I understand what you're getting at with your example. It reminds me of a story I read about in the New Yorker iirc about war tourists. There are civilians who have a sort of romanticized view of war and have paid large sums of money to be transported out to areas like Syria to help their Army fight for liberation. They stay for a month maybe, fire an AK a few times, teach the rebels how to dance the worm etc., but eventually they fly back to America. They may "help" fight in the war, but they don't help in the far less enticing reconstruction effort. They don't sit through endless meetings trying draft a new constitution (only to see if completely ignored), nor do they endure the loss and strife that comes with inter-regnum chaos.

A day of rolling around town doesn't include things like numerous trips to the doctor for routine check ups or dealing with issues like pressure ulcers, recurrent UTIs and the havoc they can bring, the cost of all of this, etc. They don't include the drop in lifetime earnings coupled with the actual cost of medical care over the lifetime, the depression, the sense of self that must be regained, the world that infrequently validates the person you used to be, the person you are, and the person you are becoming, etc. Black Like Me was a cool book, but ultimately the protagonist, despite his best efforts, was not black, and did not live the black experience.

In short, I think I know what you mean by dabbling, and it's something that concerns me too. In the same way, I worry about devotees only concerning themselves with certain elements of disability, and leaving behind others. There has been a lot of talk about the representation of women, and how this skews our understanding and expectations of them, and I wonder to what extent that happens in our communities as well.

I will say though that for many of us dabbling is the only option we have. The Hippocratic Oath and its whole piece about "first do no harm" stops virtually all doctors in the West from letting us do more than dabble. There were two people in the community I've heard talked about over the years who actually found a doctor though. The story goes that they flew down to Mexico, and for a large sum of money he amputated their legs. The operation went through but 2 weeks later, back in America, they died of gangrene.

My personal desire is to be paralyzed at the L1 level. In a perfect world that wouldn't involve incontinence or diminished sexual function, but I recognize that this is an inevitable consequence of the condition. I see it as sort of being like a moth to the flame, this is why I say that I cope with these desires. I just don't see BIID as describing my story, and I've known a few people who claim BID perfectly describes them.

I pretend on a daily basis in the privacy of my home. I think there are benefits and drawbacks to pretending publicly. I'd like to maybe try it some day, but I worry about what that means ethically. On one hand maybe it increases disabled visibility in daily life and makes people think more about accessibility and other issue, on the other hand while I don't seek pity it seems to inevitably follow, and I don't want defraud people out of whatever it is we give of ourselves when we pity others.

I have an ancient quickie wheelchair with broken brakes, a broken push handle (never wanted handles, and eventually they'll be removed) and leaky tires that I bought used from a guy who told me he was considering selling it for scrap metal. It's not great, and that's part of the point. There was a much nicer used Ti Lite I could have bought, but that one still had some years left in it, and I didn't think it right for me to I use that one. In any case I've taken a piece of legitimate medical technology away, and to offset this I donate money to the Free Wheelchair Mission which builds decent chairs for $80 a piece, and distributes them to the third world free of charge.

The big question you asked though is 'Why?'.

I don't know. My therapists don't know. My friends don't know. I've been a library rat at my uni reading all sorts of books. I know more about people like me than the mental health professionals I see, and end up having to answer their questions or explain things to them. Despite all of this I still don't know why I feel as I do.

It is possible that on some unconscious level there is something about pity going on, and I just can't detect it. Nobody is perfectly self aware after all. I just know I've always wanted it, since I was a little child. My earliest memories involve a care taker who was disabled, so maybe there's something to that. I don't know, and a while back I stopped looking for an answer because it was only holding me back to keep asking why.

These days its more about how do I go forward. How do I establish myself professionally, or find a partner for a long term relationship, all without lying about who I am. A big part of that involves talking with the disabled community, understanding and taking seriously their perspective and concerns, and hopefully doing something to promote understanding between us. Hence, this thread.