A lot of you wondered just what in the hell happened last Wednesday to upset me so. A few of you figured it out without my telling you. Some of you I talked to on the phone, some in messages. And others got to see my face at the time it happened. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t help that I’d been awake for 25 hours upon hearing the news, and that just amplified my reaction.
Let’s begin—for the newer readers—with my various health issues. I have autoimmune hepatitis (a rare liver disorder), fibromyalgia, and lupus (skin disorder). I also have two compressed discs in the lower lumbar region causing a pinched nerve that shoots pain down my left leg on a daily basis. What this means is that I am in pain nearly every single day. I’ve recently had a series of cortisone shots. They didn’t work. If you’ve ever had cortisone shots, you’ll understand the impact of my situation. If you haven’t, you have no idea what I’m talking about. In order to get the cortisone shots, you kinda need to be in a great deal of pain, and you can only get three in a year. For you to understand the level of pain I am in, I’ll tell you that I have an extremely high pain tolerance and if the average person felt the pain I feel on a daily basis, they’d very likely commit suicide or overdose on pain killers, which don’t work on nerve pain, by the way, so I’m not on any pain killers. So yeah, I’m stuck with the pain.
I hurt, people. A lot. It means I can’t do a lot of things, and when I do do certain things—like a con weekend—it takes me three to five days to recover from it. For me, the experience is worth the recovery time. Why? Because I get to meet some of the nicest people! I can’t really participate in sports anymore, which kinda sucks because I miss playing softball and volleyball. I miss going to the gym. I miss doing a helluva lot of things.
I applied for Social Security Disability two years ago, and I should have done it the year before that, but I didn’t because I was in a really bad not-able-to-think place. That’s what happens when your fiancé walks out on you, thereby causing me to lose nearly everything I’d worked for over a 25-year period of working.
Most of you know I’ve been fighting for disability for the past two years. Last Wednesday, I was denied for the fourth time and this was the reason for my little breakdown. For those of you who picked up on it right away and knew what was happening, thank you. That meant I didn’t have to explain it a bah-jillion times. It’s fucking ridiculous. I know there are people frauding the system and all it means is that the people who truly need it can’t get it. That pisses me off to no end.
So, my next step is to appeal it again. I’m also looking into hiring a new attorney. I have no idea how this will turn out. None.
Everything was riding on that approval: Umi’s supplemental insurance so she can get proper healthcare and not die on me; me fixing my credit that the ex obliterated three years ago; new tires for my truck before summer hits so I don’t blow one or more with this wonderful fucking Arizona heat; finishing my damn Bachelor’s degree . . . everything. And that’s not even all of it.
I’ve had a few people tell me to find a sugar daddy, which I think is just hysterical. I’m not looking for Prince Charming to come riding in on his white horse and save me. I’ll fix all of this my damn self, but if I can’t get the disability, it’ll take a lot longer than I’d planned. Some people probably think I’m just being lazy. I’d like them to walk for a day in my shoes and deal with the extreme pain that pain killers can’t kill, and take care of Umi and my handicapped dog. This shit isn’t easy, folks, and I sure as fuck didn’t think I’d be in this position at this age. I’m too young for this shit. I have no intentions of milking the system. I don’t want to be on disability for the rest of my life. It’s not my goal. I just need a little help right now, while I’m hurting, and I’ve needed that help for the past few years. If I get denied again, you can bet your ass that my congressmen and the President of the United States will be getting a letter from me.
Until then, I’m going to keep writing, keep making the jewelry and get my Esty site going, and doing whatever the hell else I can do to get myself to the point where I don’t need their fucking help. Which, of course, is likely when they’ll approve me.
That’s really all I can do. But I’m completely open to suggestions. By all means, there’s a comment box below. Have at it.
But honestly, I’ve been trying to build a few things for the past year, and a lot of it just got put on hold. That’s a major kick in the teeth. But you remember what I said about Life a while back, right? Yeah, that bitch will throw everything at you just to see what you’ll do with it. She’s taken me for quite the ride these past few years, but I’ll tell you this: I’m not ready to lie down and die for the bitch just yet, regardless of the amount of pain I’m in or the diseases that plague my body. She’s taken out a few rungs during my progress, but I keep climbing that fucking ladder through the difficulties of deaths and denials and pain and the fatigue I experience every goddamn day. I keep going because some of those difficult things can be taken care of right away. Some only hold me back a little, like the brain fog. But the impossible . . . well, that takes a little longer to work through. Nothing is impossible, in my opinion, and part of what I’m facing could be considered impossible.
I intend to prove the impossible wrong.
And how in the fuck did this turn into a strong post? Well, I’m back to my old self, the person that those of you who have only known me for a few years have never had the opportunity to meet. This is how quickly I bounce back now. In truth, I was fine on Thursday and already thinking of solutions.
It’s real nice to meet you. =)