Welcome To The Party, Pal. I’m Ded. On Radical Acceptance.

Chronic illness and autoimmune bloggers have been gently pointing out for months now the double standard in how healthy people have recently been expected to respond to the social isolation, physical and mental stress and economic devastation of a virus most of them don’t even have, versus what is and has always been expected of the chronically ill in dealing with illnesses we do have. Healthy people are supposed to be loving and patient with themselves, to get to know and respect their own limitations, to successfully perform self-care, and ask for what they need, and they are entitled to have their limitations and needs honored, no less, whereas people who are actually sick are supposed to disappear, basically, and when that doesn’t work, there is always suicide.

I recently read an article on HuffPo which summed up the standard for healthy people navigating the fallout of the global COVID19 pandemic, as well as the natural disasters playing out concurrently, and it gave me a moment’s peace, actually, to imagine myself in their shoes. To imagine that I could “be assertive” in asking for things, and then expect them to be easily given to me, to fantasize about the following things applying to me:

“Be kind to yourself. […]When we accept that situational factors are draining our batteries, we’re less likely to criticize ourselves for reductions in work quality and productivity.”

“Because the wildfire conditions are fluid, plans may need to be changed or canceled abruptly. […]The more clearly, calmly and matter-of-factly one communicates these parameters, the less stressful it will be when abrupt changes need to be made.”

Obviously, in my case, the “situational factor” I’ve been dealing with — which would tend to destroy, not just drain, my batteries — is a dangerous, painful and debilitating disease that has demonstrably wrecked my life and stolen my future, in addition to whatever else the normies are dealing with including natural disasters. I have written here before about how I was a climate refugee, having lost my home in Hurricane Sandy, before I was a cannabis refugee, attempting to treat the pain and symptoms of disease with medical cannabis. And the states of my health and ability are precarious, fluid, if you will, necessitating that I cancel or change plans abruptly, changes and cancellations which will be accepted gracefully and for which I will not, must not, be shamed or punished. Obviously. Or, these limitations would or at least should be accepted gracefully by anyone who wasn’t an egregious asshole if I were otherwise well, and had a bright (or any) future to look forward to. If I were human, that is how I could expect to be treated, I guess, and if I were treated poorly it would not be a reflection on me, but on other people’s ability to be human themselves.

Continue reading “Welcome To The Party, Pal. I’m Ded. On Radical Acceptance.”

Are Catholics Especially Cruel and Unhelpful Towards the Sick? Ft. Mother Teresa

I have written here before about what “family” means to me, and my experience as well as over a decade of extensive research and writing on the subject has led me to conclude that the nuclear family is, by and large, a bleak, bottomless (and essentially global and timeless) cesspool of misogynistic abuse, oppression and servitude for girls and women.  The post I linked to above received some criticism when I first posted it, and contributors to high-level think-tank “Gender Critical Reddit” and several anonymous WordPress users took the opportunity to share their own experience and extensive research of the nuclear family which was very different than my own. 

Just kidding, really it was just a bunch of beta males and their dick-worshipping handmaidens telling me I was doing feminism wrong by not properly worshipping the dick, in this case via worshipping a dick-centered institution that was created specifically and intentionally to oppress women and relieve us of our resources including our sexual, domestic and reproductive labor.

Anyhoo, one comment/criticism I found interesting was that my outlook on the nuclear family was distinctly Catholic, and (maybe, kind of) made sense from the point of view of a Catholic woman.  This person did not elaborate but it stuck in my mind as a jumping off point for what could probably become an enormous research project that as a chronically ill woman, I no longer have the stamina or frankly the interest to undertake.  Since then, I have poked around a bit and tried to find out the answer to my question, are Catholics really worse than other groups when it comes to treatment of girls and women within the nuclear family?  What do Catholics even believe, and why would Catholicism cause that group to be worse than any other group, be it religious, secular or otherwise? 

Getting to the core beliefs of Catholics was actually harder than I imagined it would be, and I didn’t find a single source that broke it down in terms of sexual politics, and what decidedly Catholic beliefs mean for girls and women compared to other religions.  Thinking about my own situation, I recognized that I have been swimming in Catholicism my entire life and I didn’t even know it: although I was not raised with any religion, my mother and her siblings were raised Catholic, my best friend for the last 40 years — we have known each other since we were 5 — and her entire family were Catholic, and my ex-boyfriend of 15 years and his family were Catholic too.  Could this have something to do with my experience of the nuclear family and how mercilessly bleak it seems for girls and women?

Continue reading “Are Catholics Especially Cruel and Unhelpful Towards the Sick? Ft. Mother Teresa”

Whiney Resident Doctor Wants Hazard Pay for Going to Work and Whines About That and Everything. #boohoo #fuckoff

Letter writing isn’t my forte, and thus neither is open-letter writing.  But I can’t not respond to the bevy of whiney, whingey Western medical doctors who are complaining about their working conditions in Western hospitals, among other complaints, amid the COVID19 pandemic.  And in this post, when I reference “Western” anything, I obviously mean capitalistic and patriarchal, and all capitalistic and patriarchal eminations and penumbras arising therefrom.  In this post, I am responding to this article, which is only the most recent I’ve seen (but perhaps the only one I actually read) written by these clowns who seem to believe that the risks and fallout from practicing capitalistic, patriarchal medicine should be shared amongst the community, you see, while the rewards of working in a top-tier (read: apex predator) capitalistic patriarchal field, including money, power, status, invincibility and the like, should be theirs to savor alone.  #fuckoff

This particular article, that I was actually moved to read, was written by a medical resident and woman of color which are probably the only reasons I read it, already knowing what she was likely to say, but giving her a chance.  Residents are barely even doctors, having just graduated from medical school and having not even taken their exams yet.  They are not even fully licensed to practice medicine and are also known as doctors-in-training, student doctors, or interns, mkay, fucking interns, yet practicing medicine without a license on a largely uneducated, naive public anyway, a public who thinks that anyone wearing a white jacket automatically knows what the fuck they are talking about and more importantly, what they are doing, physically doing with their hands and directing others to do.

Continue reading “Whiney Resident Doctor Wants Hazard Pay for Going to Work and Whines About That and Everything. #boohoo #fuckoff”

Overwashing Causes Cracked Hands. Breathing Into a Mask Invites a Bacterial Colony to Grow on Your Face. Ft. Jodie Foster.

I was always struck by the last part of this scene in the movie Contact, where Jodie Foster’s character is traveling through a wormhole in alien technology interpreted and built by human males.  Instead of just following the instructions an unknown alien civilization sent them and building her traveling pod to specifications, the human males decided they knew better.  So they started adding a bunch of stuff including a captain’s chair bolted to the ceiling of the pod.  The human male-built pod provides a rough ride that appears to be the fault of the aliens and her trip would have ended badly if she hadn’t abandoned the death-chair at the last moment, right before the bolts sheared off and the chair crumpled to the ceiling while she and her compass necklace free-floated effortlessly inside the pod.  As usual, with their megalomaniacal tendencies and arrogant meddling, human males only succeeded in making everything worse.  This message was not lost on me and I have thought about this scene in a 30 year old movie many times.  I am thinking about it right now!  And now, so are you.

Being chronically ill and having no car, I have only been out of my apartment 4 times since my state and town went on lockdown about 2 months ago.  But I don’t really feel restricted and this is hardly a radical change from my “new normal” as a seriously, permanently and progressively ill person.  As I have written about before, I am currently in a tiny rural town in a cannabis-legal state, having moved here 5 years ago in an attempt to treat the aggressive pain and symptoms of my treatment-resistant Crohn’s disease.  Coming from (most recently) Long Island, New York, I have thought many times that the relative quiet and relatively slow pace of this rural community is at least as therapeutic as the cannabis.  While I have managed to achieve the impossible, and something Western medicine was never able to provide — about a 50% decrease in symptoms and a 50% increase in my quality of life — medical marijuana (and relative peace) is not a panacea to a progressive, incurable and untreatable disease and in some ways, due only to the passage of time, I have, predictably, gotten worse.

Continue reading “Overwashing Causes Cracked Hands. Breathing Into a Mask Invites a Bacterial Colony to Grow on Your Face. Ft. Jodie Foster.”

Urgent request: office supplies needed (Patreon link within)

Hi everyone.  This is coming at a bad time as my business is slow and I am extremely short on funds, but I desperately need a new printer.  I had to replace an HP printer I had for several years when the print head died for a second time.  I got a new printer last fall and it’s been a horrible ink hog that I have spent hundreds of dollars on ink to keep going.  After maybe 2 weeks of quality printing, to even get it to print at all takes 30 minutes of cleaning and aligning print heads every single time, and even then I only get a couple more weeks worth out of it before it says it needs more ink.  I have to print about 12 pages a week of consistently high quality.  This printer is not up to the task.  I also need a few different office supplies.

If anyone has an unused gift card to Walmart, Office Depot, Best Buy, Ebay or Amazon, or is able and willing to send an extra donation this month, $300 would go a long way to getting me a decent printer, some extra ink cartridges and office supplies.  For $100 I could get some more ink and just keep using this printer for another couple of months. $30 would get me some office supplies.

For anyone who wants to, donations can be made on my Patreon page.  My email address is posted there in a private post for anyone who wants to send gift cards or correspondence.

I have received $100 already.  Thank you for reading and thanks for your support, we really appreciate it.

How to Make Your Crohn’s Worse for $10 a Week

 

For obvious reasons these extreme budget food haul videos are very popular, where people who live in BFE rural America where a gallon of milk is $1 manage to eke out a sustenance diet on almost no money.  I’ve lived on these extreme budget diets myself for many years, where “beans and torts” was a staple and I could almost never afford a $5 block of cheese but when I could, mmmm, cheese.  What a treat!

These days of course, as a Crohn’s patient, there are more limitations on my diet than a lack of funds although as I am disabled and mostly unable to work, that limitation still applies too.  While I have managed to remain medically stable with no hospital visits or emergencies for almost 5 years due to “lifestyle changes” and importantly, daily marijuana use, I am still severely limited in what I can eat.  For example, through painful trial and error, and as corroborated by the medical literature as well as anecdotal evidence/reports from other patients, I have learned that I, like most Crohn’s patients, am severely lactose intolerant.  For me and many Crohn’s patients, it would be less (well, equally) painful to eat industrial solvent than most dairy products including milk, soft cheese and ice cream.

And since Lactaid and other lactose-nullifying agents don’t work for me to make dairy products tolerable, I also think it’s the proteins in dairy and not just the lactose/sugar I’m reacting to, which makes sense: it seems to be proteins in food that my immune system is attacking which makes eating most foods impossible.  To be even more specific, it seems to be genetically modified proteins — in other words, GMOs — that give me the most trouble.  But genetically modified or not, I cannot tolerate most dairy at all.

The woman in the above vid was able to get a gallon of milk for a dollar, which in most parts of the country is unheard of — it’s usually closer to $4 if not $5.  But as a Crohn’s patient who cannot tolerate most dairy, even if I could get 10 gallons of milk for a nickel I couldn’t drink it, blend it with other things or cook with it.  And of course, a lot of premade and processed foods contain dairy and so are also inedible.  Hard cheese is still on the table and I still look forward to that budget-busting block of cheese when I can afford it.  Of course, now it’s more like $12 and it has to be organic. 

Continue reading “How to Make Your Crohn’s Worse for $10 a Week”

Oh Dear. Greta’s Family Works in Nuclear and She Was a Chernobyl Baby

Remember when I noted that climate change activist Greta Thunberg and all so-called climate change activism is demonstrably pro-nuclear?  And when I speculated that Greta’s self-described autistic “super power” was really brain damage from likely radioactive environmental pollution, exactly the kind of environmental pollution that Greta herself never speaks about or acknowledges at all…in her work as a leader in an alleged environmental activist movement?  Well, there is now an article written on a conspiratard site that confirms both of my suspicions.  And the above vid that cites the article.

Sadly, there are no citations in the article itself on which to follow up and I don’t know what that means.  Did the writer — himself an anti-nuke activist and Hiroshima baby — just make it all up out of whole cloth?  Maybe, but we can also get pretty far down that road by simply using common sense, considering that there are a lot of radiation-damaged people in Greta’s neck of the woods.  Here is a map showing dangerous, genetically/generationally damaging Chernobyl fallout covering parts (well, almost all) of Finland, Sweden and Norway.  Greta’s mother was likely exposed to it as a child in the 80s and they all continue to bask in it today, considering that radioactive contamination stays dangerous forever and never goes away.

chernobyl_radiation

When trying to confirm the claims that Greta’s family is involved in the nuclear industry, I found this article on another conspiratard site which seems to back it up and references some intrigue, namely orphanings, adoptions and multiple name changes of her male and female ancestors that make researching her family and their connections difficult if not impossible.  Here is the part I would be interested in corroborating.  From the first conspiratard article:

Greta’s grandfather Lars Lars Ernman, is retired chief financial officer (CFO) of Sandvik, a world-leading tool-maker that manufactures saws and drills for home carpentry, and also steel pipes for nuclear power plants. In partnership with the French atomic energy giant AREVA, the Swedish manufacturer also produces drilling, tunneling and rock-crushing equipment for the global uranium-mining industry.

I also find it interesting that Greta’s ancestors are seasoned professional actors, as do the conspiratards who are starting to suspect that there’s something not-so authentic about Greta and the movement she has inspired.  A movement that both explicitly and implicitly supports nuclear power while blaming soccer moms for catastrophic weather and climate change while demonstrably not blaming one of the — if not the — largest most environmentally damaging industries this planet has ever known and will ever know again: the nuclear industry, which notoriously pumps out not merely genetic/generational mutations, illness and death but also “hot particles” which contaminate our water, soil, biomass and ourselves with literal heat.

Continue reading “Oh Dear. Greta’s Family Works in Nuclear and She Was a Chernobyl Baby”

The Welfare Gnome! It’s Like a Sock Gnome Except This One Can Actually Kill You. Ft. Joker (Again)

According to the internet, a “sock gnome” is a mythical creature that pilfers socks.  Presumably it lives in or around the dryer where you put an even number of socks in and get an odd number out.  Sometimes it gets tricksy and spits out an even number but the pairs don’t match (meaning it’s pilfered one from more than one pair) but the usual evidence that you’ve had a sock pilfered by a gnome is that there is one left over that doesn’t have a mate and the missing sock never reappears ever.  This is a real thing (if not a real gnome) and everyone knows what this means.

Well, there appears to be a similar creature that lives at Social Services and pilfers sick and poor people’s applications for welfare benefits.  Or something, idk.  I assume these creatures are related but maybe not since this gnome doesn’t play games: its goal seems to be to drive you insane before it literally kills you.  I wrote here before about an application for benefits that went missing, along with a half a dozen other boondoggles that have wasted my spoons and left me scrambling to repeat some administrative process I was barely able to complete survive the first time.

Because while a sick person’s literal inability to jump through bureaucratic hoops is actually the best evidence that someone is extremely ill, someone has decided that only those who are well enough to sing for their supper (or pursue benefits) deserve to eat, as it were.  The first application that went missing was for food stamps, while today I found out that my application to get on a 4 month waitlist to see a doctor went missing 2 months ago and has not been since heard from: although my disability advocate hand-delivered it, the application was never received.

Continue reading “The Welfare Gnome! It’s Like a Sock Gnome Except This One Can Actually Kill You. Ft. Joker (Again)”

Of All The Things I’ve Lost, I Miss My Mind The Most. Ft. Joker

I recently wrote on my Patreon about Dave, my new disability advocate who seemed like he was going to be helpful for once.  Where my previous advocate was good at bleating on endlessly about my alleged “rights” as a disabled person, wasting my time and energy listening to her while not actually helping me gain access to resources, my new advocate put on a seriously impressive show.  Because I don’t have a car and am generally too sick to walk or ride my bike more than a couple of blocks, and likely too sick to drive even if I had a car, he arranged to pick me up for our appointments and afterwards took me back home.

Because I no longer possess executive function and cannot consistently or reliably complete tasks that require it (read: the stuff corporate executives pay other people to do for them, particularly female people, namely secretaries, wives and others) this man filled out applications for me, doing some of them online, addressed and mailed the ones going out of town and hand-delivered the rest.  This was almost unbelievably (!) helpful and I felt cautiously optimistic that things might finally be on the right track: a track towards getting me the disability and need-based benefits I’m entitled to as a seriously ill person with a disabling incurable, progressive disease.

To wit, Social Security benefits, into which I have paid since I started working when I was 15 and which they will just give to me freely if I live long enough but for which I have to beg in order to receive now, and housing, food and cash assistance that will help me stay in my little apartment, run my small business and somewhat control my environment and my access to climate control/lights/running water/refrigeration/toilet etc. and privacy and relative peace in which to care for my 2 adopted shelter cats and manage the daily pain and indignities of my disabling autoimmune disease.

The online application for SSD was returned to me in hardcopy to review, sign and return.  lol.  Along with a notice that if I want to also apply for SSI, the “other” form of disability-based benefits that’s basically exactly the same as SSD and as far as I know requires mostly the same information sent to the same place, I had to do a separate application for that.  lol.  The application for food and cash assistance was “never received” by social services, according to social services, even though Dave hand-delivered it and watched them time/date stamp it himself.  lol.

Continue reading “Of All The Things I’ve Lost, I Miss My Mind The Most. Ft. Joker”

A “Rational Suicide” Note. Ft. Anne Örtegren.

This is a “suicide” note left by a ME/CFS sufferer who sought and found relief from her suffering via legal, medically assisted suicide.  She says this manifesto took her months to write, which I do not doubt a bit: it is long, detailed and polished and was written when she was feeling terrible.  She wrote it with the intent to describe her almost indescribable pain and experience, and to convince others to take action on behalf of ME/CFS sufferers, both of which are lofty communication goals when anyone is seriously ill.

Describing and convincing have been my most impossible endeavors since I’ve been seriously ill myself and I think I have mostly failed, judging by others’ reactions to everything I’ve managed to gather the physical and emotional grit to attempt to communicate: that I am seriously, hopelessly ill with an incurable, progressive disease, that there is no bottom to how bad this can get, and it matters not what anyone thinks about it.  Some things are just true regardless of whether anyone believes it.

In this note, ME/CFS patient Anne Örtegren describes symptoms and dilemmas I have experienced myself and she foresees logical outcomes to her predicament, something sick people and especially sick women are never allowed to do because catastrophization.  For example, she knows that her heightened sensitivity to light and sound will make treatment or recovery in a hospital setting impossible where the standard of care in that environment requires constant activity and interruptions, and provides no privacy and no escape from the harsh industrial lighting, interrogations by (allegedly) well meaning staff and the general hustle and bustle of capitalistic money making on the backs and bodies of sick and dying people.

That is but one example of a sick person making informed prognostications regarding likely outcomes of the things other people want to do to us, and as someone who shares these sensitivities to light and sound (and therefore an aversion to hospital settings) as but one example of our shared experience of being seriously ill, I appreciated her spelling it out.  I also feel extremely sad that she had to, and furious that no one who allegedly cared about her wellbeing including medical professionals who should be fucking sensitive to the actual needs of real patients could make the leap themselves.  There are many such examples in this letter.

See for yourselves, and understand that as illuminating and raw as this letter is, it’s also been edited by the publisher and a so-called suicide prevention expert because the bottom line everywhere appears to be that there is no such thing as rational suicide or euthanasia because well people and people who make money off of the long-term sick and dying say so.  And because living in this capitalistic, patriarchal nightmare is so hideous for so many people that “suicide contagion” exists, where just knowing that someone, somewhere had whatever it took to end themselves is likely to cause untold numbers of happy, healthy consumers with bright futures to do the same damn thing.  Yeah that’s it, let’s keep telling ourselves that.

The letter as published is reprinted below.  The unedited letter supposedly exists online somewhere if anyone cares to look and has the energy to figure out how and where the edited version differs from the original.  Comments are open below.

Continue reading “A “Rational Suicide” Note. Ft. Anne Örtegren.”

A Middle Class Credo

Never let a person in pain threaten your accumulations.  Aka. “Don’t let a drowning person drag you down with them.”

But gambling is cool, if you think you might get a return on your investment at some point, go ahead and throw your money around like beads at Mardi Gras.

And paying for sex is awesome, if you think you might get a good dicking out of it, by all means, give your money to someone transactionally in exchange for catching friction off of them, preferably literally anyone with a dick.  What could go wrong right?  Men are awesome in fact, especially middle aged men with absolutely nothing to show for their first 5 decades of life on this planet as privileged apex predators.  They just didn’t know how to accumulate properly (by hurting people and other living things, including the living planet) but that’s going to change (under your tutelage and with your money) and you might get a return on that investment at some point (see above, “Gambling is Cool”) so it’s all good.  Really just give all men whatever they want.  Nothing bad has ever come of that exact thing ever.

Consumerism is fan fucking tastic.  There are trinkets, environments and experiences available at every price point.  Because you’re worth it, you see.  You are!  Don’t let anyone even imply differently.  If you don’t purchase trinkets, environments and experiences it’s because you have low self esteem and low self esteem is totally real and like the worst thing ever, you know that for a fact because you heard or read it somewhere and you believe everything the media says because it loves you and wants the best for you and anyway, you’re way too smart to be fooled by corporate propaganda.

In conclusion, if you are or want to be or to stay a member of the middle class, never let a person in pain threaten your accumulations, but let other things threaten your accumulations as much as possible.

Comments open.

 

Antiauthoritarianism: Illustration via Juxtaposition.

If the above vid is not the perfect illustration of concept I don’t know what is.  This is the most recent YouTube upload by Royalty Soaps, what used to be a one-woman soapmaking business that has grown over several years into something else.  The backstory here seems to be that at some point, the eldest yet still teenaged daughter in some freakishly large Quiverfull-type family consisting of a mother, a father and a dozen(ish) Irish twins* started making soap and with the help and support of that family has become very successful and has now delegated some of her substantial duties to others.

As described in this vid, this woman’s business recently experienced an unexpected and frightening setback and she relied heavily on her family to correct the situation and save the day, which they did in spades.  They also had the time, energy, material resources and desire to throw her an Insta-worthy backyard 25th birthday party in the midst of this family project.  The party was beautiful and the familial love and care given and received there, as documented in this vid…well watch it for yourself and see what you think.  For me, the experience of watching this was somewhat complicated.  I enjoyed it, was moved by it but it made me deeply uncomfortable and thinky…and hungry for salad, cake and sun tea.

What was so deeply disturbing to me about this footage was the backdrop against which it was shot and I’m not referring to her (albeit somewhat disturbing) home state of Texas, or a photo prop.  The backdrop here, as it is most everywhere, is the social context of capitalism and patriarchy and what that means is that, in order for this situation and this footage to exist, this woman has had to comply, comply, comply in order to reap what must be conditional rewards of love; affection; physical presence and caretaking; emotional care and concern; and finally, material things that, under the current system, really only money can buy.  Doesn’t it?  In her case, she has had to buy into the religious, political and social traditions of her family including the patriarchal authority of her parents, the heterosexual and mommy mandates and more in order to have what she has.  Of course, the traditions of her family mirror the traditions of her culture more or less exactly.

Luckily for her there does not seem to be any obvious conflict between her own values, conscience etc. and that of her family (or culture) but what if there was?  What would happen to her if she woke up one day with, say, environmental concerns implicating overpopulation and natalism, or economic concerns implicating capitalism and the money system and the ethics of making and selling soap (or doing anything) for profit?  What if, God forbid, this Quiverfull (or whatever) daughter woke up one day with feminist concerns which implicate all of that plus the destablization of the patriarchal authority of her father/parents, her husband, her church and the State?

Continue reading “Antiauthoritarianism: Illustration via Juxtaposition.”

The Diagnostics Racket. Ft. Scooby Doo.

This needn’t be a long post but I was just thinking about how disingenuous it is to break up bodies into “parts” and “systems” in order to diagnose what’s wrong with sick people as if it matters.  Sick is sick, and if anyone were being honest about any of this we would all admit that what sick people need, more or less universally, is marijuana and a clean, safe environment in which to convalesce and to maybe or maybe not “recover.”  Some things have no cure.  We know that.

Marijuana works for everything, for every “part” and every “system” (the body/mind as a whole IOW) and this has been known by humans for thousands of years.  Playing dumb and worse, subjecting sick humans to inherently necrophilic compartmentalization in any form in order to heal them is not going to work.  Stabbing sick people in the bone to see if they have leukemia — when we already know that marijuana is a the safe and effective treatment both for leukemia and things that mimic leukemia — is simply cruelty.  Get it?  Subjecting anyone’s allegedly loved one to a bone-stabbing for no good reason — and I just showed that there isn’t a good reason — is cruelty.  And friends and family (and doctors obvs) should be ashamed for doing this but when it comes to the diagnostic racket people seem pretty shameless.  It frankly disgusts me.

You all just want to play dumb, acting like marijuana and a clean, safe place to convalesce isn’t clearly, obviously and universally what’s needed in every case.  Your ignorance is cartoonish.  You sound exactly like Scooby Doo in my exhausted fed up and terminally inflamed brain.

Sick person: I need real medicine that works in the first place and to stop being made worse in the second.

Everyone:  RUUUUTTTTT?  Rye ron’t ret it!

Sick person: The things I need cost money and I am unable to earn money anymore because sick.

Everyone: RUUUUTTTTTT?  Rye ron’t rav renny runny!*

* Obviously I understand that not everyone has money.  But one, a lot of people have a lot more money than they are willing to admit, they just have other priorities.  Also, there is a whole conversation to be had around the fact that sick people aren’t getting what they need, and that conversation needn’t center the finances of one person or one family.  If you aren’t the one who’s sick the conversation should NEVER center on you, it’s not about you.  RUUUUTTTTT?  Yeah.

Comments Open.

Benefits Attorneys are Professional Gaslighters. Language Itself is Gaslighting. Discuss. Or Don’t, It Really Probably Doesn’t Even Matter.

I spent my entire brief career as an attorney trying to get income- and disability-based benefits for vulnerable people.  It was a grueling and traumatizing career track that I realize now (and kind of realized at the time at different times) was based not in actually helping people by understanding their circumstances and getting people what they desperately needed, but in cruelly gaslighting them and wasting their time and energy doing “intakes” and whatnot when they could least afford the expense.  I have written here before about one potential client that was referred to me by a medical provider because he said people were threatening and following him.  Turns out, this man was quite mentally ill and was having delusions and it was left not up to his doctors (who palmed him off on me) but to me, a young attorney, to put the pieces together for him and to figure out what was really going on, but not before wasting a significant amount of his time.

Of course, even if there were people following and threatening him there is little to nothing a lawyer could’ve done about it.  I told the man to call the police if he felt threatened, and as was the policy of the nonprofit I was working for at the time, got the man’s consent to speak with the referring medical providers about his “case” when what I really wanted to do was punch the lot of them in the mouth for failing their own patient so egregiously and palming him off on me like he was garbage and I was a can.  Don’t even get me started on how much I hated that job.  I wasn’t well liked either and after 10 months was invited to leave.  To be fair, if I hadn’t needed the money myself, having just quit a perfectly good job at a for-profit law firm (which I also hated) in order to take that one, I would’ve quit my dream job at this nonprofit after a couple of weeks once I realized what really went on there, and that “case” with the elderly Spanish-speaking mentally ill man is a decent example of what a day at the office looked like there.  Here’s another:

Continue reading “Benefits Attorneys are Professional Gaslighters. Language Itself is Gaslighting. Discuss. Or Don’t, It Really Probably Doesn’t Even Matter.”