Faking and Censoring

Being candid is not something I quite do on this blog, mostly because it has gotten me in trouble in the past. How? People I knew read it, told other people to read it, who told others, and then realized who I was writing about, but as I see it, this is my personal space to let go, and let out my feelings.

I rent a room with a family currently, for about a year now. What really crawls under my skin is that I have severe back issues in the form of five disc herniations. I began writing this after the internet had been down for about 14-15 hours, and the mother told me to wait for the father to come home... Why? Because I will hurt my back... Yet they gladly want me to ignore doctor's orders about lifting over 5 lbs to take like kitchen trash out. So when I don't take that out, they get upset at me. I would gladly remove it, if I could. Their five year old can literally lift more weight than I can, which makes me feel like an idiot.

So just to be clear, and because I actually have had physical therapy exercises where I kneel down, I asked my therapist about kneeling down to reset the damn router for the internet. She told me that it was not harmful what so ever. She pretty much told me, if it doesn't hurt, go for it.

The mother is just a huge %*#& for no good reason a lot of the time, and I am left completely clueless. She reminds me of my step-mother. Her youngest daughter tries to show me affection, it pisses her off. I go to cook food and eat it in the kitchen, it pisses her off. So next time I eat my food in my room, that pisses her off. I bathe, that pisses her off. My back hurts, that pisses her off.

So the middle daughter, like mother like daughter, she has moods where she has hated my guts and then tolerated me. I am unsure how much this is being monitored. For a while I knew that the severely creepy brother of the father, who was old enough to be my dad, was cyber-stalking me... He was also peeking in my window, too. But the middle daughter, she got into some trouble and had her door removed.

My father threatened me many times about removing my door when I live with him, but he never actually did it... so I was offended when, let's say, on Dannie's behalf, her step-dad actually went thru with it! But as her boyfriend would wait for her to and would or would not be in the house, he began to become a friend of sorts, which lead to  some disclosure. Many of her friends have lightly befriended me, and I have heard wild stories spun by Dannie about me, supposedly from my mouth. It really digs at me, especially because it is public and online, that there are outlandish stories being told by Dannie about me lying and faking things.

While doing poorly in high school, and goofing around since then, apparently Dannie got a degree in neurology, psychiatry, and psychology, at least, to be able to make the claims that she says about me. 

"Mandi fakes seizures, real seizures people foam at the mouth. I know cause I've seen it in movies and stuff." So Dannie has said. Well my main neurologist, and a second one I saw while hospitalized disagree. When I first described my seizures Dr. Abbi finished what I was describing, for me... I was stunned, she got me! She understood!! Apparently mine are uncommon, but still common enough. I have epileptic and non-epileptic seizures. They are super painful to go through so they are no fun at all... I also feel super embarrassed afterwards....... so I don't like having them. With my current medicine regimen I think I have solved it!

"Mandi tries to steal my boyfriends." Well... I have heard this one before. Dannie makes her men and friends wait up to 3 or more hours to finish getting ready to leave to where they are going... meanwhile as a member of the household, I feel obligated to politely speak to them until Dannie takes them, cause I usually have answered the door, and she doesn't say a word to them....... So because I am kind, friendly, and don't make people wait for hours to pick me up, I am more of a people person.

"Mandi tries to seduce my male friends." Um... all of directly above, and apparently when I first moved in there was an incident that I got out of the shower and didn't know there were people over and I was in a towel and opened the bathroom door to a buncha people.... which I was so humiliated from. I have large breasts, shirts often look sexy on me without me trying... I don't need to seduce.

But there is more... I'd heard this in the past and was hearing it again, but a lot more. Making me out as a villain makes her look like a victim which makes her more attractive because a guy would want to protect her. If it comes up, I don't really deny being survivor of sexual abuse and rape. I don't see myself as a victim, it happened, I have gotten past that, but my willingness in dating and life started rather late because I was victimized and abused... for real, unlike some people. But because Dannie says such wild things about me, when people meet me they are like surprised I am not a crazy person. 

Then one day Dannie's boyfriend talked to me because he was upset, so I humored him. We talked and I offered him resources I had received from a social worker, cause we are both kinda poor, lol. But later I found out, when he said, that he had to lie about talking to me and I immediately was like, "Yeah if you have to lie to Dannie about talking to me about getting resource help, I shouldn't be here, and you both need to work on your trust issues." Because he had said things to me that granted reasons for him to be untrustworthy. To be honest, he is a kind guy, but she is nice, too, and pretty, and sweet... And the way he treats her sometimes, I think she could do better. I get annoyed with Dannie, but it is almost like we're fighting siblings at this point in time.... except she is way kinder than my real sister.

So after I told off her bf that I wouldn't talk to him again, even about additional resources again, unless he got an OK from Dannie, he backed off. Ugh, she asked him why he'd been texting me as a set-up for him to fall into, and he did... she caught him. The idea that I would like him makes me cringe. He pretends to be nerdier than he is. Dannie and I know WAY more about comics than he does. He thought Rocket Raccoon was created JUST for Guardians of the Galaxy!! Seriously !!!! Also he is not intelligent enough... I made that mistake once before, and I realize I need a more intelligent guy. But to top it off, when I was offering resources he was totally not that interested in a roof over his head... he wanted me to do ALL the work, which pissed me the #*%& off.

So yesterday I had a rescheduled appointment with my back surgeon's office. It was supposed to be last week, but... ah well. Turns out... turns out... my blood pressure is very low, and a surprising amount of adults steal their crayons.

They used to have a body chart where you would draw a pattern to match how you felt where, now they use crayons, which people now break or steal, which I find highly amusing, but I have to admit, it is much easier than the old method because the pains overlap. By the time we finally got to the damned office... (we were parked across the street and I was pushed in my wheelchair over... I was in SO much pain omfg!!!!)

Without realizing it, I've been overdosing, ever-so-slightly, on my blood pressure medication... meaning that when I was not in pain, or in mild pain, I've been weak and light headed and I didn't know the reason... but now I do. Another thing that people think I fake. My weakness and diziness... but sometimes it is so bad I've fallen over, but I don't have a way to check my blood pressure at home, so I don't realize right away if it's been lower than normal, like it has been lately.

Sometimes in waiting rooms, especially at the E.R. my best friend has told me to, "tone it down" oh and in public... like cry not to loud, stop rubbing my leg so much, stop pulling my hair so hard, stop clawing my arms or face so hard........ but the pain is so bad tone is something I really don't give a shit about. I don't care if a nurse thinks I am faking if pulling my hair distracts me from thinking my leg could just necrotize and fall off any moment. ((Become dead tissue like what frostbite does, from the inside out and fall off.))

Why do I have to change MY behavior because there are bad fakers out there?! When it feels like there is a vice on your leg or spine and every moment it is getting a little tighter, and any second now, it is going to break bone, split tissue, everything will spill out open to the air.... I cry.... It is @*%&ing hard to make me cry from pain anymore. 

When they gave me a caudal epidural, up through the tail bone, I felt like I was dying for days. But now it has gotten so bad I feel that pain from other things now. I have fell off a swing as a kid, flown twenty feet and landed on my neck and head, I broke my collarbone, completely like -_ break yeah ouch, that was nothing, but my pain that is constant is like that collarbone pain... I can't believe I thought that was bad, lol.

So because of how I look, my medical history, and how I behave, it determines how I am treated. I look too put together, I am too young to have such back injuries, and I know too much about pharmacology and medicine. Basically my brains, looks, and injury #*$% me over. I also handle my pain well, and because my dose of blood pressure medication is high, is disguises my pain, too. Then, because so many kids, and adults, abuse pain meds today, I look suspicious just begging for a way to be able to go home and hobble from my bed to kitchen and back. Often a Toradol shot makes me happy! (it is an NSAID, so it is super similar to Advil/ibuprofen, naproxen, etc.)

Someone will come in and see my list of medication and say, "Wow, you're on some powerful medications..." or they will ask what I am taking and once I tell them, and also I explain I haven't taken anything yet today, or like I took a single one in the last 24 hours, they say, "Well that is some strong stuff, and you're still in pain?" Despite if I claim I took one like 2 hours ago, or if I said I didn't take one, they will assume I took like 5. Even if I tell them I took a pill 3 days ago and ran out due to being unable to see my doctor....

"That stuff if usually given to people with cancer," The doctor stares at me, trying to intimidate me. Every time.....
"I am aware... I have a nast allergy to morphine, should be in my chart, which is why I am on the lowest dose of hydromorphone. Oxycodone doesn't help me much, it just makes me high, which I don't like," I explain, EVERY TIME... And the doctor always looks at skeptically. One of these days I should just let them inject morphine into me and swell up and scream in agony till my throat swells and be like, 'See? Morphine SULFATE allergy... lol."

"How much do you take in a day?" the doctor or nurse will ask me.
"I can take like up to 2 at the most, maybe 2 and 1/2, but usually I take none. I go days without it." I explain. I know what the doctor is going to hear. They have selective hearing.
"Okay, so 2.5 a day." The doctor replies and I wanna punch them in their balls.
"That's not what I said," I hiss annoyed, but I have been labeled a junkie now, nothing I say matters.

The last time that I was hospitalized I kept crying because I was in so much pain... According to the staff they were "Giving the medicine you take at home" which meant they were offering oral norco, and no hydromorphone/Dilaudid... A lot of norco leads to getting high and no real pain relief if I'm hurting super bad. So they just kept overdosing past what I was supposed to take in a day. I would even not ask for it, and it would be in with other pills, and I wouldn't spot it and realize after the fact I had taken it.

Finally they shoved it in my face and kept telling me to take it, and so to prevent myself being strapped down, I just took the damned pills... So I learned I had to cry quietly or else. When I was discharged I was treated like a major junkie though. Yeah, the staff forced me to take way more narcotics than I wanted, and then calls me a junkie. I was content to just cry in pain and try a heat pack, but the nurses weren't. Dr. Herman, my back surgeon, had said something about fixing my pain the night before I left, so I wanted to ask into it before I left and one of the nurses was super pissed that I was staying behind. Finally she said to me, "Do you not have all you pills at home?" no... I have pills...
"Do you need pain pills then?!" NO, I don't need pain meds I----
"Okay what pain pills do you want?" O : I was speechless at this point. "No I just wanted to know if Dr. Herman had scheduled an appointment or left a note, that's all!!!" She was offering essentially a blank rx..... which is highly illegal.

When I was brought into the hospital it was because I couldn't care for myself. I was struggling to walk with a walker, let alone prepare food, incontinence, severe pain, and weakness and so much more. Much of that is degrading and humiliating, who would fake that for something so low as a norco high, when you can score that on the street easily? Mostly the incontinence... Depends are expensive, same with protective bedding pads and rash creams. I also have issues with public restrooms when it come to urinating ugh....

As for the seizures, it isn't just my roommate Dannie who thinks I fake, ignorant medical personnel sometimes don't know better. I legally am not supposed to be driving until I can prove I have them controlled. They are super painful and embarrassing as hell. Who would want to fake that, for those costs?!

But I haven't even had an aura (the sensation you have before a seizure, for some people) for a while, but the pain is wearing me down. I went to that appointment yesterday and it got me a recommendation, but pain management doctors were the ones who have made me feel worse in the past. The irony of their name is not lost on me.

So because I am stuck at home so much, doing exercises that leave me in pain, hurt, and hopefully stronger, I blog. I had to block this guy Carlos from my blog because he's become so obsessive over me, and he's intruded upon my life so much, I've tried to avoid blogging about him at all, for fear of him finding out and freaking out and stalking me/obsessing over me more.

I blocked Carlos's Google+ from my blogger, so that means that he must have gone and either signed out to view my profile, made a new account, or done something. He is extremely un-savvy with computers (he doesn't even have one). A few weeks back I went to EQLA which was a convention for My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic and it was supposed to be awesome, instead it was terrible, and I have had to keep it to myself until now.

Carlos.

Apparently Allen my bestie warned him about me and hotels and how it could be a huge PTSD trigger, and I didn't know that Carlos was warned. If anything it seemed like maybe someone gave him a pep-talk of yes, bother and ignore the girl's pleas to stop until the girl screams. It's like guys who think it's not rape unless the girl puts up a super feverish fight with like a lot of violence, but if you know you are going to lose, it's less painful to just submit and get it over with.

So after he kept wanting hugs, touching my shoulders and arms and hands constantly in an intimate way, like a lover would do, I began freaking out, before we even left for the Con we were going to. I don't mind a guy touching me in a flirty way, but touching me in a way that is perverted and lusty bothers me severely, because it implies sex super heavily. Carlos is an extremely sexually minded person, too, to the point I asked him not to follow me on Twitter because I don't want people to see someone like him following me on Twitter... he follows too much adult entertainment. That is alright and his life, but when he lustily stares at me, and touches me, it is super inappropriate, especially in public and in places where I cannot get away because I am restrained, like a car with a seat belt. It makes me feel dirty and causes a lot of bad PTSD memories to surface.

I will admit I offered to go on a couple dates with him, but that was a very long time ago. I tried to politely explain to him why I didn't want him as my boyfriend, but ever since then, it is as if he has tried to win, purchase, forced, and seduce my affection. A friend of mine cleverly said "girls don't like it when you try really hard," which I object to. A guy trying hard is not an issue, but someone who is not sincere in feelings and remains so, they've lost. I've already dated too many selfish guys who don't have respect for me, my body, my space, and my feelings.

If Carlos reads this I know it will probably crush him, but the messed up thing is, I blocked him from reading this blog, so he had to gone out of his way to read it... At the hotel at the convention he constantly followed me. Every time I leave my house, he actually seems to find out, and it is bordering on stalking behavior, especially because he wants to come along! I was hoping I could remain friends with him, but a disturbing text he sent me a couple days ago shows me that he has grandiose feeling and memories that at one point we were in love, when I've never been in love with him... I've only felt bad for him, as a human.

Allen and I have tried to explain what respect means to Carlos many times, but he never understood... so he cannot understand why I will sever our friendship because he is borderline stalking me. He has become less respectful. He always blames other people or things instead of taking responsibility. 

I really wanted to remain friends, so as I write this I am crying, cause I feel like a terrible person... but I've already had two boyfriends who had to know where I was every minute of the day... we're just friends and he is doing that- so... I can't keep talking to him it seems.

 

Then I hear a knock on my door and I am given notice to vacate. Going to be homeless again. Of course Carlos and my father will want to "help" in their severely messed up way that offers no aid, and is a huge joke and makes me just angry. Why do people offer "help" that is of no actual help?

Medicine and War

Anxiety...

I feel like I am being crushed from the inside out, somehow. I know it makes no sense, but that is how it feels. My breath is catching in my throat and chest, every single one... My body feels heavy. Seconds drag into what feels like minutes, and my heart is desperately racing...

I've been in the hospital recently, so I have home health care services that have been coming to my home, which has been a huge stress factor to me. Physical therapy and a nurse checking on me, giving me things to do, until I am fit to actively leave my house to seek services. One golden thing that I had been desperately clinging to was that while I had been in the hospital, the doctor who had previously done surgery on my back, and is the head of nuerosurgery approached me while I was there and we had a conversation.

"We'll get this figured out," he told me with a kind smile. It seemed genuine.

"What do you mean... like surgery or treatment?" I asked for clarification. In the past he had been against surgery until I had absolutely needed it.

"Probably with medication or some other therapy right now. I'm consulting with a medicine specialist right now, I'll see you again tomorrow." He explained to me, but the next day I was discharged. When I asked if the doctor had made any appointments for me, or notes, or anything, the nurse was very annoyed and began to tell me that while I had been in the hospital that they gave me "the same pain medications that you receive while you're at home". She thought I was some junkie or something looking for a fix I suppose... But I wanted to find out more about the meeting that never happened.

Eventually it got to the point where she was offering me "what medicine do you want, so you will leave?" Not only was I personally offended, I was shocked at her lack of professional conduct... So I wrote it off that I wouldn't get any help and left... after politely explaining for the 20th time that I had spoken to the doctor and had just wanted to know about the mysterious course of treatment he had mentioned the night before, but like whatever.

A couple days later I got a call from his office, scheduling an appointment though... very soon. Within a couple weeks, when it often can take months to be seen there! So I was surprised, but happy. They didn't see what it was about though, but when they called to cancel it yesterday they saw it was only to check in because I was in the hospital under his care.......................... a completely pointless appointment. Completely pointless meetings with people who just agitate my back pain and make me feel worse emotionally.

I feel like I want to just find a really nice blade and slice my throat and bleed out somewhere, but I know I don't have a sharp enough blade that could cut deeply enough before I would wimp out.... I saw a psychiatrist, and she was an idiot, too. I knew more about medicine than she did. What is becoming of our medical personnel?

She broke down and began arguing with me and calling me names, like.... someone in middle school would do... it was... sad. I have only seen a couple other grown women do that, my step mother, and ghetto women. I would never have guessed I would ever see a PSYCHIATRIST do that... Because she doesn't know prescribing laws... I mean, just because she is ignorant, doesn't mean that it's my fault lol.

Finally to top everything off, last night on the news Russia is stirring things up in Syria... and NOW the redneck Mexican family I live with cares... NOW the news cares... oh but then a few minutes ago there was another shooting in a college, and that is more important news than impending world war. I mean, yes students dying is terrible... but.... world news affects so many more people.

Finding A Voice

I remember when I was very small that on the local news, it would actually show... well news.

Last night I endured about an hour of frivolous stories, and a few stories that were somewhat emotional, before hearing about things that are affecting thousands right now, and soon may affect millions. I am sorry that six hikers died because of a flash flood, and a toddler was killed, but I would much rather here more pressing matters about thousands of refugees fleeing Syria who are being starved and abused because Germany followed through with their threat to carry the quota of refugees allowed to their borders, and no one will take these poor people. What is more scary is that it seems no one is concerned that Russia has military presence in Syria, a country we are fighting a war in currently, and not long ago Russia was doing reconnaissance missions along the West Coast... But hearing about how cats and dogs need homes, and the best places to dine for the Emmy's is much more important to hear about.

Making matters worse is that I live with a house of very ignorant and racist people. It is ironic how much they are willing to bash on Obama but happily take benefits that he brought in with many of  his policies that he introduced. Not to step on toes, but they are typical "LA Republicans" except they are Mexican instead of hailing from mixed European descent. I'm impressed how quickly LA Republicanism is catching fire.

L.A. republicans like to pretend that they are smart, but they are usually quite uneducated. They will ask questions in answer to questions, instead of supplying a good answer. They will argue using the same "fact" reworded again and again. They also see the Bible as law, and usually as literal history, EXCEPT when it interferes with what they want or like... like shellfish, polyester blended clothing, eating pork...

So I saw an actually good, but very racist, caricature of Obama as a black-monkey person in the living room, and I was of course like, wow... yeah.. This family hates black people. They pretty much equate all black men to being criminals. I bet I could bring Neil DeGrasse Tyson into this house and they'd be ready to grab the wood baseball bat that is in the living room.

On the news was the whole debacle over Planned Parenthood and the supposed selling of fetal tissue to people or companies and the majority red-neck House decided to either defund PP or "stop government," according to the news. So it left Obama 14 days to decide. I immediately exclaimed that it was horrible...

Thinking about 3 million reported patients that they have a year, and the king of the hill of further south redneck's immediately replied, "I know, murdering all those babies..."

So again without thinking I replied, "No, those poor women. They barely do abortions compared to the STD and prenatal care they offer! I've taken so many girlfriends there for help. I don't condone abortions, so I'd never help with that, but I was surprised when I learned they do way more." And I should know. I worked in a pharmacy for years. Do you have any idea how many prescriptions for things like condoms or birth control come from clinics associated with PP?

I could tell I steamed him up, so I decided to look it up and found, "Only 3% of their services are abortions... if it's a problem stop the abortions, but continue prenatal care...." I again pleaded my case for all those places to stay open.

Later in the night I actually looked into the issue further, and the fetal tissue was possibly being given to a company illegally, without their knowledge, so they could treat people with cancer and other serious health issues... But the kicker to me was when I looked up the exact laws about abortion and federal funding........there is NONE.

Abortions cannot be funded by the government.

So closing every planned parenthood that exists would do nothing about the abortion problem, because girls aren't getting government aid to get them there! Women are getting government aid to have healthy babies at Planned Parenthood, or men and women are preventing STDs. All of the ignorant idiots in government and around the USA haven't even bothered to Google basic laws of how abortion works, and therefore are probably going to cause more baby deaths than ever because 3 million patients will lose clinic care for natal and sexual care. Good job America!

I recently did a stint in the hospital, too... which... god.. I can't even get into that now..


I was very jostled around, and eventually it all left me with a discharge and somehow over medicated and yet my pain not managed. I've been trying to speak up the whole time I was there, but I cannot help but wonder, is there anyone to hear me?

Being Lonely

So lately, I’ve been struggling with severe isolation. I’m well aware that many claim to

have this, too, because so many of my friends say that they have this precise problem,

even worse than me. They do not have time to socialize outside of work, or perhaps that even work at home, and these people only go out shopping for food and other errands and

such. Hearing the complaints and trying to be sympathetic is just digging the dagger

deeper and deeper into my heart.

I only leave my room to use the restroom or to get food. That is, my bedroom; ROOM,

not house… I rent a room from a family whom, at the moment, is having some severe

emotional issues when it comes to my disability, they are extremely uncomfortable with

my presence, so I have to keep myself isolated to my bedroom. I literally have had only

two real social interactions in the last few weeks, and besides that, I have only dealt with

medical visits where the doctors were extremely wary, because of my fragile physical

state. I am dreading the impending chance that I may need a second spinal surgery.

My back is doing so bad, and my seizure episodes have returned, that my physical

therapy has been decreased again, which means that I have lost the once weekly

excursions from my house. I also have not had use of my laptop for over a month… So I

do not even have online social interaction, except from my phone, which is extremely

spotty due to the poor WiFi supported from the router that this house has. Thanks

 Verizon.

Even prisoners in federal jail are allowed at least an hour’s recreation every day with

other prisoners every day, but I don’t even have this luxury… (Maybe I should get

arrested?) I received annoyed text messages from a friend complaining that they were

alone in their house. At least they are able-bodied enough to leave their house. They

could afford to walk, take a bus somewhere! I cannot physically walk out of my house

and go anywhere. Yesterday even if I wanted to I couldn’t walk to the kitchen for food,

because I was in so much agony and pain.

To be so hungry and unable to even make yourself even a microwave meal, only eating

plain raw oats… day after day, and knowing that you will not even speak to another

human being for another solid six days… Often my voice will go unused unless I talk to

myself or sing.

What makes matter’s worse off, is that I’ve tried to reach out socially. I tried to join a

“Brony” group, fans of “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”. Which, as the title

suggests, should emphasis friendship and tolerance and acceptance, but so far my

dealings have been terrible with the local people. Back in downtown Los Angeles the

people were all kind and awesome, but here many come off as quite stuck up and jaded

and I’m not sure why.

One of the famous people in the Brony community had commented that as the

community had grown he’d noticed that more and more people had joined who were

jerks and… other unaccepting people. Maybe I should have listened to him, but he is

someone who did not seem like he really wanted to seek to change his situation and find

happiness. He is someone who would complain to me about being alone, lonely, and sad

all the time, but he was able-bodied and could leave his house, seek to change his

situation, unlike me, but he chose not to.

But, this is one side of the coin.

There is a huge thing that has been irking me for years now. It has become popular for

people to edge into “unpopular” things… Nerdy things, geeky things, and etc. Lots of

people jumped onto the bandwagon of anime and manga for example. Now even

emoticons and terribly mislabeled emoji everywhere I turn and I want to punch someone

 in the stomach every time I hear someone who is not Japanese say, “emoji”, unless it is,

an emoji… orz   there we go, THAT is an emoji. That is how I feel when an American emoticon is used and someone calls it an emoji, orz  . Someone told me that Apple is

 actually to blame for this, though, because they had an app that misused the term emoji.

Apple ruins everything… I mean like literally everything.

Someone in one of these groups that irked me badly asked me, yes asked me, about

fighting games, and then once I named off games, then they claimed that the games were

anime and not games… Which a simple Google search and Wikipedia page will show there are games and no anime of the majority of the games listed… The person actually told me to look it up... so I politely explained that, uh no, they are games you play, not watch.

(They went so far as to make very inventive names for Smash Brothers and Mortal

Kombat, and challenged me to “list them”, like list every airdasher genre game, and they saw that they had lost when I easily began naming off game after game of the genre easily.)

 They were so stubborn about wanting to appear to know things about nerdy subjects that

are currently popular that they insisted to be correct, despite their wanting information in the first place. Then because they realized that they were grossly ignorant they began to

accuse me of being an abhorrently fake clinger on, like they obviously were, called me a “weeaboo”, because I actually was knowledgeable about Japanese culture, along with anime, manga, but video games, the gaming scene, and comics. I am annoyed by these fake people who are just scene fakes, but I do not see it as a contest or challenge.

 This person accused me of trying to brag by mentioning that I had hurt myself in physical therapy, a place where I am trying to recover enough to walk again… Yes, I am a big tough person who hurt myself so badly, I had to use my wheelchair to move around in the

area, when usually I’m able to walk around more when I’m there… It was like this f3person wished to tear what ever shreds of dignity that I, as a poor, disabled, lonely, girl who can’t even take care of herself, has left.

I am a person who tries desperately to actually hide my intelligence and experiences because of the severe abuses I have suffered from people like my father and this person. People who wield their ignorance and jealously around as weapons against others instead of trying to be accepting. (An example, if you argue with a ghetto person they will get in your face and yell repeatedly the same thing over and over, as if they are proving a point, it makes no sense.) I’m not the best at expressing myself, so occasionally when I let a blatant fact slip, like say, I have beaten someone who was once the second best player at Meltyblood in the nation before, I do not mean it as a bragging point… I mean it as, wow is it not cool and sound fun? We should hang out some time and perhaps play some games!

The person who targeted me most recently chose a name that had a title of “Tollerance” in it, yes, misspelled, ironically because they were very intolerant, and it showed their ignorance at the gross misspelling. “Theres a thing called a humble brag, where you brag while trying to make yourself look like its an accident Comments like ‘I over worked myself on the excersize machine and now im banned’ for a good example” was what this person said to me that crawled under my skin.

It was a humble brag to try to let out my deep sadness that my single weekly sessions of going outside of my bedroom was being taken away because I hurt my back? I didn’t over-exercise, my back was hurt because I slipped and fell and I was not cautious enough that physical therapy. I can’t walk very far, and it was far, far, from a brag, it was some of the worst disaster that has occurred to me recently, because it was the first physio I have received for five weeks, because my therapist was on vacation… now I have to wait three weeks! Another three weeks of isolation in my room because my body is in so much pain and is so weak… how is that bragging?

I replied by apologizing over and over to this person, but they did not care at all. It seems like in my life I always seem to be able to take the anger from everyone, whether I am the just cause of it, or not. Often these people have been angry from other reasons, like this person later explained, but I am the person who doesn’t stand up for themselves and allows the terrible treatment to be carried out. Whether it was getting beaten by my ex, trapped in a tiny room, hit by my father, or terribly controlled by the people I live with in cruel and unusual ways, I don’t know how to find the strength to stop it… Because in each case, where would I live?

Lerner Rowe and FML

6.19

Today was a BIG day for me; a lawyer's office was going to call me and help me re-apply for SSDI or SSI. AGAIN. This office was different. It was motivated to really help me! Unfortunately about thirty minutes ago they called, and about fifteen minutes ago I ended the call intears, because it was completely pointless.

A friend asked me what the name 'Neptune Fallen' was from, or if it meant something, once. It is not from anything in particular, but it does mean something to me. Neptune is also known as Pluto, and was seen as the god of the underworld, or even heaven in ancient times. Also sometimes Neptune was viewed as the god of the waters, seas, and rivers. Neptune fallen is literally a depiction of a fallen god, of the heavens and or the seas. Especially today.

-Cops arrive and interrupt me writing.-

Then forty five minutes after they called the cops leave... Lovely. Where was I? Um, yes, the person at the lawyer's office who is helping me is a fucking idiot... I was beginning to feel better, but now I want to throw something hard against concrete and watch it break...

"Your claim is still active, he wants you to know that," the cop told me. No, not the claim from before, but the claim that I haven't even begun... The claim that is upsetting me. The claim that I haven't even gotten a chance to explain in my blog why it is upsetting me, because cops literally burst into my home and interrupted me! Ugh! I suppose he is a kind guy, and means very well, but his intelligence is something that is really lacking from the little I've dealt with him. Reminding me of the woman from Fry's and the cop Jams dealt with.

So I hear a firm knock at the door, and I assume that it is probably someone of the family I rent from, asking something from me, or notifying me of something... and I open the door to, a buncha cops. The cherry on top is that Maria Sr. the crazy Spanish speaking-only grandma is here, along with the army uncle who is nearly stalkerish in how much he follows people online, including me. Hope he likes this post, he isn't bad looking tbh, and is actually pretty cool and fun to hang out with.

I nearly run outside to the front yard, out of earshot of everyone inside, so we can talk there. Even if I had a giant room that could fit dozens inside, with how thin our walls are, I would choose the same spot. Immediately, but delicately, I am asked how am I doing, and I totally bomb it.

"I'm not doing too well," I blurted out, sitting on the grass, picking at some shoots. "I uh, well my back is hurting, I tweaked it trying to rush out here... But I am feeling better emotionally than I was. I had called a crisis line."

"Alright," the cop replied, I assume happy I admitted that I'd called a suicide help line. I wasn't going to try to pretend that I was totally happy for the last few hours. "Did you tell anyone in the last few hours that you would hurt yourself?"

"Uhhh... yeah on the crisis line, I had pills in my hand, and I was wanting to take them," I answered frankly, glancing nervously up a couple times. "After several minutes I was feeling better and didn't feel like that anymore."

The cop looked almost as if a fish had crawled out of a fish bowl and run away or something. I guess he wasn't used to people just admitting things so plainly. So he asked me more questions like about me hurting myself in the past.

"I used to, a long time ago. You can see scars on my arms, but it's been well over a year since I've actually done it. I might have urges, but I've not actually hurt myself in a long time." I explained.

"Yeah... I can see some of the scars," he glanced at my arms and gestured with a finger at the pale slices intermixed with the slightly darker skin. "When was the last time you did that?"

I scoffed slightly nearly a laugh, "Pff.... I don't even remember it's been so long," I shook my head. "Before I moved here, and I've been here a year."

"Okay," he nodded. I'd been very frank, he seemed to believe me so far, or at least seem to think I was being mostly truthful. My scars obviously are not from days ago, but do look like they could be weeks old I will admit. "Have you ever been to a mental health facility?"

"Like a clinic... or?"

"Like admitted. Have you been to Hillmont?" he asks this. I shudder and the cops notice my reaction. I laugh loudly.

"Yeah, I've been to Hillmont," I answer with a grin, "One of the last times I was there I needed to get my gallbladder out, they were giving me liquid antacid, as soon as I was released I had to rush to Santa Paula for emergency surgery. Hellmont just let it fester inside me. No offense to them, but that wasn't the first time they've injured my physical health. They make me worse than I feel, hehehe." I chuckle and shake my head.

"What about ....?" They mention a place I'd never been.

"Nope, I've never been there... and I was feeling depressed earlier, and I have been feeling down off and on recently. My psychiatrist lowered my dose of one of my meds, I wouldn't be against being admitted to a facility if it weren't Hillmont." I replied.

Again the cops stared at me as if I'd grown a third eyeball or something. I was just being so mellow.

"Heh I bet I could also get a shower, too!" I added with a grin.

"You can't get one here?" the younger male who's been silent asks.

"Uh.... nope," I answer, my voice still friendly, with a smile.

"Why not?" the main officer asks me, his eyes wide.

"I waste water apparently. I'm not supposed to take showers, cause I fall, and I can't take baths cause of our drains, and then I also waste water, but everyone else can bathe...." I explain with a sardonic smile. The officer finally is beginning to get a read on me, that perhaps though I seem mellow that there is more behind it.

"You need to find another place to live." he tells me. "But before that, can I see your cell phone?"

"Sure, no problem... and I've been looking for one."

I go and get my cell phone, while one of the cops watch me, and they are shocked by my messy room. The biggest contention of me living where I do. Before the cops left one of them jokingly laughed to me, "Yeah, and you should probably clean your room," with a kind smile. My landlords claim fire department people and police will fine or issue other things if they see it, but so far cops, paramedics, police chiefs, and more have seen my room in worse states than it currently is messy and are totally chill with it and only have parentaly suggested I should clean it up, with a smile and often a chuckle.

Anyways

The main cop has my cell phone and asks me, "Did you tell anyone that you might kill yourself today?"

"When I was online with the crisis hotline, yeah, I was talking about it. I did send a text insinuating it to my best friend, but other than that no..." I answered and then kind of fell onto my side.

The young man cop immediately reached his hands out towards me in worry, "Are you okay? Do you need a chair?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, well not fine... I hurt, but lying on my left side like this is best. Thank you, though." I reply with a smile. The main cop is looking through my phone and the other cops who are closer to my age are looking at me weird, as if how could I just hand my phone over to a cop? I didn't fight, try to erase things, try to explain things?! Nope, just gave him my phone. He can lol over funny texts between me and Jams.

Finally he asks me, "What did you say to... the crisis team... and to Dustin from the lawyer's?" I realize that he's gone through my texts and call history, and likely might have checked my skype and facebook and internet, too, in just that three minutes. I don't use them much.

"Dustin I admitted that the SSI application was pointless, everything in my life was pointless, I wanted to just give it up, terminate anything that had begun, there was no reason to keep it going. If I begin to receive assistance I will receive a gross amount less for rent and food than I currently get... and I began to cry uncontrollably and I was trying to get off the phone and just end the process of applying again... with the Crisis, I admitted I had a buncha pills I wanted to take, and got talked out of it, by realizing there are programs to help people who have nothing...." Finally the cop said he was going to make a few calls on it, and he walks away.

The younger girl cop asks me something I could tell she was dying to ask, "Do you always dye your hair like that?"

I chuckle, "Um, kind of... It was purple since October, but then I was trying to dye the purple out, and I got this pink." We all laugh at this explanation and then the younger man mentions the bright pink is reminiscent of the 80's, and I recall that I like it a lot because it is similar to Cadance from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

"Can I ask how you hurt your back?" the girl cop asks, her voice polite, but nervous.

"Yeah," I reply. "Back in December 2010 I was in a car accident and got 3 herniations, but then in 2012, this doctor Ashokan herniated on disc from 5mm to a centimeter. That made it so I couldn't walk at all for a long time."

"Oh wow..." she said, her eyes sympathetic.

"Yeah, I deal," I tried to smile encouragingly. This is my life, I can't live for myself. I have to pretend to be okay for other people. Finally the cop with my phone returns with my phone and tells me...

"Yeah Dustin from the lawyer's office wants you to know that your claim is far from being denied, it's still waiting to be approved even," at first my heart jumped before I realized.

"Wait.. you mean the claim, from today?" I ask, confirming the idiocy of trying to comfort me with the cold hard fact that pushed me into the warm comforting arms of the idea of unlife.

"Yes, the one from today," the cop replied. "It might not be a lot of money, but you should look at it like a happy accident."

I have to facepalm, but I don't. "The thing that upset me was that as soon as I get SSI, I won't get food stamps, because it is a California law... and the person helping me with rent will stop that aid, so together my total amount for food and rent will be a fraction of what it is now.... But I have program info to help now so I'll be okay somehow." I lie through my teeth at the end... yet the cold realization dawns on the cop. The person at that office duped him. The girl in the grass who is afraid of her landlords, SSI is going to possibly make it so she can't get food to eat, it might mean death from another mean that isn't suicide, which is why suicide is so tantalizing.

"Well, you seem to be pretty stable. Um, if we took you anywhere it'd be Hillmont, but..." the cop trailed off.

"That'd be worse, thanks for understanding," I finish for him.

"So you won't hurt yourself?" he clarifies.

"No, not on purpose." I answer, "I do hurt my back all the time just trying to walk around though, but it's all accidentally." to which I get the sad smile I was trying to get, while I chuckle, adjusting my pose to ease my back pain.

"Well if you need anything call us."

"Will do, thank you~!" and with that the cops leave.

--
6.20

Oh before they left, they did ask me what I was doing when they arrived, and I explained that I was literally in the middle of blogging, and they asked what about, and what I generally blog about. I told them that I blog about being disabled, and I was writing out my feelings about the idiot at the office I had dealt with.

What I failed to get into real details thus far was what Dustin from the office said to me that crawled under my skin.

The whole reason I had agreed to make a phone appointment with this office to discuss SSI or SSDI again, was because, it was mentioned that I might actually be able to get an amount that would be survivable on. When Dustin spoke with me, though, this became very apparent, not to be so. Dustin was very spoken that I was too old to have any sort of disability insurance.

“You are too old to have any disability insurance,” Dustin told me, as if I was some sort of idiot. His tone of voice was annoyed, like everyone should already know the information he divulged. “You never worked long enough to pay into it. You chose to stop working too early.”

“I’m sorry, I chose?” I repeated to him, a bit stunned. Was he referring the date of the last day of work?! The day that my best friend had to help carry me out of the store because I couldn’t walk unaided?!!

“You also didn’t choose to work full time.” He continued. “Because of your age, you have to have worked full time for five years… and you chose not to.” Dustin said this like a basic statement of facts. Twisting my horrible accident and torturous turn of my life and suffering into some sort of sweet fun flirtatious early life experimentation! Every time I heard him say “choose” or “chose” I felt like a knife was digging deeper into that injury already in the base of my spine.

“I never chose to not work full time,” I corrected him, my tone as polite as I could manage. “I had to work part time due to my physical limitations, as noted by doctors.” I explained clearly.

“Well, because you chose not to work for so long, and not to pay,” he continued to repeat as if he hadn’t heard me, nor read my case file that I have 5 herniated discs!! My spine doesn’t work!!!! What the fuck is wrong with this man?! “You’ll only be qualified for like SSI.”

Which would mean, basically no money, and under 300 a month. Food stamps would be cut off. The person aiding my rent would stop, also. And I would lose my housing, and my food in one swift active swing. I declared I wanted nothing of it, I wanted to give it all up, and he began to call me greedy that of course I was not entitled to a lot of money like ads on tv suggested… and that was never what I wanted. I want money to survive by. Pay rent, purchase food, medication.

This asshole is telling me that I have chosen to voluntarily, able-bodily-not-worked for most of my adult life, decided all of a sudden I am now disabled and want a lot of money and am now complaining that I can’t get a lot, and supposedly I guess all those injuries and issues pre 2014 do not exist, but he can begin to get me 200 dollars a month starting 2015, and that WILL be enough to live by, even in southern California. BECAUSE DUSTIN says so… Even if there are no places that cheap, nor places where I can find enough food for free even if I can find safe housing.

Thank you Dustin, even if I go to the social security office myself, you’ve made me look like an idiot.