Gotta say, I'm getting pretty fucking sick and tired of people being mean and cruel to my wife.
First it's her family.
Then she escapes her family to marry a man who is worse.
Then you've got school parents, teachers, and then lawyers and neighbors and Child Protective Services gets pulled in, and it's a pretty fucking shitty world she lives in.
And now, her co-worker.
In front of her son who works with them both.
And her boss who is fully aware of the issue but doesn't have enough employees hired so that she can fire the co-worker.
So my wife, again, gets beaten up, again, and feels like there's nothing she can do to take care of the issue. If she leaves her work, she doesn't get paid. She needs money for, you know, everything. If she stays, she gets beaten up. In front of her son. Who has already spoken to their boss about this treatment.
What the fuck is wrong with this whole goddam planet??!!
Monday, August 31, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
The ABCs of Psychosis
Today I find myself thinking about A.
She has started talking with my wife more than she ever has, which is probably nice for my wife on some level to have her mother wanting to be in her life. It's never easy when a parent doesn't want to be in your life, even if that parent is abusive.
She has spent time with our eldest and given him gifts, some of which he has enjoyed. And during these times she hasn't actively made him feel bad about himself, like telling him to get over his fears and phobias to the point of traumatizing him.
And last night, I saw my wife get a little excited as she told me about their talk. It wasn't huge excitement, but it was excitement. And it very likely could have been excitement over the good things that were happening to us. She's good at compartmentalizing things, much better than I am, and sometimes that's a great quality. Perhaps she was focused on the good elements, and her excitement was a result of those good things. And I suggested that she go to her mother. She said it was an option, and I said that's where we should start. And now here we are.
I get very nervous that my wife is going to be pulled into her mother's world of crazy again. I get nervous that my wife only sees the possibility of moving, and doesn't see that it's being offered by Satan. I have taken Satan's wares before. I am well-versed in the ways of taking shit from Satan without welcoming Satan into my home. My wife believes in etiquette more than I do, which could lead her to see Satan standing outside our house in the rain, and she would open the door to him. "The weather is horrible out there, there's no reason for you to stand out there. Come inside now, you silly Prince of Darkness! I'll make you some tea."
Yeah, I guess I'm drawing parallels between my wife's mother and Satan. And I don't think I've gone too far with that. So far, A hasn't done anything to suggest she cares any more for M or me or her grandchildren than she ever did(n't). What she has done is given a gift a money, and given it without strings (for now), and said it's for all of us, including me. I worry that my wife will find herself in a situation in the future where her mother does something that she's always done-- hurt my wife-- and my wife will think, "wait, this is my mom... she had been acting so nicely. What happened?"
Nothing happened. Nothing changed.
That's important.
Nothing Changed.
The ONLY thing that changed is that I became open to the idea of taking money from her for the gain of my family, myself included. That's the ONLY thing that has changed. Everything else remains the same. So even though it may feel like she's doing something nice for us, saying nice things, she's not. They're all very selfishly planned things.
This situation is a lot like that story. But I'm going to change it around to fit our situation.
There was a mirror who was obsessed with her glass. She believed she was pretty, and important, and worthy of grand things. Other things in the world showed up in her glass, and she believed she had those things, too. Other people had buffalo ranches, and when the mirror saw them in her glass, she believed they were hers. And other people said they respected her, and because they said that to her glass, she believed she had respect. The mirror was aware that her backside wasn't pretty at all. It was cold, and black, and the wood of hadn't been fully painted even. But she didn't focus on that side of herself. She was only concerned with what was in her glass. She often turned her back on people so that others could not share in her greatness. She turned her back on those who would not join her in obsessing about the drama that filled her glass, but that was mostly because she was so consumed with the drama that she was turning to face the drama, and not so much turning her back to those not in the drama, although that was an aspect of her actions. She turned her back on those who told her the truth. She turned her back on those who said different things than the drama said. At one point the drama told her glass that her daughter was having an affair, and she believed it despite her daughters pleas to listen to reason. "Do you understand what it's like, as a man, to have this happen to you?" the mirror spat at her daughter, as if the mirror thought she was a man because a man had showed up in her glass talking of the affair. And when her husband died, she was sad because she wouldn't have his constant drama in her glass, and she didn't know what to do. So she looked around that there was another man. Men are the best, as they can carry heavy things for me, thought the mirror's subconsciousness. After all, I don't have arms and I need everybody to do things for me. She found another man to show her drama in her glass, and she was fine with that. She turned her back on her daughter plenty during this time, because her daughter wanted to take away her man and take away her drama. Silly daughter. Then, one day, the man turned the mirror away. Well! The mirror was being rejected! And that hurt the mirror's feelings. The mirror thought about who would bring the most drama, how she could exact the most revenge against the man who rejected her, and that brought her to his enemy. "Ah," said the mirror to the man's enemy, "I'm ready for you to look at my grand glass." "I'm your daughter," said the man's enemy. "Yes," said the mirror, "let me tell you about the man's secrets."
I don't trust her. And I'm very grateful for her gift. And if this ends up hurting my wife in the end-- WHEN this ends up hurting my wife in the end-- I'm gonna lay down a decree that this woman will have no part in our family ever again.
I am not a mirror.
I do not care about anyone's drama, nor do I get caught up in it.
I do not find it difficult not to get caught up in other's drama.
I find it easy to spot other's drama and sidestep it.
I often am able to separate a person's words from his actions.
I believe that people's actions create the person, not the words. A person who says they love you as they punch you does not love you. A person who punches you is abusing you, whether or not he says anything about love.
Trust happens when your actions support your words. When you say you love somebody, and then you stay with that person when they are sick out of concern for their well-being, your words are supported by your actions and you have helped build trust. When you say you love somebody and then you stay with that person at the hospital when they are sick and you wear your most revealing, red, shear dress showing off most of your breasts in the hopes that others will comment on your figure and want to have sex with you, your words are not supported by your actions and you have helped destroy trust.
It is easy for me to see when people's actions are not supported by their words.
I am feared by X, in part, because he cannot fool me with his words. His words have never supported his actions, and thus, his words have zero meaning to me and it's a waste of time to listen to any of them.
A has not apologized to M, JP, or me. She has not recognized the harm she has done. She doesn't care about me, M, JP, or even JC. She cares about herself, the mirror, and all that she can put in that mirror.
And I have given her the opportunity to put me in her glass.
I will dance this line.
And we'll see what happens.
There is a criminally negligent amount of people who care about the content of a person's character in my life right now. Absolute insanity.
- I hadn't seen M in 2 years, and I called A on the phone, asking for M. A said that M was in the house, and M was taking a shower and would call me back when M was done. I told A that I would wait until she was out of the shower. A laughed and said no, she would take my number and M would call when she got out of the shower. I left my info and begged A to make sure M got that, because I had been trying to get in touch with M for 2 years. A said she would. Many years later, I find out that A did not deliver that message, and even more shocking, M was not in the house and did not take a shower there, so that part wasn't even true.
- A got angry at M for some reason, and stayed that way for multiple years, allowing those feelings to prompt her to tell the attorney for the boys that M's abusive ex was a better parent than M.
- A supported M's abusive ex with gifts of time, love, vacations, furniture, plants and flowers, food, financial assistance, assistance caring for the boys, kind words, emotional support, and companionship. A gave none of this to M, her own daughter.
- A actively refused to listen to M when she was trying to tell A about the horrors that were going on during the divorce. This included refusing to listen to spoken words, cell phone texts, emails, and court documents.
- A decided that she wanted to give M and her family a vacation, which would include JC. M said that it would be pointless to ask the ex for JC to join us but she would give it a try. M asked the ex for some time for JC to spend with us so we could take a vacation, and even offered several options. Ex not only turned down the request for extra time, but when he found out that the family was going to schedule a trip around that time, he scheduled time for JC to be away from M, then told JC that it was "mandatory" for him to be away, thus shortening JC's already short time. A heard about this, and spoke with the ex. She was flabbergasted, not because ex was taking away time JC could spend with his mother, not because her daughter was being bullied out of being a mother to her youngest, but because the ex had denied time that JC could have been spending with A, and that part wasn't okay. Even after this talk, ex said that he wasn't going to change things. And A decided that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
She has started talking with my wife more than she ever has, which is probably nice for my wife on some level to have her mother wanting to be in her life. It's never easy when a parent doesn't want to be in your life, even if that parent is abusive.
She has spent time with our eldest and given him gifts, some of which he has enjoyed. And during these times she hasn't actively made him feel bad about himself, like telling him to get over his fears and phobias to the point of traumatizing him.
And last night, I saw my wife get a little excited as she told me about their talk. It wasn't huge excitement, but it was excitement. And it very likely could have been excitement over the good things that were happening to us. She's good at compartmentalizing things, much better than I am, and sometimes that's a great quality. Perhaps she was focused on the good elements, and her excitement was a result of those good things. And I suggested that she go to her mother. She said it was an option, and I said that's where we should start. And now here we are.
I get very nervous that my wife is going to be pulled into her mother's world of crazy again. I get nervous that my wife only sees the possibility of moving, and doesn't see that it's being offered by Satan. I have taken Satan's wares before. I am well-versed in the ways of taking shit from Satan without welcoming Satan into my home. My wife believes in etiquette more than I do, which could lead her to see Satan standing outside our house in the rain, and she would open the door to him. "The weather is horrible out there, there's no reason for you to stand out there. Come inside now, you silly Prince of Darkness! I'll make you some tea."
Yeah, I guess I'm drawing parallels between my wife's mother and Satan. And I don't think I've gone too far with that. So far, A hasn't done anything to suggest she cares any more for M or me or her grandchildren than she ever did(n't). What she has done is given a gift a money, and given it without strings (for now), and said it's for all of us, including me. I worry that my wife will find herself in a situation in the future where her mother does something that she's always done-- hurt my wife-- and my wife will think, "wait, this is my mom... she had been acting so nicely. What happened?"
Nothing happened. Nothing changed.
That's important.
Nothing Changed.
The ONLY thing that changed is that I became open to the idea of taking money from her for the gain of my family, myself included. That's the ONLY thing that has changed. Everything else remains the same. So even though it may feel like she's doing something nice for us, saying nice things, she's not. They're all very selfishly planned things.
- She decided she was done with X when he wouldn't give JC time with A. It was all about A being denied time when she wanted it, and because she was denied time, she now doesn't spend time with X.
- She honestly asked if M would "allow" JC to stay with us if that was what he chose. M, of course, said "Why in the world would I not allow my son to come and stay with me?" And A's response was, "Well, X said that JP couldn't stay with him anymore." She somehow decided that because X demonstrated that he didn't believe in unconditional love that M must also be that way. Which also shows a total ignorance of how M lives her life and mothers her children. It's also disturbing to think that A, who is a mother, might say "why aren't you doing something when somebody else is doing that bad thing?" I would expect A to have a more firm grasp on what is appropriate behavior and not be so easily swayed by the horrible actions of others. But she never has been that way. She has always played right into the drama.
- A started telling stories about X and X's wife P. Personal stories. Stories that had been private and not for my wife's ears. She was not telling my wife these stories because of a sense of what was just or right. She was telling these stories because she was angry at X for denying time with JC.
- A said that she hoped JC would find his voice, and then in a couple of years decide he wanted to live with M full time in order to get away from that situation over there with X. When M said that probably wasn't going to happen, A said, "isn't there anything you can do as a mother?" My response to that was, "yeah, there is something she can do as a mother, and you totally fucked her, A, by saying that X was a better parent that M, you fucking cunt."
This situation is a lot like that story. But I'm going to change it around to fit our situation.
There was a mirror who was obsessed with her glass. She believed she was pretty, and important, and worthy of grand things. Other things in the world showed up in her glass, and she believed she had those things, too. Other people had buffalo ranches, and when the mirror saw them in her glass, she believed they were hers. And other people said they respected her, and because they said that to her glass, she believed she had respect. The mirror was aware that her backside wasn't pretty at all. It was cold, and black, and the wood of hadn't been fully painted even. But she didn't focus on that side of herself. She was only concerned with what was in her glass. She often turned her back on people so that others could not share in her greatness. She turned her back on those who would not join her in obsessing about the drama that filled her glass, but that was mostly because she was so consumed with the drama that she was turning to face the drama, and not so much turning her back to those not in the drama, although that was an aspect of her actions. She turned her back on those who told her the truth. She turned her back on those who said different things than the drama said. At one point the drama told her glass that her daughter was having an affair, and she believed it despite her daughters pleas to listen to reason. "Do you understand what it's like, as a man, to have this happen to you?" the mirror spat at her daughter, as if the mirror thought she was a man because a man had showed up in her glass talking of the affair. And when her husband died, she was sad because she wouldn't have his constant drama in her glass, and she didn't know what to do. So she looked around that there was another man. Men are the best, as they can carry heavy things for me, thought the mirror's subconsciousness. After all, I don't have arms and I need everybody to do things for me. She found another man to show her drama in her glass, and she was fine with that. She turned her back on her daughter plenty during this time, because her daughter wanted to take away her man and take away her drama. Silly daughter. Then, one day, the man turned the mirror away. Well! The mirror was being rejected! And that hurt the mirror's feelings. The mirror thought about who would bring the most drama, how she could exact the most revenge against the man who rejected her, and that brought her to his enemy. "Ah," said the mirror to the man's enemy, "I'm ready for you to look at my grand glass." "I'm your daughter," said the man's enemy. "Yes," said the mirror, "let me tell you about the man's secrets."
I don't trust her. And I'm very grateful for her gift. And if this ends up hurting my wife in the end-- WHEN this ends up hurting my wife in the end-- I'm gonna lay down a decree that this woman will have no part in our family ever again.
I am not a mirror.
I do not care about anyone's drama, nor do I get caught up in it.
I do not find it difficult not to get caught up in other's drama.
I find it easy to spot other's drama and sidestep it.
I often am able to separate a person's words from his actions.
I believe that people's actions create the person, not the words. A person who says they love you as they punch you does not love you. A person who punches you is abusing you, whether or not he says anything about love.
Trust happens when your actions support your words. When you say you love somebody, and then you stay with that person when they are sick out of concern for their well-being, your words are supported by your actions and you have helped build trust. When you say you love somebody and then you stay with that person at the hospital when they are sick and you wear your most revealing, red, shear dress showing off most of your breasts in the hopes that others will comment on your figure and want to have sex with you, your words are not supported by your actions and you have helped destroy trust.
It is easy for me to see when people's actions are not supported by their words.
I am feared by X, in part, because he cannot fool me with his words. His words have never supported his actions, and thus, his words have zero meaning to me and it's a waste of time to listen to any of them.
A has not apologized to M, JP, or me. She has not recognized the harm she has done. She doesn't care about me, M, JP, or even JC. She cares about herself, the mirror, and all that she can put in that mirror.
And I have given her the opportunity to put me in her glass.
I will dance this line.
And we'll see what happens.
- She said that X had to work a second job as a security guard in order to pay for his legal fees. Every Saturday he works a 12 hour shift as a security guard to pay for his legal debts.
- X has had to take out a full mortgage in order to pay for his debts. When he and M were married, they had purchased the home with cash. When they divorced, M was given part of the home, and X took out a half a mortgage in order to give her the cash equivalent of half the home. He's now had to take out a full mortgage.
- A said it was obvious to her that promises had been made by X towards JC and JP which hadn't been fulfilled. JP told M that when X was getting married, he took JP out to lunch to ask him to be in his wedding. JP said that he didn't know X's new wife, and didn't want to be in the wedding. X then said he wanted to tell JP what things would be like JP decided to live with X rather than M: there would be more opportunities for him at X's house than at M's house. JP asked what kinds of opportunities. "You know, you'll go to college if you want to if you live with me. Your mom can't afford to send you to college. You'll get a car if you live with me. You'll go on vacations. You know, opportunities." JP said that the vacations he had taken with X had been the worst times he'd had in his life, and that was not an opportunity. He said that college was not an interest, and neither was a car if it meant that he would have to live with X. And with that, X decided never to speak with JP again. JC came to M and me and told us that he wanted to live with X more, and one of the biggest reasons he gave was that there would be "more opportunities" at X's house. When asked what kinds of opportunities, he wasn't able to say what opportunities. Later, he was able to say that his father had promised to give him his truck when he turned 16. That truck has long since gone away without any talk of replacement or fulfillment of that promise. A said it was obvious to her that other promises had been made to JC that had not been fulfilled by X.
- A said that she was "disturbed" by their treatment of JC. They actually touch him constantly in a kind of pecking motion, touching his shoulders as if directing him where to go, how to walk, and are constantly directing him as he moves through life. She said that they are constantly telling him things that don't need to be said. "Take your fork to the kitchen. Tuck in your shirt. Wipe your mouth. Wash the fork in the sink. In the other sink. Wash your hands. Say thank you to Mimi. Say thank you now." She said that they text him constantly when he is away. She said that she was afraid his head was going to explode. She was encouraging him to find his voice to say that he didn't want to be treated that way, and she hoped that he would find his voice in a couple of years so that he could say that he would prefer to live at M's house full time. "Would you allow him to do that?" she asked her daughter. "There is nothing in the world that would make me say my child couldn't live with me anymore. That's absurd," responded the daughter. "Well that's what X said to JP," A said. "I am not X," said daughter. "And my children will always have a home wherever I am no matter what they do."
- A said that she hadn't seen M at JC's football games. M explained that she was always there, but that she often couldn't afford to actually go into the games, so she would stay outside the gates, either in her car or in a chair, and find a place where she can see as much of the game as possible. And she would take pictures and send them to JC, and tell him she had been there and supported him. A then said that wasn't how it was coming out of X towards JC. She said that X was telling JC that "mom hadn't come to his football game because she doesn't care about football, and she doesn't care about him enough to get over that and support him at his games. I'm sorry that mom doesn't care about you as much as we do." M assured A that JC knew she had been there and was very supportive of him. "JC didn't correct his father, though, when he said that you hadn't been there," said A. "That would've been bad for JC," said M, "X wouldn't have been happy with that and would have made an issue out of it in a lot of ways. Besides, I don't need to advertise what I'm doing to X. As long as JC knows I'm there and I support him and love him, that's all that's important." A said she wished that she had known that information when she had heard X talking to JC so that she wouldn't have gotten caught up in the badmouthing of M to her son, JC, publicly. Later that night, M texted JC just to remind him that she would be at his games, and if she wasn't in the stands it was because she couldn't afford it, not because she didn't support him, because he was her favorite athlete. "You know that, right?" And he responded that he did know that.
- A said that X and wife P buy all the most expensive football gear for JC and insist that he wear it, which she says is stupid because you can play football in less expensive equipment. In fact, you can rent equipment, which is actually better for a growing boy, as the equipment you buy today won't be usable when he grows.
There is a criminally negligent amount of people who care about the content of a person's character in my life right now. Absolute insanity.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Tark and Splerp
Splerp punched Tark.
Tark looked crossly at Splerp.
Splerp punched Tark.
"I haven't done anything to you," Tark said. "There is no reason for you to behave this way. It's not okay to punch people."
And Splerp punched Tark again to get Splerp to shut up.
Tark had to sit down, because that punch really hurt.
Splerp punched Tark.
And Tark told somebody.
"Splerp punched me!" Tark said.
But Somebody did nothing.
Splerp punched Tark in the back.
And Tark stood confused.
Tark was having a hard time breathing.
Being punched in the back really knocks the wind outta ya.
Questions:
What do you think Tark should do?
Should Tark punch Splerp? Do you think Splerp would punch Tark harder if Tark punched Splerp?
Should Tark walk away from Splerp? What if Splerp and Tark work together, should Tark walk away from Tark's job just to get away from Splerp?
Should Tark talk with Splerp? Knowing that Tark already talked with Splerp and there was no change, what could Tark say differently to make things turn out differently?
Should Tark speak with somebody else about Splerp? Since nobody did anything before when Tark spoke, what could Tark say differently to make things turn out differently? Whom should Tark talk with?
Should Tark shank Splerp with a prison shiv Tark fashioned out of a chicken bone? If so, how many times should Tark stab Splerp to ensure death?
If you were Splerp, what are some reasons why you might be punching Tark?
If you were Tark, what are some things you would do to not get punched in the future?
If you are Tark, what do you need to do in order to feel okay about your situation?
Tark looked crossly at Splerp.
Splerp punched Tark.
"I haven't done anything to you," Tark said. "There is no reason for you to behave this way. It's not okay to punch people."
And Splerp punched Tark again to get Splerp to shut up.
Tark had to sit down, because that punch really hurt.
Splerp punched Tark.
And Tark told somebody.
"Splerp punched me!" Tark said.
But Somebody did nothing.
Splerp punched Tark in the back.
And Tark stood confused.
Tark was having a hard time breathing.
Being punched in the back really knocks the wind outta ya.
Questions:
What do you think Tark should do?
Should Tark punch Splerp? Do you think Splerp would punch Tark harder if Tark punched Splerp?
Should Tark walk away from Splerp? What if Splerp and Tark work together, should Tark walk away from Tark's job just to get away from Splerp?
Should Tark talk with Splerp? Knowing that Tark already talked with Splerp and there was no change, what could Tark say differently to make things turn out differently?
Should Tark speak with somebody else about Splerp? Since nobody did anything before when Tark spoke, what could Tark say differently to make things turn out differently? Whom should Tark talk with?
Should Tark shank Splerp with a prison shiv Tark fashioned out of a chicken bone? If so, how many times should Tark stab Splerp to ensure death?
If you were Splerp, what are some reasons why you might be punching Tark?
If you were Tark, what are some things you would do to not get punched in the future?
If you are Tark, what do you need to do in order to feel okay about your situation?
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Safe
My wife's co-worker told her not to let me go to the midnight showing of Star Wars because there had been so many shootings at movie premiers and she wanted me to stay safe.
What a good idea. I didn't even think about that.
You really can't be too safe these days.
So I thought about other ways I could be safe. You gotta pay attention to what's going on around you, ya know?
It wasn't difficult to figure out pretty quickly that American streets are death traps. So many people die every day! People text and drive, drink and drive, there are teenagers who don't know how to drive, old people who don't adjust their driving quickly enough, Asians, blacks and gangs making things difficult. It was better to just not drive anymore. So I stopped driving. You know, to make sure I stayed safe. I would have to figure out how to get to work some other way.
Then I realized that the workplace is a death trap! So many people get injured or die at work every day, they even have a thing called Worker's Compensation for workers who have become so injured on the job that they can no longer work! Just think about how many things can go wrong! Carpal tunnel syndrome, being shot by cops or blacks or gangs while working as a cop or black or gang, finger amputations in the roast beef slicer, finger amputations from dropping a girder on them while building the new building, finger amputations while trying to perform a surgical finger amputation on somebody else but slipping and performing it on yourself. There are so many things that can get you at work. So I decided to stay at home.
Then I realized that the home is a death trap! There are so many ways to die while you're in your house! Slip and fall getting into or out of the shower, carbon monoxide poisoning that you don't even know about, sleep apnea stops your breathing and you'll never know you're dead until you're dead, getting shot during a home invasion by a gang of Asian blacks, being set on fire by the dragons in your basement. There are so many dangers that I had never thought about!
I couldn't go to a movie, I couldn't go on the streets, and I couldn't stay home. Life was so dangerous, and I really just wanted to stay safe. Some people would say I was living in fear, but I know I'm just being cautious. Fear is not the same thing as caution. Fear is "a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid", while caution is "alertness and prudence in a hazardous situation; care; wariness". I am obviously not distressed or afraid, I am prudent ("wise or judicious in practical affairs; sagacious; discreet or circumspect; sober")-- or wise-- in a hazardous situation. The movies are a hazardous situation! The streets are a hazardous situation! My home is a hazardous situation! I needed to get away from hazardous situations to make sure I was safe!
So I built a room for myself. No one could get in, protecting me from people on the outside. And the inside of the room had a kind of padding to protect me from the hard, hard walls. It was a kind of padded room, if you wanted to call it that. And I made sure that my arms and fingers were safe from flailing around, so I wore a white jacket with buckles and straps around my arms and hands that kept them held straight and tightly close to my body, protecting them from all around me. I suppose you could call it a straight jacket. But before you get any ideas, this wasn't a straitjacket, because that is defined as "a garment made of strong material and designed to bind the arms, as of a violently disoriented person", and I am not violently disoriented. I am safe!
I am completely safe and happy in my padded room, isolated from society and others, protected by my straightjacket.
Man, it's tough to stay safe these days. But well worth it. Nothing's going to hurt me now!
What a good idea. I didn't even think about that.
You really can't be too safe these days.
So I thought about other ways I could be safe. You gotta pay attention to what's going on around you, ya know?
It wasn't difficult to figure out pretty quickly that American streets are death traps. So many people die every day! People text and drive, drink and drive, there are teenagers who don't know how to drive, old people who don't adjust their driving quickly enough, Asians, blacks and gangs making things difficult. It was better to just not drive anymore. So I stopped driving. You know, to make sure I stayed safe. I would have to figure out how to get to work some other way.
Then I realized that the workplace is a death trap! So many people get injured or die at work every day, they even have a thing called Worker's Compensation for workers who have become so injured on the job that they can no longer work! Just think about how many things can go wrong! Carpal tunnel syndrome, being shot by cops or blacks or gangs while working as a cop or black or gang, finger amputations in the roast beef slicer, finger amputations from dropping a girder on them while building the new building, finger amputations while trying to perform a surgical finger amputation on somebody else but slipping and performing it on yourself. There are so many things that can get you at work. So I decided to stay at home.
Then I realized that the home is a death trap! There are so many ways to die while you're in your house! Slip and fall getting into or out of the shower, carbon monoxide poisoning that you don't even know about, sleep apnea stops your breathing and you'll never know you're dead until you're dead, getting shot during a home invasion by a gang of Asian blacks, being set on fire by the dragons in your basement. There are so many dangers that I had never thought about!
I couldn't go to a movie, I couldn't go on the streets, and I couldn't stay home. Life was so dangerous, and I really just wanted to stay safe. Some people would say I was living in fear, but I know I'm just being cautious. Fear is not the same thing as caution. Fear is "a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid", while caution is "alertness and prudence in a hazardous situation; care; wariness". I am obviously not distressed or afraid, I am prudent ("wise or judicious in practical affairs; sagacious; discreet or circumspect; sober")-- or wise-- in a hazardous situation. The movies are a hazardous situation! The streets are a hazardous situation! My home is a hazardous situation! I needed to get away from hazardous situations to make sure I was safe!
So I built a room for myself. No one could get in, protecting me from people on the outside. And the inside of the room had a kind of padding to protect me from the hard, hard walls. It was a kind of padded room, if you wanted to call it that. And I made sure that my arms and fingers were safe from flailing around, so I wore a white jacket with buckles and straps around my arms and hands that kept them held straight and tightly close to my body, protecting them from all around me. I suppose you could call it a straight jacket. But before you get any ideas, this wasn't a straitjacket, because that is defined as "a garment made of strong material and designed to bind the arms, as of a violently disoriented person", and I am not violently disoriented. I am safe!
I am completely safe and happy in my padded room, isolated from society and others, protected by my straightjacket.
Man, it's tough to stay safe these days. But well worth it. Nothing's going to hurt me now!
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Monday, August 10, 2015
Can't Keep It In Any More
I tried not to put this in the world. I'm trying really hard to be more positive and focus on good things and things that are happy and not grumpy. But I'm really overwhelmed right now.
Last night was a horrible night for me. This weekend was kinda difficult.
Our 19-year-old turned 19 last week, and this weekend his brother and my mother and step-father came to celebrate him. On his birthday, my wife texted our 14-year-old to remind him it was his brother's birthday and he might think about texting him birthday wishes to make him feel good. Our 14-year-old did that. Then my wife asked him what he would like to do for a gift for our 19-year-old. She didn't hear anything at all from him. On Friday, he came over, and again she asked what he wanted to do for his brother. He didn't know. She told him that there would be a celebration on Saturday. My wife went to him three times, and all three times he didn't know what he wanted to do to celebrate his brother and he was given time to come up with something. You might have already guessed, he didn't come up with anything. Our 19-year-old celebrated his birthday this year, and his gift from his brother was a text prompted by a mother-reminder. That really makes me angry that that was his choice. Even more frustrating is that there are no natural consequences for this action, because our 19-year-old was truly moved by the text gesture, and vocalized this when his brother came over. Which means this will happen again the next time our 14-year-old needs to think about somebody else, which means this behavior that infuriates me will persist without consequences and continue into the future where it will again infuriate me.
It is highly likely that one of the major reasons why this behavior is so infuriating to me is because I acted this way when I was a child. I needed reminders. I was selfish. I was inconsiderate. I was a big fat fuck. And I am still embarrassed and mad at myself for those actions. I am disappointed in myself and truly regretful of who I am. And to see these qualities reflected in a person who then uses them against the woman I love and have married is a lot for me to take without vomiting in disgust.
Then I'm told that our 14-year-old has some ridiculous football practice from 11pm until 2am on Sunday evening into Monday morning. This is yet another example of the dangerous fanatical way of life that passes for okay in our country. 14-year-olds practicing football until 2am is absolutely ludicrous. Absolutely insane. And my wife feels she has been stripped of any kind of motherly powers over this kind of thing because she's had multiple attorneys tell her as much, as well as her ex-husband. If she makes the sane choice and says, "today you will be taking care of your body and sleeping during the hours your body most-readily uses sleep to recover and make you strong instead of practicing to play a game with a ball," this then comes back to her in the form of legal action. "Since you have refused to promote school activities, a healthy lifestyle of physical activities for the child, as well as obvious antagonism against the child's father, we will be suing for sole custody of the child." Then that action gets taken to court, where she gets grilled about how she is preventing the child from exercising, participating in school activities, as well as participating in activities he says he wants to do. Doesn't matter why he's saying he wants to do the activities. Just matters he's saying he wants to do the activities.
--Time out. You give a kid a choice: say you want to go to the midnight football practice or don't. Either choice is okay. The kid says, "I don't want to go to the football practice." He gets berated and beaten. He's given that choice again, say you want to go to practice or say you don't, whatever you say is right. He says he doesn't want to go, and gets beaten and berated for longer this time, because he's made that choice twice now. He's given that choice again. He chooses practice and doesn't get beaten and berated. Now he's saying whatever his abuser wants him to say in order to avoid being beaten and berated. Time in.--
So my wife takes him to this ridiculous, dangerously fanatical (as all fanatical activities are) bullshit fuck, and guess who's there... his father, the abuser. The Abuser will be taking him home at 2am, because he's going to be staying at the practice that whole time. What kind of sick twisted alternate reality have I slipped into where this is okay and accepted on a large scale?? Where people don't just say it's okay, but they promote it?!
I couldn't sleep last night. All of this was weighing heavily on me. And I had intentionally stayed up with my wife in order to help keep her mind off all of it, which she doesn't talk about with me because she reads my blogs and knows how furious I get. But I know she's injured by all of this still. I know she's injured by it all on a daily basis. Every time her phone makes the sound for You Have Gotten A Text From Your Youngest, I know she will be hurt. Another event is taking him away from her, and he wants to go to it. Another party, another practice, another "work out" with his father that somehow has been defined as a school activity. Or just a non-responsive answer to "How was the last party you went to?", or "Did you do anything interesting this weekend?" Often she will get no response. Then, when she does get a response, it's useless. "No." "I honestly don't remember." "I didn't do anything." And she is very good about suppressing that injury. Repressing it. Pushing it down. Meaning it will resurface later for more injuries that haven't been dealt with. And reminding her of just how inexplicably it hurts to have her child stolen from her, legally, not only by her ex-but his lawyer, the child's lawyer, and her own lawyers. Everyone: "it's okay. It'll work out one day." Yes, it will work out that one day that the child wakes up and says, "You know, all this shit that nobody told me about and I never knew about and never affected me... all this shit that I have no clue about... suddenly, I realize that my mother was always there for me, helping me, standing beside me, even though my father, step-mother, and aunt blame her for everything bad and say bad things about her and have trained me to not listen to my mother, brother or myself. They have trained me to disrespect my mother. But today is the day that, suddenly, I break free from that training and I realize the fallacy of all of that and regret my ways and will start to build the relationship with my mother that she always wanted and deserved for so long. Because even though I was never taught critical thinking skills, one day I will magically use them to critically analyze this situation and realize the truth."
This shit makes me furious because, again, it reminds me of horrible mistakes I've made and horrible hurts I can't undo that I really, really wish I could. And, in my estimation, the biggest difference between me and our 14-year-old is that both my parents pushed me to think for myself and supported that critical thinking that is so essential in healthy growth for humans, and our 14-year-old has had a support for static thinking, along with an almost universal dismissal of any kind of critical thinking. After all, if he were able to analyze his situation, he probably would be speaking out against it. Slaves are kept slaves because they are told things will be worse if they aren't enslaved, and they aren't given the proper tools to actually think about what it would be if they had freedom. My heart weeps for our child. My heart weeps for my wife. And I'm so unbelievably enraged that the most I can do is stand on the sidelines watching the entire tragedy play out before my eyes.
I couldn't sleep last night, and I was sorta awake around 1am. And I thought I was still sorta awake around 2am. So I moved to the couch. And as I left my room, I noticed our 14-year-old's room light was still blazing. And I was furious again. "His father has taken him to his house rather than our house. And there's nothing my wife can do about it." And I stayed on the couch, trying to sleep and not be enraged until my alarm went off. I got up, thought about call in to work, but decided I needed to go in. I got dressed, and as I was leaving the house, I saw out 14-year-old's light snap off. He was in there the whole time, lights on just like so many other nights. And I became incredibly embarrassed of what I had done jumping to conclusions, borrowing trouble for myself, wasting time being angry when I could have been sleeping. And I was enraged at my own stupidity, along with the insanity of the situation. Why would anyone choose to have children if this is what waits for them on the other side of the fantasy?
By the time I got to the Circle K, I was almost calmed down. Then my old supervisor walked in. I hate that fuck. And I gave the girl one dollar bill and six pennies to pay for my ninety-six cent drink, expecting on dime in return, but instead getting two nickels. Why are you all so fucking retarded??!!
Then I got to work, and a co-worker told me the story of how she is going to a divorce attorney on Thursday because her current husband has beaten her truck with his bare hands, causing expensive damage, and she suspects him of starting an inappropriate relationship with a woman because my co-worker has looked at his phone and taken pictures of texts between the two. And she has talked with him about divorce, and he has said that he's not going to divorce her because he has no money. And she's concerned that if she tells him she's leaving him she will become the victim of a murder suicide. And all of her choices are stupid and short-sighted and dangerous and stupid as hell. And maybe if I were in a different place, I would have a different reaction. But right now, I just want her to make the right choices, and then see the choices she needs to make in order to prevent a murder/suicide. She is so dumb. But more than that, the situation is so very ugly. And her husband is so very ugly. And my wife's ex-husband is so very ugly. And our 14-year-old is making choices that are ugly.
And I feel painfully naïve. I feel stupid that I thought there were good people around. My feelings about my wife have grown stronger now. She IS the one for me, because she's the ONLY non-ugly person in this world. My mother and step-father, also, are non-ugly people. And my 19-year-old is not ugly. And while he angers me and frustrates me and pisses me off a lot, my 14-year-old is not ugly, and I hope he does not grow up to be ugly.
I WANT THE GODDAM UGLINESS TO FUCKING STOP NOW!!
And while all of this was going on, I had this super-depressing thought: even if I did win the lottery, it wouldn't make anyone less ugly. It wouldn't make our 14-year-old make different choices, it wouldn't make my wife be less injured by those choices or the people our 14-year-old continues to associate with that continue to injure her. It wouldn't change my wife's ugly ex-husband, or his ugly attorney who lives ugly right across the street from us. It wouldn't lessen the ugly. And I don't know that it would allow me to build a fortress deep enough in the earth to blind me and protect me from the ugly. In fact, thinking that, I'm not really sure that I even want the lottery anymore. I'm don't know that I want anything anymore. At some point, the salmon says, "I'm fucking tired of trying to swim up this stream. The stream keeps pushing me backward, and I'm making no progress, and I see no end in sight. I'm done." And the salmon stops.
I just want it to stop. I'm so tired.
Last night was a horrible night for me. This weekend was kinda difficult.
Our 19-year-old turned 19 last week, and this weekend his brother and my mother and step-father came to celebrate him. On his birthday, my wife texted our 14-year-old to remind him it was his brother's birthday and he might think about texting him birthday wishes to make him feel good. Our 14-year-old did that. Then my wife asked him what he would like to do for a gift for our 19-year-old. She didn't hear anything at all from him. On Friday, he came over, and again she asked what he wanted to do for his brother. He didn't know. She told him that there would be a celebration on Saturday. My wife went to him three times, and all three times he didn't know what he wanted to do to celebrate his brother and he was given time to come up with something. You might have already guessed, he didn't come up with anything. Our 19-year-old celebrated his birthday this year, and his gift from his brother was a text prompted by a mother-reminder. That really makes me angry that that was his choice. Even more frustrating is that there are no natural consequences for this action, because our 19-year-old was truly moved by the text gesture, and vocalized this when his brother came over. Which means this will happen again the next time our 14-year-old needs to think about somebody else, which means this behavior that infuriates me will persist without consequences and continue into the future where it will again infuriate me.
It is highly likely that one of the major reasons why this behavior is so infuriating to me is because I acted this way when I was a child. I needed reminders. I was selfish. I was inconsiderate. I was a big fat fuck. And I am still embarrassed and mad at myself for those actions. I am disappointed in myself and truly regretful of who I am. And to see these qualities reflected in a person who then uses them against the woman I love and have married is a lot for me to take without vomiting in disgust.
Then I'm told that our 14-year-old has some ridiculous football practice from 11pm until 2am on Sunday evening into Monday morning. This is yet another example of the dangerous fanatical way of life that passes for okay in our country. 14-year-olds practicing football until 2am is absolutely ludicrous. Absolutely insane. And my wife feels she has been stripped of any kind of motherly powers over this kind of thing because she's had multiple attorneys tell her as much, as well as her ex-husband. If she makes the sane choice and says, "today you will be taking care of your body and sleeping during the hours your body most-readily uses sleep to recover and make you strong instead of practicing to play a game with a ball," this then comes back to her in the form of legal action. "Since you have refused to promote school activities, a healthy lifestyle of physical activities for the child, as well as obvious antagonism against the child's father, we will be suing for sole custody of the child." Then that action gets taken to court, where she gets grilled about how she is preventing the child from exercising, participating in school activities, as well as participating in activities he says he wants to do. Doesn't matter why he's saying he wants to do the activities. Just matters he's saying he wants to do the activities.
--Time out. You give a kid a choice: say you want to go to the midnight football practice or don't. Either choice is okay. The kid says, "I don't want to go to the football practice." He gets berated and beaten. He's given that choice again, say you want to go to practice or say you don't, whatever you say is right. He says he doesn't want to go, and gets beaten and berated for longer this time, because he's made that choice twice now. He's given that choice again. He chooses practice and doesn't get beaten and berated. Now he's saying whatever his abuser wants him to say in order to avoid being beaten and berated. Time in.--
So my wife takes him to this ridiculous, dangerously fanatical (as all fanatical activities are) bullshit fuck, and guess who's there... his father, the abuser. The Abuser will be taking him home at 2am, because he's going to be staying at the practice that whole time. What kind of sick twisted alternate reality have I slipped into where this is okay and accepted on a large scale?? Where people don't just say it's okay, but they promote it?!
I couldn't sleep last night. All of this was weighing heavily on me. And I had intentionally stayed up with my wife in order to help keep her mind off all of it, which she doesn't talk about with me because she reads my blogs and knows how furious I get. But I know she's injured by all of this still. I know she's injured by it all on a daily basis. Every time her phone makes the sound for You Have Gotten A Text From Your Youngest, I know she will be hurt. Another event is taking him away from her, and he wants to go to it. Another party, another practice, another "work out" with his father that somehow has been defined as a school activity. Or just a non-responsive answer to "How was the last party you went to?", or "Did you do anything interesting this weekend?" Often she will get no response. Then, when she does get a response, it's useless. "No." "I honestly don't remember." "I didn't do anything." And she is very good about suppressing that injury. Repressing it. Pushing it down. Meaning it will resurface later for more injuries that haven't been dealt with. And reminding her of just how inexplicably it hurts to have her child stolen from her, legally, not only by her ex-but his lawyer, the child's lawyer, and her own lawyers. Everyone: "it's okay. It'll work out one day." Yes, it will work out that one day that the child wakes up and says, "You know, all this shit that nobody told me about and I never knew about and never affected me... all this shit that I have no clue about... suddenly, I realize that my mother was always there for me, helping me, standing beside me, even though my father, step-mother, and aunt blame her for everything bad and say bad things about her and have trained me to not listen to my mother, brother or myself. They have trained me to disrespect my mother. But today is the day that, suddenly, I break free from that training and I realize the fallacy of all of that and regret my ways and will start to build the relationship with my mother that she always wanted and deserved for so long. Because even though I was never taught critical thinking skills, one day I will magically use them to critically analyze this situation and realize the truth."
This shit makes me furious because, again, it reminds me of horrible mistakes I've made and horrible hurts I can't undo that I really, really wish I could. And, in my estimation, the biggest difference between me and our 14-year-old is that both my parents pushed me to think for myself and supported that critical thinking that is so essential in healthy growth for humans, and our 14-year-old has had a support for static thinking, along with an almost universal dismissal of any kind of critical thinking. After all, if he were able to analyze his situation, he probably would be speaking out against it. Slaves are kept slaves because they are told things will be worse if they aren't enslaved, and they aren't given the proper tools to actually think about what it would be if they had freedom. My heart weeps for our child. My heart weeps for my wife. And I'm so unbelievably enraged that the most I can do is stand on the sidelines watching the entire tragedy play out before my eyes.
I couldn't sleep last night, and I was sorta awake around 1am. And I thought I was still sorta awake around 2am. So I moved to the couch. And as I left my room, I noticed our 14-year-old's room light was still blazing. And I was furious again. "His father has taken him to his house rather than our house. And there's nothing my wife can do about it." And I stayed on the couch, trying to sleep and not be enraged until my alarm went off. I got up, thought about call in to work, but decided I needed to go in. I got dressed, and as I was leaving the house, I saw out 14-year-old's light snap off. He was in there the whole time, lights on just like so many other nights. And I became incredibly embarrassed of what I had done jumping to conclusions, borrowing trouble for myself, wasting time being angry when I could have been sleeping. And I was enraged at my own stupidity, along with the insanity of the situation. Why would anyone choose to have children if this is what waits for them on the other side of the fantasy?
By the time I got to the Circle K, I was almost calmed down. Then my old supervisor walked in. I hate that fuck. And I gave the girl one dollar bill and six pennies to pay for my ninety-six cent drink, expecting on dime in return, but instead getting two nickels. Why are you all so fucking retarded??!!
Then I got to work, and a co-worker told me the story of how she is going to a divorce attorney on Thursday because her current husband has beaten her truck with his bare hands, causing expensive damage, and she suspects him of starting an inappropriate relationship with a woman because my co-worker has looked at his phone and taken pictures of texts between the two. And she has talked with him about divorce, and he has said that he's not going to divorce her because he has no money. And she's concerned that if she tells him she's leaving him she will become the victim of a murder suicide. And all of her choices are stupid and short-sighted and dangerous and stupid as hell. And maybe if I were in a different place, I would have a different reaction. But right now, I just want her to make the right choices, and then see the choices she needs to make in order to prevent a murder/suicide. She is so dumb. But more than that, the situation is so very ugly. And her husband is so very ugly. And my wife's ex-husband is so very ugly. And our 14-year-old is making choices that are ugly.
And I feel painfully naïve. I feel stupid that I thought there were good people around. My feelings about my wife have grown stronger now. She IS the one for me, because she's the ONLY non-ugly person in this world. My mother and step-father, also, are non-ugly people. And my 19-year-old is not ugly. And while he angers me and frustrates me and pisses me off a lot, my 14-year-old is not ugly, and I hope he does not grow up to be ugly.
I WANT THE GODDAM UGLINESS TO FUCKING STOP NOW!!
And while all of this was going on, I had this super-depressing thought: even if I did win the lottery, it wouldn't make anyone less ugly. It wouldn't make our 14-year-old make different choices, it wouldn't make my wife be less injured by those choices or the people our 14-year-old continues to associate with that continue to injure her. It wouldn't change my wife's ugly ex-husband, or his ugly attorney who lives ugly right across the street from us. It wouldn't lessen the ugly. And I don't know that it would allow me to build a fortress deep enough in the earth to blind me and protect me from the ugly. In fact, thinking that, I'm not really sure that I even want the lottery anymore. I'm don't know that I want anything anymore. At some point, the salmon says, "I'm fucking tired of trying to swim up this stream. The stream keeps pushing me backward, and I'm making no progress, and I see no end in sight. I'm done." And the salmon stops.
I just want it to stop. I'm so tired.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Don't Help People With MY Money!!
A man calls me about a letter we sent him regarding his disability. I try for a good ten minutes to find his case, but I can't. I ask him repeatedly to simply read me the letter, from top to bottom, so I can know what he's looking at and talking about, but instead of reading me the letter he simply insists the letter is for his disability claim. Finally, he reads the letter, which clearly states we are trying to reach another person but have been unable to do so, and they indicated this gentleman might be able to help us locate him. I have an extraordinarily labored conversation with him, finally trying to tell him my name, but he can't understand or even say my name. The phone call ends, and I hang up.
Much later, I receive an email from an out-of-state colleague who is trying to schedule an appointment for the original person in the above story, not the individual I talked to. My colleague stated that she had scheduled an appointment for the original applicant, and hey, by the way, I read your report about the guy who couldn't say your name. Funny stuff! I wrote back and said that I felt compelled to include all of that in my report as it could ultimately affect the outcome of the case if, for example, the original Perth couldn't be contacted we might have a better idea about why contact wasn't able to become established as it was being held up by an individual with comprehension problems. I mentioned to her that it had taken me forever to get him to realize the letter was in reference to another person and it wasn't about his claim. My colleague responded in email form, "I guess some families/friend groups are all on Gov. Assist of some sort. Not good for us tax payers!"
It's common for my colleagues to have the impression that there are "pockets" of the country where people get together and talk. "You're on disability?! But you do meth all the time and you're pain free! How do you get free money to live without working?! I wanna do that, too!" And then the fraudulently sick person explains the intricacies of disability to the Soon To Be On Easy Street person, and soon both of them are fraudulently receiving disability checks. And then their whole apartment complex is receiving disability, and soon it's all of St. Louis and no one is working and everyone is a faker and a cheater and my taxes are being wasted on these liars! And it's true that once in a while people apply for benefits who are obviously lying and trying to scam the program. But that's where I come in and say, "this person is a liar," and then I make my point, and most of the time it's right and the person doesn't get a check. Because I don't want my tax money to be ill-spent, so I do my job to make sure it's spent well. After all, it hasn't been my money for a very long time, I've managed to live without it, and it would be good if it went towards some good.
But many of the people I work with want their money back. Everybody, to them, is lying and their taxes are being squandered on liars and cheats. Why aren't they doing anything about it, I wonder. Or, more often than that, I wonder why they're not joining those people on Disability Easy Street, since it's so easy to deceive the system. I never get a straight answer when I ask that question.
In fact, most of the time if I don't simply agree with the person's point of view, I get strange looks or silence. At first I thought it was because people were thinking about what I had to say and they were thinking about life in a new way. Until I realized these people don't have critical thinking skills, so they're definitely not thinking about what I've said. They are simply confused. Like creating the Mona Lisa right before the eyes of a dog. "What," the dog would say upon your completion. "I got balls to lick."
"I guess some families/friend groups are all on Gov. Assist of some sort. Not good for us tax payers!"
So I responded in the affirmative, and tried to infuse some humor.
"Quite possibly. Although I shudder to think of what might happen if that guy were to work the front counter of a McDonald's. 'Why are you ordering? This is MY Big Mac!'"
I said she was quite possibly right. And then I walked down the street she was paving. The street where she gets her money back, and the social net we all agreed be put in place to help the elderly and those in need be taken away, forcing the disabled people to attempt to care for themselves rather than die under a rock or by walking out in the ocean and drowning. At least the ocean drowners are considerate enough to dispose of their corpses before they die rather than leaving them on the street so that WE, the poor put-upon living are forced to deal with their human detritus. Fuckin' dead, inconsiderate fuckers. You know why they died, don't you? Cuz they're lazy and don't want to work. Which is why we should close down the border.
But my colleague didn't know what to do.
She was confused by the English writing.
It wasn't in agreement with what she was saying... But I was saying she was right.
...migraine from thought loop feedback...
Ten minutes later, her email response came.
"I guess I better get back to taking care of your cases."
Fucking passive-aggressive bitch.
People like her are why we need a huge population purge.
Like cutting out the cancer so the healthy body can remain.
Or vomiting the sickness out so the healthy body returns to health.
I hate her and most everyone.
Happy Wednesday!
Much later, I receive an email from an out-of-state colleague who is trying to schedule an appointment for the original person in the above story, not the individual I talked to. My colleague stated that she had scheduled an appointment for the original applicant, and hey, by the way, I read your report about the guy who couldn't say your name. Funny stuff! I wrote back and said that I felt compelled to include all of that in my report as it could ultimately affect the outcome of the case if, for example, the original Perth couldn't be contacted we might have a better idea about why contact wasn't able to become established as it was being held up by an individual with comprehension problems. I mentioned to her that it had taken me forever to get him to realize the letter was in reference to another person and it wasn't about his claim. My colleague responded in email form, "I guess some families/friend groups are all on Gov. Assist of some sort. Not good for us tax payers!"
It's common for my colleagues to have the impression that there are "pockets" of the country where people get together and talk. "You're on disability?! But you do meth all the time and you're pain free! How do you get free money to live without working?! I wanna do that, too!" And then the fraudulently sick person explains the intricacies of disability to the Soon To Be On Easy Street person, and soon both of them are fraudulently receiving disability checks. And then their whole apartment complex is receiving disability, and soon it's all of St. Louis and no one is working and everyone is a faker and a cheater and my taxes are being wasted on these liars! And it's true that once in a while people apply for benefits who are obviously lying and trying to scam the program. But that's where I come in and say, "this person is a liar," and then I make my point, and most of the time it's right and the person doesn't get a check. Because I don't want my tax money to be ill-spent, so I do my job to make sure it's spent well. After all, it hasn't been my money for a very long time, I've managed to live without it, and it would be good if it went towards some good.
But many of the people I work with want their money back. Everybody, to them, is lying and their taxes are being squandered on liars and cheats. Why aren't they doing anything about it, I wonder. Or, more often than that, I wonder why they're not joining those people on Disability Easy Street, since it's so easy to deceive the system. I never get a straight answer when I ask that question.
In fact, most of the time if I don't simply agree with the person's point of view, I get strange looks or silence. At first I thought it was because people were thinking about what I had to say and they were thinking about life in a new way. Until I realized these people don't have critical thinking skills, so they're definitely not thinking about what I've said. They are simply confused. Like creating the Mona Lisa right before the eyes of a dog. "What," the dog would say upon your completion. "I got balls to lick."
"I guess some families/friend groups are all on Gov. Assist of some sort. Not good for us tax payers!"
So I responded in the affirmative, and tried to infuse some humor.
"Quite possibly. Although I shudder to think of what might happen if that guy were to work the front counter of a McDonald's. 'Why are you ordering? This is MY Big Mac!'"
I said she was quite possibly right. And then I walked down the street she was paving. The street where she gets her money back, and the social net we all agreed be put in place to help the elderly and those in need be taken away, forcing the disabled people to attempt to care for themselves rather than die under a rock or by walking out in the ocean and drowning. At least the ocean drowners are considerate enough to dispose of their corpses before they die rather than leaving them on the street so that WE, the poor put-upon living are forced to deal with their human detritus. Fuckin' dead, inconsiderate fuckers. You know why they died, don't you? Cuz they're lazy and don't want to work. Which is why we should close down the border.
But my colleague didn't know what to do.
She was confused by the English writing.
It wasn't in agreement with what she was saying... But I was saying she was right.
...migraine from thought loop feedback...
Ten minutes later, her email response came.
"I guess I better get back to taking care of your cases."
Fucking passive-aggressive bitch.
People like her are why we need a huge population purge.
Like cutting out the cancer so the healthy body can remain.
Or vomiting the sickness out so the healthy body returns to health.
I hate her and most everyone.
Happy Wednesday!