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At this time, the biggest thing facing me is the threats from Social Secuirty and the State of New Jersey that they might just decide to stop my disability payments. Not that there is any basis for this, not that they do not have all the medical data I have submitted, not that that they do not have permission to get information from my doctors. Not that I am able to work. It is much more insidious than that.
Though my disability actually began long before I ever came to accept it and apply for relief, I could not accept not working any more. So I continued. Until it almost killed me. And then, my body battered by a variety of personal assaults and the victim not the perpetrator of two car accidents, my body "froze up". I went into spinal failure. The way out of it was excruciating. But I did it, though never to be my normal self again. For many years, there was no question, it was and is absolutely clear that I cannot function normally. Sometimes, I cannot function. I find ways around this, from the way I handle my groceries, my food, the way my body moves. I learned to get up off the floor by turning like a babu onto all fours and using furniture to pull myself up. I used to goup the stairs the same way. Now, I can go up the stairs standing with the help of the handrail. Down is slowly and a bit frightening. BUT I USED TO RUN UP AND DOWN THE STAIRS WHEN I WAS WELL. And the government wants to know what is different between now and before. That would take far more than the 1/2" of psace they provide for an answer.
Until 2007, there was not a problem with Social Security except the one time I wrote a letter to Governor Christine Whitman. Along came the inqusition. I was called into the Social Security Office and told the reason I had been "selected" was that Governor Whitman wanted to offer me a job. It came as a shock. Did no one read the information I submitted? I told the interviewer that I felt honored indeed, but working for anyone was an impossibility for me.
Every year from late 2007 on, I have been getting jury summonses regularly, despite each time they had been informed with medical documentation that I could not be relied on to deliver a fair and just verdict. Pain is disruptive, and attention is not on what is going on in the court, but on how to relieve the pain. Enough to derail any concept of a "Fair Trial". And the demand to show up at a very early hour for someone with insomnia not only created an untenable juror, but in driving myself there in such a condition also endangered others. I also could not sit around for 4 to 8 hours while they went through the jury pool. I would end up in pain and the immobility caused by it; again, not paying attention. No honest attorney could put me on a jury expecting true justice. I would miss part of the testimonies and be unable to render a fair decision. I believe it would be an injustice not to recuse myself from jury duty. Additionally, when I am really feeling the effects of the things which disable me, my mood is anything but tolerant. Drug dealing, whining, excuses, thievery of various kinds would have me looking for the maximum penalty.
And since 2007, Social Security has been putting me through the same thing. After knowing that for 20 years there was no way out of my medical condition. So why did that happen? Because an incompetent State Worker decided to use the government not to resolve any crime committed, but for the purpose of harassing me because she was wrong about many things and was confronted by her foibles as a result of what she did to me.
And then, I wrote to Governor Christopher Christie and again, he employes Social Security to harass me. Even after Social Security had approved what I submitted, the State of New Jersey Division of Workforce Development, whom I had contacted 5 years ago and swore there was no record of me and they could not track anything to find an alleged settlement which I never received, now suddenly want to know every move I make on any given day. I suppose that Governor Christie wanted to see me flipping hamburgers someplace. But that is not going to happen. Once in a while, I flip a veggie burger for myself, with cheese, on an English muffin.
I have no normal sleep/wake cycle. I have no normal eating time. I no longer have a normal diet.
I used to have my dinner at 5PM, take a nap, go see friends or work on something in my home I wanted to accomplish. What clothes I didn't sew myself, I customized to fit exactly. My living quarters were immaculately clean. My pets were always very well loved and cared for, even if it was causing me great distress. That was nothing compared to their deaths. I cannot even begin to explain what happened to me when I lost both of my "baby cats" on the same day, on my so-called birthday. I wanted to be dead, emotional pain was so unbearable. I cried, I screamed, I sobbed out loud. And answered an emergency call regarding my Dad. No, I never got over the loss. I've found little joy in anything since then. I tried to stay close to the mommy cat, who suffered at their loss and does still to this day. She cries in the night and she looks for them. Adding another cat did not replace them. I am a gentle person, and I try to comfort her; something else traumatized her in between. She runs away when I go to comfort her, she cries if she thinks I have gone and left her, even if I am only gone from the living room to bed. I have to keep the tv on or the light. So of course I took her to the vet. She has now some valium, which she has figured out numerous ways to hide in her mouth and then eject the stuff. It sometimes helped. Other times, she would fight it; trying to walk, not quite able to control her muscles, but still crying. After several days of that, I decided to try something else. I gave her a quarter dose of the anti-seizure medicine I had left from one of my lost babies who was diabetic. That seems to have been what the trouble was. She had been having seizures of some type, triggered no doubt by certain trespasses committed by the people who live downstairs. It stopped the cycle. She doesn't run from me and has no more fear of the newly-added companion, despite getting a swat for startling her. So our inner peace is returning.
But why do I have to put up with all these selfish, ignorant, ego-ridden treacheries? Not enough that I worked for the Government previously. Not enough that I am in voluntary contact with my Congressman due to an Eagleton Institute Program "Walk A Mile In My Shoes". Not enough that I get ripped off paying car insurance, gasoline, car costs and repairs, and every tax that exists except income and alcohol (I don't consume it). Not enough that during the time of the egos run rampant I have lost the two things dearest to my heart, which helped me endure every hell thrown at me, not enough that I have rescued my Dad from death3 times in the past three and one half years, not enough that despite being in a contimuous state of collapse, I made sure my Dad's feet were not amputated, but healed.
And if it all were not injurious and insulting enough, one of the persons who robbed him physically and conned him out of $40,000.00 and after being fired from the job, refused to stay away, nearly killed my Dad, and scot-free got away with it.
And that's only a microcosm. There will be more written on my immediate reality in future disclosings.
You begin to see why my poem reads "World of scoundrels/Room of thieves/Freedom, freedom, Resdue ME."
Prinzessin Hohenzoller
At this time, the biggest thing facing me is the threats from Social Secuirty and the State of New Jersey that they might just decide to stop my disability payments. Not that there is any basis for this, not that they do not have all the medical data I have submitted, not that that they do not have permission to get information from my doctors. Not that I am able to work. It is much more insidious than that.
Though my disability actually began long before I ever came to accept it and apply for relief, I could not accept not working any more. So I continued. Until it almost killed me. And then, my body battered by a variety of personal assaults and the victim not the perpetrator of two car accidents, my body "froze up". I went into spinal failure. The way out of it was excruciating. But I did it, though never to be my normal self again. For many years, there was no question, it was and is absolutely clear that I cannot function normally. Sometimes, I cannot function. I find ways around this, from the way I handle my groceries, my food, the way my body moves. I learned to get up off the floor by turning like a babu onto all fours and using furniture to pull myself up. I used to goup the stairs the same way. Now, I can go up the stairs standing with the help of the handrail. Down is slowly and a bit frightening. BUT I USED TO RUN UP AND DOWN THE STAIRS WHEN I WAS WELL. And the government wants to know what is different between now and before. That would take far more than the 1/2" of psace they provide for an answer.
Until 2007, there was not a problem with Social Security except the one time I wrote a letter to Governor Christine Whitman. Along came the inqusition. I was called into the Social Security Office and told the reason I had been "selected" was that Governor Whitman wanted to offer me a job. It came as a shock. Did no one read the information I submitted? I told the interviewer that I felt honored indeed, but working for anyone was an impossibility for me.
Every year from late 2007 on, I have been getting jury summonses regularly, despite each time they had been informed with medical documentation that I could not be relied on to deliver a fair and just verdict. Pain is disruptive, and attention is not on what is going on in the court, but on how to relieve the pain. Enough to derail any concept of a "Fair Trial". And the demand to show up at a very early hour for someone with insomnia not only created an untenable juror, but in driving myself there in such a condition also endangered others. I also could not sit around for 4 to 8 hours while they went through the jury pool. I would end up in pain and the immobility caused by it; again, not paying attention. No honest attorney could put me on a jury expecting true justice. I would miss part of the testimonies and be unable to render a fair decision. I believe it would be an injustice not to recuse myself from jury duty. Additionally, when I am really feeling the effects of the things which disable me, my mood is anything but tolerant. Drug dealing, whining, excuses, thievery of various kinds would have me looking for the maximum penalty.
And since 2007, Social Security has been putting me through the same thing. After knowing that for 20 years there was no way out of my medical condition. So why did that happen? Because an incompetent State Worker decided to use the government not to resolve any crime committed, but for the purpose of harassing me because she was wrong about many things and was confronted by her foibles as a result of what she did to me.
And then, I wrote to Governor Christopher Christie and again, he employes Social Security to harass me. Even after Social Security had approved what I submitted, the State of New Jersey Division of Workforce Development, whom I had contacted 5 years ago and swore there was no record of me and they could not track anything to find an alleged settlement which I never received, now suddenly want to know every move I make on any given day. I suppose that Governor Christie wanted to see me flipping hamburgers someplace. But that is not going to happen. Once in a while, I flip a veggie burger for myself, with cheese, on an English muffin.
I have no normal sleep/wake cycle. I have no normal eating time. I no longer have a normal diet.
I used to have my dinner at 5PM, take a nap, go see friends or work on something in my home I wanted to accomplish. What clothes I didn't sew myself, I customized to fit exactly. My living quarters were immaculately clean. My pets were always very well loved and cared for, even if it was causing me great distress. That was nothing compared to their deaths. I cannot even begin to explain what happened to me when I lost both of my "baby cats" on the same day, on my so-called birthday. I wanted to be dead, emotional pain was so unbearable. I cried, I screamed, I sobbed out loud. And answered an emergency call regarding my Dad. No, I never got over the loss. I've found little joy in anything since then. I tried to stay close to the mommy cat, who suffered at their loss and does still to this day. She cries in the night and she looks for them. Adding another cat did not replace them. I am a gentle person, and I try to comfort her; something else traumatized her in between. She runs away when I go to comfort her, she cries if she thinks I have gone and left her, even if I am only gone from the living room to bed. I have to keep the tv on or the light. So of course I took her to the vet. She has now some valium, which she has figured out numerous ways to hide in her mouth and then eject the stuff. It sometimes helped. Other times, she would fight it; trying to walk, not quite able to control her muscles, but still crying. After several days of that, I decided to try something else. I gave her a quarter dose of the anti-seizure medicine I had left from one of my lost babies who was diabetic. That seems to have been what the trouble was. She had been having seizures of some type, triggered no doubt by certain trespasses committed by the people who live downstairs. It stopped the cycle. She doesn't run from me and has no more fear of the newly-added companion, despite getting a swat for startling her. So our inner peace is returning.
But why do I have to put up with all these selfish, ignorant, ego-ridden treacheries? Not enough that I worked for the Government previously. Not enough that I am in voluntary contact with my Congressman due to an Eagleton Institute Program "Walk A Mile In My Shoes". Not enough that I get ripped off paying car insurance, gasoline, car costs and repairs, and every tax that exists except income and alcohol (I don't consume it). Not enough that during the time of the egos run rampant I have lost the two things dearest to my heart, which helped me endure every hell thrown at me, not enough that I have rescued my Dad from death3 times in the past three and one half years, not enough that despite being in a contimuous state of collapse, I made sure my Dad's feet were not amputated, but healed.
And if it all were not injurious and insulting enough, one of the persons who robbed him physically and conned him out of $40,000.00 and after being fired from the job, refused to stay away, nearly killed my Dad, and scot-free got away with it.
And that's only a microcosm. There will be more written on my immediate reality in future disclosings.
You begin to see why my poem reads "World of scoundrels/Room of thieves/Freedom, freedom, Resdue ME."
Prinzessin Hohenzoller
