Archive for the disability Category

Disability

Posted in anxiety, bipolar depression, bipolar disorder, disability with tags , , , , , , , on July 30, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I’ve only had my disability claimed reviewed like 3 times.(Probaby be up for it soon.) Which is stressful to the max. But the ONE part that always gets me is when they ask how does your condition impact your daily life to the point it disablws you?

Well, let’s see. There is this from yesterday, a simple trip to Wal-Mart.

My kid has a doctor appointment today and I AM THE ONE WITH ANXIETY, on pins and needles.

My every day starts out with one hour of consciousness before I am counting the hours til bedtime because I can’t stand living in this hopeless dark space.

I no longer feel safe, even in my own home, so I am never calm or reassured.

I have unchecked paranoia born of this anxiety, convinced even the cats are sometimes out to ‘get me’.

It’s omly (nearly) August and I am already in dread and meltdown mode of the upcoming seasonal affective disorder and its crippling months long depression. Which considering I haven’t even managed to conquer the depression during the summer months, normally my happy time, I am PETRIFIED of the darkness I may be facing.

I don’t date. I don’t socialize. I don’t really enjoy much in life. Everything is a fake out, plastering on the smiles and forced conversation so others don’t feel uneasy and don’t think I am an unfit mother.

I am STUCK with a psych nurse who is so inept she can’t even make eye contact with me and does not listen to me, at all. That is disabling in and of itself because that is the ONE person whose responsibility it is to make you feel better, not worse.

See, it’s not any one thing. It’s the whole mish mash combination of situational depression and anxiety on top of the disorders that do hinder my progression in life.

For anyone who does not think this is a disability is ignorant.

How does it impact my life…

Easier question would be, how does it not muck up my life. It’d be a very short list because I can’t even be trusted to practice proper hygiene when I am in these mental states. I already feel emotionally naked, so I guess the thought of being truly naked and bathing and being vulnerable is too terrifying, not to mention exhausting.

My kid has the appointment, I am breaking out in hives.

I am going swimming Friday with her day camp as it is the final day and picnic and they are paying. I will have my curse by then but I will buy the necessary product and I found a swimsuit in the closet that fits and I am terrified of the public but I promised my daughter because it means a lot to her. It will take a lot out of me but..failing her in big ways is not an option. I fail her daily in so many little ways. Like not being happy happy joy joy mom. By always being so jumpy and nervou that she can’t even play a ‘boo’ joke because she knows it sends me into panic meltdown.

Next Sunday is her bday party at the pool, which took some tooth pulling to get that date. My mom was hell bent on it being the Saturday before her bday but my sister is the organizer and we both agreed we don’t want to go on a busy Saturday where Spook might not have much fun with it so packed. I consider it a victory that my sis and I agreed and vetoed my mom. Not like mom will swim, so I don’t know why it matters if she sits at a picnic table on the outside looking in.

Returning to this pool for the first time since I was 13 is going to be tough. They were the idiots who wouldn’t let me in because my legs were covered in flea bites, I had a doctor note saying so, and they said I was contagious. I was humiliated and never never went back. But hey, I’m damn near fifty years old, time to suck it up and let it go. Unless they do it again, I do have a few bites on my ankles but mostly because I am very allergic to flea bites. My kid gets a bite, she has one mark. I get a bite, I get all over red spots that itch so I dig in with my nails and…You get the gist.

Anyway…How does it impact my life?

I think this diatribe says it all. Some people just won’t listen because it would require them to open their minds and let go of longheld biases.

My family being the worst of that lot.

Yes, doubters and haters, mental health disability is a legitimate problem and until you’ve walked around with distorted thoughts and felt utterly black inside for no discernable reason and are convinced you are unsafe even in your own home…

Your input is pointless and unwanted.

Grief

Posted in anxiety, depression, disability with tags , , , , , , , on July 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

One of kittens got under my car today and died. I didn’t know he was under there, I usually honk to spook them away. Today I didn’t because I swore I did a headcount and they were all on the step. I buried Tyketto and have spent an hour crying and grieving. I am just…shattered. It was an accident but this does not assauge my guilt. I feel like the most vile person on the planet right now and the day is young.

All I need is my dad calling me over and over and bitching at me. And they’re supposed to mow my lawn which means I mow, stepmonster sits on a rider, and they both scream at me how I am doing it wrong and it doesn’t look pretty. They mow their neighbor’s yard and never yell at her or guilt her.

My hatred for them grows by the day. My dream is to move Spook far away from this toxicity called my family. My mom babies her, my dad treats her like she’s a grown up and shouldn’t have tantrums and should be mowing lawns.

This day sucks. I just want to feel nothing and silently grieve for my cat and flog myself with guilt.

And I know what my dad will say. “No use crying, it’s done and you have too many cats anyway.” Yes, he has said that many times when we’ve lost a cat.

He’s a monster. And his woman is the bride of the fucking monster, minus the legal status.

Just let me grieve.

But so I can’t be accused of not trying, I did fill out an application on line for sandwich artist. Those personality tests are a bitch because I can’t say people don’t get offended by the things I say because they do. But it’s not like I’d do it in a paid work position, ffs. If I want to call my dad a fucking asshole, well, that’s our family dynamic.I should lie, I know. Personality tests are bullshit anyway. If they wanted to truly know you, they’d give you situations and ask you to write a paragraph explaining how you would handle it within the company rules and respect and satisfaction for the customer.

Okay, the tears are coming again. I don’t want to drip on the laptop.

Work From Home-PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE HELP A DISABLED PERSON

Posted in disability, employment, work from home with tags , , on July 6, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

My dad is on my ass like a diaper again about working. I don’t know why he thinks it is his business, I am not asking him for anything. I am not stable enough to risk my disability by working in an environment that time after time has reduced me to a nervous breakdown. I have told him to mind his own damn business, he lets it go for a day after screaming bloody murder at me, then starts in again.

The village lot lizard and meth whore got hired at fast food hell so now he thinks I MUST go work there. Just eating there with all the noise about does me in. He won’t listen, he doesn’t care. It’s his way or he chews my ass into submission.

If anyone knows of anything I can do from home via computer and internet, God knows, I am a hard worker, but I have limitations. I know I have been singing this same old tune for months and most home gigs are scams, but I really need some ideas here to get him off my back. I can’t risk our insurance coverage by earning too much, I can’t risk my disability by going to work and they decide I am cured when clearly, I am a bit of a trainwreck after the Abilify side effect debacle. Not to mention I can barely drive in town since they cut my Xanax.

If anyone reads this and has any ideas-I don’t even care if it’s balloon porn at this point- speak up. This man is edging me toward self harm because he calls FOUR times a day every day to chew on this topic. If you can’t help me with the job aspect, can you come kick his redneck ass? JOKE.

I really need some ideas, guys.

Poverty Shaming

Posted in anxiety, depression, disability with tags , , , , , , on June 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I think it’s time for me to tackle this issue. And if you think it’s not an issues, well, you must live in wealthy Pegacorn head up your ass world. The current social media culture has turned shaming into a national past time. “Slut shaming”, “Body Shaming”, “Fat shaming”, “Lunch shaming”, ‘ parent shaming’. Now it’s poverty shaming, where people look down on you for being broke even though you are not some standard issue hobo living out of a boxcar. No matter what your situation, you are a bum and you are lazy.

Personally, even though by every standard state and federal, my income puts us below poverty level…I’ve never much thought about poverty in reference to how me and Spook live. Cash poor, hell yeah. But we have a (rental) home with indoor plumbing. We own a fridge and microwave and stove and have an AC unit in the window and have food. We have a car that runs. We have tablets, laptops, computer towers, three flat panel TVs (all bought used, btw). Dear God, just listing what we do have makes me feel like, damn, how dare you complain when others don’t even have that much. I am just trying to make the point that living below poverty level doesn’t equal homelessness or laziness or being ‘a bum’. And ‘disability shaming’ is pretty lame, too, and it is a thing. My own family does it. Asking for help doesn’t make you ungratefil or lazy or evil. Maybe it makes you annoying but how about we do a case study for myth busting purposes?

I have $835 a month coming in.
My bills come to $783 a month.
I live in the sticks so I have to have gas to get the car to town just to look for work. I have to feed and litter my cats because I can’t find homes for them and they are NOT going to the kill shelter and the no kill has no space. We don’t have cable. I drive a $475 car that is 18 years old and has over 225,000 miles on it.

When we got child support, our income was increased by $380 a month. He hasn’t paid a cent since last September so his actions have put us behind to the tune of seven grand, at least. The system is not interested in penalizing him in the least. He will be charged the back support, of course, but it will be in $7 installments per week, so there is no ‘payday’ coming our way ever.

So losing that income hurt and I tried to juggle and I look for work and I go on interviews and I lick my rejection wounds day after day…I do away with internet and home phone and stick to my prepaid tracfone with its monthly 2 gig of data. We don’t go anywhere if we don’t have errands to run. The cats eat the cheapest gruel possible, the cheapest litter I can find. We use single ply toilet paper, dollar shampoo, and even dollar laundry soap. I cannot possibly cut any more ‘fat’ off the budget.

How did we get here where outgoing exceeds incoming?

Our old landlord fucked us over by selling the place where we’d lived 9 years out from under us. Buy in or get out. Well, bad credit and common sense kept me from that ‘deal’ and thank god cos the people who stayed ended up owing three times their old amount per month. I purposely kept us there because I could swing the rent, power, internet, and still have gas and food and cat supplies. Because water and trash were included with the lesser rent amount than we pay here, giving me a little excess to wiggle with. We had two weeks to get out of there, which meant carrying over an existing power bill, which jacks up my bill every month for that old deferred balance. I had to cover a security deposit and first monnth on this place. Hundred dollar deposit for water service which never runs under $67 a month. Gas is up to @2.99 a gallon and a trip to town ends up being about 28 miles round trip so about $4 a trip. Now my kid wants to go to day camp and I said ok, because I was expecting a low ball power bill. Instead I got kicked in the face with what the amount due actually was. But I paid it even though I am now broke for the next 3 weeks. No gas money beyond one week but I can’t bring myself to break her heart and cancel the camp all together.

So let’s review. Landlord screwed us over so we were forced to move in a brief time and had to take whatever house we could get in Armpit to avoid homelessness. Donor up and quit paying support putting us thousands behind in income. I have been looking for work since October and have had so many rejections, I’d probably self harm if that were my default. Because feeling like a loser every single day doesn’t do much to improve my mental health.

Then I get hit with disability shaming and poverty shaming. Oh, unemployment shaming, too.

I wonder if the people guilty of this sort of thing are aware they do it. If they became aware, would it change their nastiness? It is so easy to judge others when you don’t walk in their shoes and their experience is not yours. I personally can’t relate to wealthy people, they are like aliens to me and make me uneasy. So I guess it’s fair that people with jobs and excess income feel uncomfortable around ‘impoverished’ people.

Thing is…I don’t consider us impoverished. Just cash poor and in need of some very good luck and a break or two. Now with my pessimism and depression, if I can see things objectively, why can’t others at least try viewing it through my eyes? I’m not saying we own nothing. I am not saying we are starving. I am not saying BUY US FANCY STUFF COS WE ARE SAD THAT WE DON’T HAVE ANY SHINY PRETTY THINGS. But the fundraising shaming ends now. People do it all the time. Politicians do it every single damn day and pull in thousands…for what? A chance to run at office? A chance to tell people lies to get in then not keep any promises? People believe in that more than they believe in a single mom trying to do right by her kid.

Would it help if I donated half of all donations to the local no kill animal shelter? Do an ice bucket challenge? Dress up like a clown and twerk in a video? Because I’m all out of dignity here. My dignity is not as important as my daughter’s well being. So if you don’t like fundraisers and can’t simply ignore it and enjoy my writing anyway…Why are you here except to be toxic? Yes, spam comments, I am talking about YOU. I know you have to take spam as a joke but sometimes…it still irks me.

In closing…be grateful for what you have and that you are in a better place than us. Just don’t judge us because we would still be at our old place, rickety as it was, making ends meet without help, if two unscrupulous men had not forced their evil on us and left us in the lurch. We may be cash broke but we are grateful for every little ‘luxury’ we have. That’s a hell of a lot more than most wealthy people can say about themselves. They take everything for granted.

We take nothing for granted.

If you won’t do it for her, do it for this pic of me looking like a demon from Supernatural. (Hate most of my pics but loooove this one, I look so evil.)

And if you’re guilty of shaming people for whatever reason…just stop doing that, please. You don’t know til you’ve walked in these worn out old shoes.

The Unemployment Olympics Winner…or finding work when disabled

Posted in disability, employment, working with disabilities with tags , , , , , , , on May 9, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So like you know how I am always saying we have 8o people applying for one minimum wage position?

Kennel Assistant
Country Club Kennel
Franklin, IL
Your application status
Submitted 13 days ago
You applied
13 days ago
Job listing is currently
Open
Other Indeed applicants
63

Yes, 63 other applicants for the kennel job. Many of who likely have kennel experience, current positive references and recent employment references.

I think this is where I get so frustrated. It isn’t that I am not trying hard enough, it is that I am literally in rural rock and a hard place territory. So perhaps I’m not unemployable, I’m just not heavily desired as an employee.

But it proves what I say is true and that I am applying for the positions. I have a few apps still open but some are closed meaning I didn’t get it and that’s a bummer cos I don’t need the money to put gas in my shiny car and run around all summer socializing or buy designer clothes or fancy computer or gamer equipment.

I have a child to raise, alone, no child support, no coparenting, just me.

That is why every job failure stings so much. Were I doing it for shallow or selfish purposes, maybe I’d deserve rejection. But my motives are pure, my determination strong as iron. The one handicap I have going against me is neither physical nor mental. It is an economically oppressed rural geography.

I am gonna keep trying. I have the best reason to stand tall and hang tough and I call her Spook. I am all she has and I am gonna prove to her, and to myself, and all my detractors, that I can do better for her, for myself.

spook and me tree

IMG_20180513_111607

 

 

Unemployable, Unapproachable, Unlikeable, Unheard

Posted in depression, disability with tags , , , , , , on April 8, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So, my brief vlog requesting help was an epic fail. Feel free to rehash said failure and laugh at the disintegrating husk of a human that is me. Because deafening silence may as well be laughter. I mean, not one person could comment, “Hang in there” or offer to help me write a resume? No one could say, hey, I’ll help you set up a fundraising campaign and teach you to use social media to promote it…NO ONE? Yet, I spout off some barely coherent verbal vomit for 20 minutes and it gets 30 likes? Not that my verbal vomit isn’t awesome and also, suckily true, but…geesh. This mental health community here on wordpress has gone to hell in a handbasket compared to what it was just 5 years ago. When people did more than click like, when they reached out, commented, tried to interact without being bullies, weren’t afraid to say, hey, you’re manic, slow down, or hey, you’re getting close to hospitalization, take a breath and talk to me…

I am truly disappointed in wordpress. I got more support from msn chat even after it became a paid service. But I guess I wasn’t always spewing on about money problems as it was just me and a cat and I could make ends meet because I hadn’t been forced to move to a place I can’t afford in fucking Armpit where my child and I are both on the edge of a nervous breakdown. A fundraiser to get us the hell out of this place and back to where we call ‘home’ and would be more at peace is an AWESOME IDEA. Yet that gets no encouragement. Not a comment, barely a like or two. Help me find a job since my brain is rattled, I can’t even comprise an updated resume, thoughts anyone? No. Just crickets.

But alas, I cannot blame wordpress because I’ve seen other blogs. The ones I am too much of a snob to truly interact with because they have thousands of followers and hundreds of likes and dozens of comments and frankly, I just don’t dig the popular people. I like the underdog. Guess I was counting on finding others who do,too.

Bottom line, seems, I am unemployable, unapproachable, unlikeable, and thus, unheard.

It stings but it’s not exactly new for me. And I know I have at least one friend out there who’d at least listen to me bitch and bawl but I’ve been such an unreliable friend to her as of late due to my mental problems, I probably shouldn’t hold my breath.

So, sage wordpressers…If you don’t like me enough to interact with a verbal high five or fist bump but do hit the like button…What can I do to make myself more approachable?

I was told I can be intimidating. I just don’t see it. I swear a lot, big fucking deal. Try talking like a priest when you were raised by a truckdriver.I am sarcastic. Well, it was the only thing that saved me from self destruction in high school so I’ll be keeping that one weapon in my arsenal. Stop bitching and moaning? That’s my therapy. Stop having money problems and just get a job? I HAVE A DISABILITY, which no one seems to remember or lend any credence.

This morning my kid and I were both melting down. Her with anger, me with tears. I am overwhelmed and about to just drive myself to the fucking psych ward. But then what? What good would that do except to jack up a hospital bill, a ‘crazy person’ checkmark when I renew my driver’s license next and they ask the humiliating question about being in a psych hospital in the last four years…I’d come home to the same housework, same fiancial stress, no job, and more disdain from my family than I already have.

Ya know what would help me? Getting some help to get caught up on the bills. Getting $400 to buy a device that is supposedly 80% more effective on depression than pills alone but insurance won’t even pay for me to try it so I will never know…Hearing positive stuff instead of my family’s constant criticism. Getting some money toward the end goal of getting us moved back home, to town, where we were both in better mental states. Getting my mind straightened out so when I am filling out job applications and it asks, “Do you think you can maintain objective emotions when dealing with a hostile client?” I’d like to be able to say it because I mean it and not be a hypocrite and a liar just because society doesn’t hold mental disability in as high regard as physical disability.

I WANT to work. I just want to do it in a way that I can maintain. I don’t want it to be temporary or seasonal or ‘a good try’. I want it to last so I never ever have to end up in this situation again, in this mental space, filled with so much self loathing and helplessness.

I want to be a better version of myself. I will still be sarcastic and foul mouthed, but perhaps I could get to the point of not thinking the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train.

I want to get caught up on all these monthly expenses. The donor and my inability to find work have placed us in an untenable position. And we have nowhere to go if I can’t find some way to get caught up. I’ve offered up account numbers for the bills to be paid directly as opposed to cash exchaning hands. And yeah, I know most people are in the same boat, struggling to make ends meet and how dare I even ask…

I dare to ask because I also know there are some people out there with a little more than others, who have kind hearts and generous spirits and believe in paying it forward. Because I believe in all of that and if I can ever get out of the hole circumstances beyond my control dug me into…

I want to add meaning to my life by helping others. I’d like to do volunteer work with animals and children. I’d like to have an on line ebay store for all my yard sale finds. I’d like my daughter to be proud of me.

If you can find anything in there that isn’t me wanting to do better, please do tell.

And because I am realistic and know I lack the charisma it takes for people to truly invest and help raise what we need…I guess I had just hoped I’d get a ‘don’t give up’ comment. It may not help with the bills but it reminds me people aren’t total assholes and do care.

Many, I know, click the like button and in spirit are saying they have no helpful words but ‘get it’.

Occasionally, though…my inner needy bitch needs a few actual words beyond the like button. Even if it’s some troll hating on me, it means I sparked interest. As a writer…that counts for everything.