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Losing

12 Jul
SSA has decided that I am no longer eligible for disability and will stop paying me starting next month. Additionally, they are going to start billing me for medicare.
 
So I call them to ask “WTF?”, or actually, why is this happening? The office representative’s answer was “I don’t know. It just is.” So I’m filing an appeal based on suspending benefits with no reason. I mean, I’m still disabled (and boy, I’ve tried to make that not so). I’m still unemployable (and boy, I’ve tried to make that not so.) Nothing has changed. It doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t end up homeless because of bureaucratic apathy without at least a valid reason.
 
Every time I get one crisis under control, another one immediately follows. I try to deal with life on life’s terms, but could I get a few weeks off between these things?
 
I try so hard to be kind, do the right things, help others, be honest in all my affairs. My physical health is failing and my emotional instability is still a thing (as anyone who reads my posts knows). Disabled people shouldn’t be treated like this. Disabled vets, who were disabled by their service, shouldn’t be treated like this.
 
I would love to have a job, feel like I have value. I would love to be able to have money every month to buy food rather than depend on soup kitchens. I would love to not have to choose between buying toilet paper or cat food this month.
 
I’ve made attempts to return to work. Nobody will hire me because of the gaps in my work history and my age. I can’t work jobs where I have to stand too long, or sit too long. My hands randomly stop working and I drop stuff. My legs randomly stop working and I fall.
 
I’m a smart person. I’m organized. I’m efficient. Once upon a time, I was considered a valued asset. But the fact is, I’ve tried, but nobody wants me. I no longer have value in the eyes of society.
 
It’s really hard when each day society tells me they don’t want me, but then I talk about suicide and everyone’s like “No, don’t do it. You have so much to live for.” But I can’t get a job because I’m disabled and nobody wants me. And I can’t get disability anymore for reason unknown even to SSA. And now, I”m going to be homeless, because I don’t have family to take me in, and I can’t get money through a job or disability. Wow, and people wonder why folks turn to crime? Or panhandling? Sometimes it’s the only option other than suicide.
 
It’s just not right. Every day I’m trying to give back to the world, and the world is like “Yeah, fuck you.”
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Hampshire Hope: Replacing Shame with Love

25 Jun
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Hampshire Hope: Replacing Shame with Love

25 Jun

via Hampshire Hope: Replacing Shame with Love

Hampshire Hope: Replacing Shame with Love

25 Jun

Wrote this for the Daily Hampshire Gazette.  Here’s the link.  https://www.gazettenet.com/Hampshire-Hope-Replacing-shame-with-love-26111032?fbclid=IwAR2TYTKxZb2QhCJOf6uSIjAGkRz38Ta3Hl7zFh6eyxkv0dcXvBMUdjZw-uM

 

 

Not so funny….

23 Jun

Robert E. Wronski, Jr.

Someone made a joke last night about how I got my injury.  “I heard it was from looking at phone too much.” Let me tell you about this injury.

In 2000, I got the opportunity to serve an internship with Army CID.  For six months, I was excited to go to work every day, and every night I went home feeling like I did something that mattered.  I found something that I was good at. No, I found something that I was great at, and I was able to use my gifts to help people.

After the internship, I had to return to my infantry unit. I had been approved to attend the school to become a CID agent, and I was excited to embark on my future.  But the process still involved a lot more waiting. In the meantime, 9/11 happened and we were preparing to invade Iraq, even…

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Not so funny….

23 Jun

via Not so funny….

Not so funny….

23 Jun

Someone made a joke last night about how I got my injury.  “I heard it was from looking at phone too much.” Let me tell you about this injury.

 

In 2000, I got the opportunity to serve an internship with Army CID.  For six months, I was excited to go to work every day, and every night I went home feeling like I did something that mattered.  I found something that I was good at. No, I found something that I was great at, and I was able to use my gifts to help people.

 

After the internship, I had to return to my infantry unit. I had been approved to attend the school to become a CID agent, and I was excited to embark on my future.  But the process still involved a lot more waiting. In the meantime, 9/11 happened and we were preparing to invade Iraq, even though we didn’t yet know that. We had a guy from the UFC come in to train us in ground fighting techniques.  I got partnered with some new guy from the NBC room who threw me the wrong way, and that’s where my vertebrae were crushed in my spine, which have progressively deteriorated and pushed onto a vital nerve ever since.

 

I’d been a runner.  Running was my meditation. I could no longer run.  It hurt a lot. The army couldn’t use me if I couldn’t run, and I was discharged after ten years of service.  My future in a career where I felt for the first time that I mattered was gone.

 

What followed was depression, alcoholism, opioids, divorce.  I was unable to maintain work at any place that required me to stand for too long, or sit for too long.  My back couldn’t take it.

 

I couldn’t work.  Hell, sometimes even keeping my apartment clean was physically impossible.  I felt useless. I tried to kill myself three times.

 

The army, for my troubles, gives me a small stipend.  I currently get $276 a month for my troubles regarding my back.  And now, after 20 years, I finally convinced them to do surgery. They only finally decided to agree because the nerve was getting pinched to the point that my right arm stopped working.  That’s right. Stopped working. It would just go numb. At first, the doctors said, “Oh well. It’s going to keep getting worse. Nothing we’re going to do about it.” Seriously. My arm was going numb for two years before they finally sent me to a neurosurgeon.

 

So some folks might want to be assholes and make fun of me because I’m not walking around like a hunchback following the surgery.  That says more about who you are. This injury destroyed my life. It separated me from my family. It took away my career. It made me feel useless.  And the army just threw me away and abandoned me despite their responsibility for the entire situation.

 

So it’s not been so funny to me.