Doing: Writing on this blog; answering e-mails; working out, and well...you know the rest! :0)
Watching: Nothing at the moment.
Listening to: Taped music from C-89.5 (Seattle)
Reading: Kushiel's Scion. Page 404.
STAR TREK-THE NEXT GENERATION: WAR DRUMS. Page 78.
MARVEL ZOMBIES TB
TOPIC: PERSONAL PAIN AND OTHER REFLECTIONS
To start off, I recieved a letter yesterday from the Providence Medical Center; saying that in order for me to get my 2 requested copies of my medical records for my upcoming hearing on the 30th, I would have to shell out an impossible $135!!!
I told my wife: "How the heck am I supposed to come with the money when I need to pay my bills next month--on top of everything else; including my compression stockings?!"
Gods and Faeries people! I was so angry yesterday! None of the other institutions charged me money for a simple release copies of my medical records.
So why this particular hospital? Are they suddenly strapped for money that bad that they have to harrass someone as dirt-poor as me--for funds that I can't even come up with--even on my best day? Is there a reason why I am made to suffer like this?
I can't imagine what the judge is going to say when he hears about what happened. After all--this is what he ordered me to do. But this is just getting so monotonous! I thought everything was going to be cleared up after Kiva got his surgery. I thought that I wasn't going to have to worry about anything else for a good long while. But this...is just driving me fucking batshit here!
Am I nuts, or does somebody have it out for me?! What the hell did I do to deserve this? Did I piss off the wrong rich slob in Congress? Did I piss off the religious wingnuts whom want nothing more than a complete authoritorian-ruled theocracy--to replace what's already here in the United States? Or is it just the fact that no matter how hard I try to make it in life--I can't get one fucking break?!
Just one!
Something that will be as uplifting and a solid morale booster that anyone can get out and deliver! Something that will tell me: "Sky, everything's going to be okay shortly. You'll just have to suffer for just a little while longer. But in the end...? It will be all worth it."
Is that so hard to ask? To want? To even desire? It's not like I'm asking for the world here. I just badly need some breathing space with my finances.
Working substandard jobs that pay well below the federal limit of poverty isn't doing my cause any special favors either. I've been doing that trip for the last 13 years and haven't come close to breaking even with what I really wanted to do with my life.
Some things I want in life I can't get, and even the smaller things are getting hellishly expensive.
College has become a such a joke because no matter what we do with our lives, very few of us actually get where we want to be today.
Many of us end up spending our lives working one dead-end job after another--and getting very little appreciation for the hard work we put in as a result.
From working moms and dads, to single guys and gals.
All I ever wanted was a good-paying job, a place to live, and finish what I started in college back in 1993; when I moved up to Washington state from Vermont on August 16th, 1995.
I never said: "I also want to rule the world, have a gazillion dollars and a Mercedes Benz EX-900 to show off my stature and importance to the rest of the planet."
Pfft!
If I wanted that, I could just write about it. I don't have to live it. My imagination and talented writing skills are enough--thankyouverymuch.
I thought I was good with discerning conspiracy theories before, but this has got to be the one of the most cruelest thing anyone can ask of somebody whom is 275% below the federal poverty level. I do what I can on what I have, but...come on! You know, this is just...ridiculous! I need my medical records so that I can have proof of my disabilities. Have proof of what's going on with my blood-clotting issues and my edema problems--which just recently surfaced after my last week's visit to the ER.
So that I can tell Social Security to go fuck themselves royally for treating me like I was some kind of common criminal these last 25 years--all because they don't think I'm either disabled enough in their eyes, or they think I'm some kind of suave "Thomas Crown" character whom can smooth-talk or steal his way out of a small $537-pittance of a monthly stipend from the US Government; which doesn't even begin to compete with what's happening with today's rising food and energy prices!
Or just simply fake my illnesses and disabilities like a hard-core hypochondriac.
Everyone I talked to--from my family down to the few close friends I have left to me--knows that cerebral palsy can't be cured through wishful thinking on Social Security's part. My Factor Five Leiden isn't a figment of my deluded imagination when I have to go to the hospital every few months or so to get treated for blood-clots in one leg (or both), or like this past week, I found out that I also have edema--which is causing a significant amount of pain in my legs; and both my feet and ankles show signs of swelling and more edema scarring.
I did get my 3 compression stockings on prescription--because there's no way that I can spend between $90 and $180 for three pairs by myself.
There's no way. (But the co-pays are going to kick me in the pants as is. At the minimum, I'm going to be shelling out $45 on the third--when I get my next monthly check--but there's nothing I can do. I have to do this so I can start walking around normally. Everything feels unhinged and wrong when I walk.)
That's why I am trying so hard to get my books out. I want off this poverty trip! It's been long enough. After 34 years, I want something else. Something I can take pride in and be happy with.
I can't get ahead in life working one dead-end job after another--and going back and forth on disability if I lose my jobs. But as I said: "College is a joke..."
I have enough of everything floating around upstairs that I don't need another "education"--which isn't going to advance me to where I want to be.
So these last seven years, I've spent my time really working on my books. Try to get them as polished and legible as possible for my reading audience. Share what I have done so far with the internet community--and build my fan base from there.
It's never easy--when you're living on severely restricted income, and your dreams and aspirations of self-publishing your own books under your own special imprint is years away at best.
But I try anyway because it's all I have left to me. All that's important in my life.
That's why I didn't ask for a lot of money when I petitioned the internet community nearly 3 months ago. I just needed enough to cover my basic bills. There were some other things that I threw in--because I was having one of my famous zen moments and thinking: "Wouldn't be so cool if..."--just so I can feel good and feel accomplished.
Because other people cared about me enough to do that for me.
Like the world isn't going to crash on top of me and I can feel free.
Sigh...
But those moments are such rarities in my life, I've begun to forget what that sensation, no...that emotion feels likes.
(Deep breath here)
This is why I sometimes think I'm made to suffer--because no one else will do it for me in my place. I have to do things on my own--because very few people believe it can be done. Very fewer still lack vision and imagination when it comes to reaching for that all-important dream.
I've been seeing strong evidence that people are forgetting to dream and just stop worrying about whether or not it will work.
Me? I'm just struggling and clawing my across this freshly paved road full of razor blades and broken glass of life.
But the only thing that keeps me going--is that someday, I'm going to be able to look back at this and smile. And say to myself: "Yes, this was all worth it. And I won't forget the struggles and the pain I had to endure getting there."
But I'm not there yet.
So until then, I'm going to continue to anguish, suffer, and struggle mightily. Because that's my beck and call for the time being.
Only because I believe in something greater than myself.
Hope. Faith. And a VISION.
It took 40 years for America to see an African-American candidate get elected President, then I will take the time to see things through and do it right to the best of my ability.
That's all we can ask of others.
That's all I can ask of myself.
Simply because I believe.
Sky
