My Story…
or, how I got here
I wrote this letter to the folks at the Social Security office who have been busy declining my applications for disability. By posting it here, I hope it might help you understand where I am, or at least where I was last June.
I’m not looking for sympathy – just understanding. Of why I don’t call. Or return an email for days. Or come visit. Or whatever.
Dear Ash,
This is an excellent letter and I’m glad to have read it. I couldn’t sleep last night, and had nightmares every few minutes!, so I gave up at 5am, soaked in sweats that had gone on all night. Sigh… I came here to read.
I recall writing on pen and paper, I guess it was in 2000, to the administration. They asked me to describe my worst day and at that time, it was all about depression. I had no idea that other illnesses could cause depression, although, with the life I’d led, and the traumas I experienced, it seemed a natural course and diagnosis.
I had to do the same (write to the disability determination board) with my son. I remember that letter even more clearly, as it was so hard to write his worst day and to allow myself to think the symptoms may not go away, which they didn’t. I cried so much I had to make many copies b/c I kept soaking them as I wrote.
It’s so hard telling people about what disabled means, personally.
I was just telling a new acquaintance that I have a disability and get a small income as a result. He asked if I hired an attorney. Told him no, and that my app was approved within about thirty days. Nearly unheard of, but I hadn’t worked in three years before applying. He said, “They probably approved you because you are nice and they liked you.”
It wasn’t ’til the next day that his remark hit me. I didn’t like it, but decided it didn’t matter one iota what he thinks, because everyone thinks something about it and most have an accusatory attitude.
I’m glad your application was approved! What in the world would we do without those benefits. I mean, truly! Now, when they send those papers for re-examination, I have so many diagnoses and doctors I’ve seen, that they don’t even go through with the investigation.
Being disabled is no fun. Some people think it is. Some people think we have it made! Not having future earning potential and not being able to clean our homes, and all the other things we used to take for granted and think was so easy, which are all now far from our reach, and mostly, not even a whisper of a hope that we could return to the state we were in before we gave up our businesses. (I used to plant butterfly and hummingbird gardens and it was so much fun! Why would anyone want to give that up?) My sister said to me while I was applying, that she wished I wanted more in life. She wished I wanted all that she had (from working).
Well, thanks for the space to share with you.
Thanks again for posting this letter.
Your friend,
Michelle.