years I’ve never been accepted into a group of any kind. I used to get entire classes kicking the shit out of me at school. I don’t consider I have a social phobia and I’m happy to go up to anyone, but if they tell you to go forth and multiply, what do you do about it?

Younger males come out with things like “You waiting for Esmerelda, mate?” and “Not ringing any bells tonight, then?”

I get similar treatment from just about everyone and I’m beginning to realise it ain’t gonna change.

What’s sad is that you never hear this talked about on TV, which seems to give it tacit societal acceptance. People need something to band together against and spazzy Shreks like me seem to be it.

Physically I’m slightly disabled; mentally, I’m not. I feel I’m perfectly capable of employment or voluntary work. But when I offer my services, people keep saying “D’you think we want to scare our customers away?” – a recent remark by a chip-shop owner when I went for a job there.

I’ve spent years trying to get started and nobody ever lets you. I’ve had idleness enforced on me to the point where I want to explode. So please – any ideas?