Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Bright

I haven't posted about the disability process for a long time because I didn't really know what to say.  I received word several weeks ago (by an insanely annoyingly cheerful voicemail) that my disability had been declined.  No reason was given.  I called my therapist, and it turned out that she had gotten a 5 page letter outlining why it was declined.  So my first annoyance was that she got a very detailed explanation, and I got psycho, cheery woman.  There was a lot of reasons and justifications given, but what it boiled down to in the end was that I'm not suicidal.  I'm still so pissed off I'm not sure what to say.  My first thought was, and always is, what?  I should attempt suicide so that they'll believe I'm actually depressed?  I kind of thought my NOT being suicidal was a good thing.  I understand that they have to have a process in place to vet these types of claims.  I also used to work in a health insurance company and was weekly disgusted by the claims managers annoyance at ever having to pay out any kind of money for any reason.  What really makes me angry is that there is nothing before that last and very final step.  Shouldn't they want to work with a person so that she doesn't get to that place?  Depression and mental illness still have such a stigma in this country.  They aren't understood and are often ignored or their importance played down.  Many people think they are giving me good advice when they say things like, "just think happy thoughts and you'll be happy," or "just get out and do something so you'll feel better."  They aren't wrong, exactly, but they aren't helpful, either.  And they clearly don't know what it's like to try and battle the horrible mind and body numbing voices in one's head day after day.  It starts to feel like it would be easier to stop fighting and let the voices win, whether that's something permanent, or just deciding that staying in bed for a day or a week.  I had to wait so long to write about this so it wasn't a post with the f bomb dropped every few words.

If you've stuck with me this far, you're probably wondering about the title of this post and how it can possibly go with that first paragraph.  The truth is, there are always moments of brightness in our darkness.  I had one of those bright moments today.  A friend from church had given me a gift certificate for a massage (she is a massage therapist), and I finally got around to using it today.  Holy buckets, but it HURT.  But in the good way of neglected and abused muscles getting some love and attention.  My lack of yoga definitely showed up in my body, and my friend kept making somewhat shocked comments about how tight I was all over (in a loving way).  I am grateful that she reminded me last week I needed to use my gift certificate, and even more grateful for the hour and a half of pampering and conversation I had today.  A definite bright spot.

And what's brighter than neon?  Actually, I don't know...there probably is something brighter.  But it was a lame attempt at a segue, so let's just look at shoes, ok?












I think these are all horrible in an 80s day glo sort of way.  And I think they are all fabulous in a crazy, bright, fun 80s kind of way.

I hope you had many bright spots in your day today, and that you, in turn, were able to be a bright spot for someone else.

1 comment:

  1. You should have warned me that I needed my sunglasses! Not many bright spots here right now since we are in the middle of the bathroom remodel. Lots of smoke - blue inside and fire related outside. ME

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