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Tag: Non-fiction

Too disabled to be hired, too intelligent to ask for help.

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It’s no secret that I have Cerebral Palsy. It’s also no secret that I’m well-spoken, and can function well, as far as in terms of cognitive processes. Basically, I’m self-sufficient and I can think pretty darn straight and logically.

It is rough living in the in-between of anything, especially in terms of abilities. I just got off the phone with a resource provider in town that basically told me, in so many words, I speak well so therefore I dont seem to need assistance and that I should make sacrifices in order to be independent.

After every sentence I spoke, after she collected my info, she kept saying I could “tap into resources”, (as if, as a disabled person with an extremely small support system, I haven’t exhausted all of them already), or that we could “do a Google search” online for odd jobs or other ways to bring in income.

I had already told her we had to trade in our car, we had to move, sell everything we owned, I put down cash for a deposit as well as first months rent on my own FROM SELLING EVERYTHING I OWN, and you mean to tell me, even though you haven’t seen me or my wheelchair (that I have to make payments on), that I need to sacrifice more? Yeah, no.

There’s nothing left to sacrifice, and I’m proud of that. I’ve done more than people on two legs would dream of doing, including risking everything to pave a path for myself.

In the South, there was no assistance for me. I lived without it for years. I’m not going to pretend I’m not disabled so that I can keep up with the Jones’s. I’ve been there and done that.

The simple truth is, we are all subject to aging, ailments, disability, and death. We will all have to experience being in need of care, and we should face that with humility. Otherwise, we’re in for a rude awakening and a huge blow to our pride.

I wouldn’t have sat on the phone with this person for over two hours if I had other options to consider at the moment, and she should know that. Where are the people that mind their own business?

It wasn’t like she would give me the space to say that yes, I was rejected from over 200 job positions BECAUSE IM DISABLED AND THEREFORE HAVE GAPS IN WORK EXPERIENCE. She wouldn’t let me speak but offered ‘advice’.

Please, if you can make someone hire me for a steady job, let me hear about it; because I can for sure say I dont want to be on the phone with someone who talks down to someone just for calling them.

Power imbalance much?

Go work in robotics or some shit, or better yet, go be a social worker and help someone less fortunate than you with all that knowledge you seek to possess, lady. Please let me live.

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Step 1: We Admitted That Our Lives Had Become Unmanagable

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I did it. Tonight, I joined a Codependents Anonymous Support Group, otherwise known as Coda. I am codependent to a larger degree than I had thought. I also don’t know where all of this shame is coming from, but I’m happy that I’ve taken the initiative.

I’ve known that I was codependent on an intellectual level; tonight I dug a little deeper. This happened by accident. Someone who is struggling was referred to me yesterday evening. My friends know me as someone who is kind, compassionate and a person enjoys lifting people up. I really do love being a helper.

The issue, here, is that I often suffer from burnout. I will toil, and toil, and will not rest. And boundaries? Pfft! Hardest thing ever!

Not to worry though, I’ve taken baby steps. I can acknowledge when things are getting a bit hazy, and when I need to step back. As an example, I formed a bond with my friend and we clicked instantly. Consciously, I put in the effort to ask her if she’s had enough time to “recharge her batteries”. If she has, then we talk. If not, We miss each other healthily until our next conversation.

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Growing up without a mom for most of my life was really shitty. It still is. My mom deserves to rest in peace. Therefore, I won’t go into too much detail about the why and how of her passing. I only know that losing her was brutal. I was a self-absorbed little shit, as all children are, (and I try to constantly remind myself of this so that I don’t punish myself for her death). I digress.

I didn’t have the chance to appreciate my mom.

I was busy trying to sort out these weird feelings in my head, like “Why are these teachers so mean to me?” and “Why can’t I go to my grandma’s house? Nobody screams, fights, or flips their lid every two seconds there.”

And: “Why are you screaming at me because I can’t count quarters correctly?”

Look, I love my mom. I know moms are stressed, tired, and way undervalued; I’m just stating my truth.

My mom could not cope. My mother loved me and I loved her, but it is simply time to let this shit go; I will never be able to move forward if I do not. My mother could not cope and I got the brunt of all the irritation, jealousy, and insecurity.

I catch myself behaving in these negative ways. It’s time for them to stop.
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So, yeah: step 1: My life is a mess at this point, though I do have to say I’ve still made awesome progress. Now, it’s time to change my stinkin’ thinkin’ and realize that even though things are a mess, I’m still worthy.

Nosedive

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I’m excited about what lies ahead. In a few weeks I’ll be starting over.

I’ve become comfortable with uncertainty; it’s even a bit thrilling. I’ve always known that nothing is certain, but this time I feel it on a soul level.

My motivation, and my stubbornness have carried me this far. Not only that, but my faith and absolute determination to not take no for an answer.

I’ve had to sell nearly every item in my house, publish a patreon, fight tooth and nail to not let greed get me down, forget that pride exists, and loosen my grip.

Nose diving into my life with reckless abandon isn’t so scary once you’re off the ledge.

I’m in awe at how I’ve surpassed myself and my expectations of myself as well.

But, a one-man-show is never a one-man-show. I could do nothing without the help of God and the people who have been there to catch me as I was free falling.

An invisible army is still an army.

To you, Sweet Baby

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I cant seem to smoothly connect with you in person, to no fault of your own. My baby, I know that you’re trying. It pains me a bit to know that I love you on paper, more than I do right beside you.

Still, when I am gone, I will leave my writing to you, since all of this was inspired by you, and written for you, by me in the first place.

I love you. I admire you. These words will never suffice, because my anxiety, and codependent thoughts get in the way.

I really appreciate you.

Seven years. We’ve been through your gender transition, the loss of our only biological child, our family stepped out quietly. And I’m not the greatest at coping with Cerebral Palsy.

You still bathe me. You still clothe me.

You still hold me. You hold me when rent is past due; when the debts are high and the accounts are low, you still hold me. You believe I am worthy to be embraced.

You play Stardew Valley with me. You make time for me.

You believe I taught you what love was, simply because I stay; when it is you teaching me how to love – calmly, steadfastly, and quietly.

Thank you.

I love you always.

-Your Wife

I’m Here For You

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Instead of telling you to keep going, instead of telling you that things will improve, I will sit with you. I will shoulder that burden with you. I will sleep on that floor with you. I will eat in the dark with you. I will lurk on the streets with you. I’ll break through windows so that you can feed your hungry children, with you. I will be there as you cry yourself to sleep for the fourth time this week. I’ll be there when life’s laughing at you, yet again. I’ll be there. Thank you for letting me be there for you. I love you.

Welcome Home.

You’re safe here.

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