What Did You Say to Me? (Trigger Warning)



“I wish I had time for DIY stuff. If only I had the time to do what I WANT like you do. It must be nice.”



Really…?

Yep, this came at me again! Sheer stupidity or fundamental lack of understanding? I honestly do not know. I’m trying not to let it piss me off. I’m losing! Here comes a rant…


TRIGGER WARNING; RANT. STOP HERE.


So, yes, person(s). I have time to make shit and write shit. You don’t? Then maybe you need to excel at your job and not worry about what I get to do. That’s right. You do you, I’ll do me.

I was terminated (fired!) from my job for medical reasons. I did not decide to ‘just quit.’ I have a damn college degree! I had a career! I was a passenger in a stupid car accident that created this fibromyalgia, chronic pain, PTSD world I now live in. I didn’t seek it out, I didn’t ask for it. I can’t just think it away, or I would have…

I get disability ‘income.’ You think your taxes pay for my disability income? I paid into this system, too! Since I was fifteen years old, I have paid into the Social Security system. In fact, I’m still drawing FROM the real income I personally have paid into Social Security. I don’t answer to you. So I make shit and write shit.

Just for you, here is some added information you may want to consider. When you are in chronic pain, your brain is very busy with the task of pain management. It begins to act like a one-trick pony, forgetting it needs to manage more things than just pain. I write because it is mind work. I make things because it is mind work. I have to exercise my brain. I have to channel my mind away from pain… there is no cure for chronic pain.

Would you like to see my medical bills?

Would you like to read my diagnosis?

Would you like to pay for my medical expenses for one lousy month?

Be sure to let me know. I have it all! All the documentation your little heart desires. Yet, I still find the time to make shit and write shit! (I too, wish you “had time…”)

I hope you never have to experience what I have had to experience. I hope you never have time to make shit and write shit. Honestly, I do not wish even a moment of pain for you. My only hope is that you would get educated and watch your tongue until you are.

Finally… I want you to know I will never, EVER, even think of you again.

RANT over.

 

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