I am sure many of you have not had a chance to read yesterdays blog, that’s okay, I have a new rant and rave that is going to probably bore you just as much. Go Figure.
I got word today that that the wonderful people at Helpless Financial have denied my claim for my disability benefits again. Ms. X would not even give me the information when I requested it on Tuesday. Today is Friday, and I got the Information From Ms. D at my work. Or what used to be my work.
It amazes me that a person who wants to work, and can not is unable to get help, yet people who do not want to work, and know how to run around the system can get food, housing, and utility assistance. However because I spent my life working I have no idea how the hell the systems can be worked to my advantage. So I get fucked, my fiancé is fucked, and we are left wondering how to pay for our $450 a month apartment.
Curious isn’t it? Strange, that I paid into my disability fund, and now I cant use it; cannot get the money back. It is no wonder how sick and disabled people end up destitute and even end up homeless and lost.
Now where do we go? What’s next? Well we keep fighting the good fight.
And the first rule of fighting Helpless Financial; don’t talk about Fighting Helpless Financial.
It is amazing to me that society holds “Journaling” so dear to its heart. I have recently been sucked into the weekly ritual of watching Grey’s Anatomy (Those of you who are guilty of this perpetration of brain washing know who you are and have been forced to fish and play video games already heehee). Now in this show they show in season one a “journal” of video surgeries, and in season five, they show a box full of actual “journals” from before one of the characters parents lost their mind to Alzheimer’s.
It’s been shown in books and movies “The Notebook” and “Reign Of Fire”. So “Journaling” is used for everything from serious to action to comedy.
Now, as you loyal patrons of my ramblings know, Doc P is my shrink, and she says to me, “maybe we should try journaling” I looked at her and said, “What do you mean we? You mean I should try journaling right? I mean really you are not going to journal your life and share with me, you want me to write and give my daily life to you spilled out on paper, hell I might as well write an autobiography and try to sell it and make money on it then.” The looks I get from her from time to time are priceless; I wish I could tape them and post them here for you all to see.
Thus, I informed Doc P, I have been blogging, and that should suffice just fine for my Journaling for now. She agreed, and so I being the ranting and rambling of another blog…Therapeutically of course…
So…to continue my thoughts (and my Journaling heehee)… I wonder if SHE needs therapy after her visits with me. I mean after all, I did make my forth grade and seventh grade teachers cry. I mean my seventh grade teacher switched to teaching first grade after one year in seventh teaching my class (hell there was only 17 of us) I wonder if they needed therapy (maybe they just talked to the Priests, I don’t know).
Any way back to the good Doc P, I like her more and more though, however I wonder if I don’t verbally assault her a little because I am testing her, testing the water to see what she can handle.
We all test people from time to time. Even those we try not to test, our most precious loved ones, and sometimes we test them the most. E tells me that sometimes, that I test her, push her to see how far I can push. Another self defense mechanism, another way to keep people at an arms distance, never let anyone in too close, keep the masses out of my world.
And then, there was E. And then there was Max. You know, I never went near kids before, they scared me, I finally figured it out, they could see me, my vulnerabilities, see right through me.
I remember sitting with E, her telling me she wanted to introduce me to her best friend. Allyson, she is married to a nice guy (it took me months to remember their names), and they have a son about six months old named Max. My neck bristled, (I knew she spent Thursdays there, every week, they are great friends) I broke into a cold sweat, and re-enforced the “I really don’t like kids Erika” statement I had made when we had first started dating.
There was something about that kid. I have talked to my shrink about it (hence the journaling came up cause I could not put it in words) and I still can’t put my finger on it. I feel bad now; thinking back on the first time Allyson met me. She must have been terrified thinking of Erika being with someone who flat out told her when they first met that she “really, I don’t like children and they don’t like me”. Poor Allyson must have felt almost sick to her stomach. But she was cheerful and sweet, talkative and kind.
The first time I saw Max, we were all having coffee, he was in his stroller, I don’t know, I looked at him, he was cute, and I knew he saw right into me the way kids do, you know? The way they can look into your soul, we as adults lose that as we grow up. It is the thing that makes us figure out there is no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. The thing that makes us leery of every person who walks down the street, and makes us fearful in our own homes on a stormy night. That thing that makes it so if we don’t see the world it cant see us, or our huddling under a blanket with a friend will keep us safe from the boogeyman. In all the children I have met in my life, I never felt the calm I felt when that little man looked into my eyes and saw me. Normally, it freaks me out, but not that time. And to this date he never has.
Max has never once said my name. He does not call me on the phone. When I walk in the room, he does not turn and say hello. He does not voice to me in the way adults do. However, he never forgets me. He may not be able to say my name, but when I walk into the house, he genuinely hugs me, and smiles, and laughs. An adult will be so focused on your name you will get a half smile, a limp handshake, and a how are you, and they will never get your name. But this little boy remembers.
I think the best way to tell what I am talking about is when I went to Houston for work. I was going for a year. I was very upset, I had been spending a lot of time with Max, I remember having quite a few conversations with E about my concerns about if he would remember me when I got a chance to come back and visit him. Despite her attempts to calm me about this, and tell me that he would remember me playing on the floor with him, reading to him, hugging him before bed, etc, I was still upset and agitated by the whole thing.
I went to Texas in the beginning of June. I called home every day, saw E on web cam, called when she was with Max, had her give him hugs from me, and tell him I loved him every chance she got.
The first chance I got I hopped a plane to Kentucky for a long weekend; I made sure it was for Max’s Birthday. There was no way I was missing his first birthday. I did not care if I had to walk from Texas to Kentucky; I was going to be there to see him turn 1. I was going to be there for cake, and presents, and everything in between. While I was gone, I started not feeling well (loyal readers you know all about so we wont delve into that here and now) so I could not get on the floor and play with Max when I saw him. But I held him and hugged him, and everyone was talking, “see he remembers you, we told you he would” I was not convinced, and then, the miracles of all miracles.
I was sitting at the dinning table looking into the kitchen talking to Max’s mommy and E, he crawled right over in front of me; me sitting in that chair towering over him; him with his happy smiles and giggles, he looked right up at me, took his little hand, and patted the floor three times. He looked at me, the look in his eyes saying “why aren’t you down here where you are supposed to be playing with me?”
I don’t cry.
I want to make that very clear, (Doc P is trying to change this, my emotions are a little too in check I guess, LOL) but that, in that moment, I welled up. Not only did he remember me, he remembered how we played, and wanted me to play with him. Never was I a more proud Auntie than in that moment. And yes, I am Max’s Aunt. Maybe not by blood, but then there are some things that are stronger.
Journaling? I don’t Journal. I Blog. And yeah, Doc P can read it if she wants, and she probably will, since I told her Journaling wont work, but I will blog for hours, LOL. It suits my “addictive personality” as E and I describe it.
So there you go Doc, what I could not get into with you in session. What really chokes me up? What really makes me smile?
And now? Would Allyson worry about Max and me? Naw.
In Fact, babysat for him, I see him every week, help get him ready for bed, play with him on the floor when I can, and when his baby Sister or Brother is born…I am going to be right there…Still Blogging.
Well, It has been a few weeks since I have written, and those of you watching, know that, I apologize for my absence, however, to use Corky’s words “it’s been crazy”.
I won’t bore you with the flood of minor details, but a cascade of insanity is so worth it.
The Friday before Thanksgiving say, I made my infamous Apple Cider Turkey, and a little birdie told me that it turned out pretty good. I had some of the best home made mashed potatoes I have ever had. I pride myself on being able to make taters from scratch, but Keith made some that were worthy of a pilgrims feast. Now most people will tell you that Thanksgiving must be a glutinous gorging feast of variety and quantity, however, I found that our simple four person thanksgiving of turkey, mashed potatoes, and canned jelled cranberries, and of course Allyson’s Pumpkin Pie with the ever glutinous whip cream.
We sat at that table the four of us, eating until our plates were empty; all told we ate maybe 5 pounds of the 19.5-pound turkey. We ate mashed potatoes and cranberries, we laughed, Erika was drinking wine right from the bottle, me? I was an Ice Tea person, Allyson was all about the caffeine free, (baby on the way smile smile wink wink) and Keith was drinking Coke. I don’t think I have ever been a part of such a wonderful thanksgiving. Turkey me this and Turkey me that, forget the figgy pudding, I’ll take my thanksgiving every year just like that.
Now I AM A Grinch When It Comes To Christmas But...I Digress:
The Christmas tree is up, the stockings are hung by doorway with care, and Athena is hoping St Nick will soon be here. Erika made an ornament in the window between the kitchen and living room of blue and silver and lights. And that’s it, Christmas is hung and twinkling galore. I am not into the holiday, though I am assured that it will be one for the books. I don’t know about all of that, though I am looking forward to watching Max open gifts, and seeing him play with the boxes that thing come in. I mean really what one-year-old wants a toy when they can have the box it comes in? Right? I mean really, a box can be anything; a toy can only be what the manufacturer makes it. Speaking of Max, I have some Glorious News…the words spoken on Friday Night (and yes I have witnesses people) was FOOTBALL. I am not kidding; he walked up to Keith, took the football from his hand and said “FOOTBALL”. Now, Erika, Allyson, Keith, and I were all there, and I am not kidding, the kid is a genius. He has this down pat. That was the buzz all night.
Now onto to the hardcore stuff…
I have been going to a shrink…ahhhh yes as if I don’t have enough emotional baggage and babble going on here…for secrecy sake we shall call her Doc P. Now the good Doc and I don’t see eye to eye on everything, however, I am “confronting my illnesses” (to this Angie makes an evil face and gives shifty eyes) now, for those of you who don’t know what this means, this entails me paying her for the most part to tell me how to live me life, and tell me to be less negative, LOL LOL LOL. To be less sarcastic, and to quit using humor “as a blocking defensive mechanism to deal with my inner fears and insecurities.” Ummmm…OOOOOKKKAAAAAYYYYY.
Now, Doc P has some really great points, like she just went on sale, she is half off now, heehee, my sessions are half as much as they were two weeks ago, and she does have some good advice, from time to time, how to calm myself during pain spikes, how to help myself get through days when I have to face losing my job, etc. I wonder how the hell Doc P would handle the next portion of my heavy hitter section….
That Damned Disability Company for privacy sake we will refer to them as Helpless Financial, we will give their reps name Ms X. well Ms X thinks I should be at work, My doctors, all 7 of them think otherwise, LOL, what to do, well I talk to Doc P, but he response is to be sure to pay my co pay before my visits, LMAO, imagine that. Well, I got a lawyer for my Social Security claim, but that still leaves me high and dry with my long term disability people and Ms. X, so I chase all over town and every week spend over $25 faxing her crap just so she can deny my claim again and again and again. Ahh the vicious cycle of medically induced poverty. As for Erika and I, we (meaning Erika) make too much money to qualify for financial aid from city, county, or state, by get this less than one would think, we can not even afford my medical stuff, much less our tiny apartment, and the state says to me when I apply for aid “you have one of the most comfortable living conditions of any disabled person we have seen” I scoffed out loud and hung up as the state rep was saying “have a happy holiday season”
Happy Holiday? Scoff again…and again…what else can you do.
This is what I would Like to do...
I will talk to you all soon...Take care and be well friends...May The Force Be With You. Angie
PS
Friends, Are we really in this much Economical Distress?
Guess Maybe we do need that Economic Stimulus Package Huh?
I am a simpleton. I live a simple life. I have a few people in my life whom I cherish above all else. I love Boxers, the dogs, not the people. I can take or leave most people, however, I will go out of my way to tip a waitress who is having a bad day and still manages to keep my water glass full. I also believe shivalry is not dead, it lies dormant in the hearts of the romantics, I am one of those. I love my future wife, Erika. The sun does not revolve around her, however my world does. I have three nephews, Max, Ben, and John Wayland, I also have two nieces Grace and Lillian and I love them dearly, Keith, Allyson. Dary, and Mitchell are wonderful people who I consider my family, a part of my world revolves around them too. I am a work-aholic,(or trying to get back to being one) though I am trying to remedy this by being home more for my bride to be, and my family and friends. You can teach an old dog new tricks, simply, hand comands, a treat, and a little praise. Like I said, a simpleton, a simple life, a simple person, a simple out look, simple views of the world, simple optimisms.
I am sure many of you have not had a chance to read yesterdays blog, that’s okay, I have a new rant and rave that is going to probably bore you just as much. Go Figure.
