Today we bring you our tenth and final installment of what it’s really like surviving on public generosity. These are worth reading.
Guess what, assholes?
I live in rural Appalachia, Southwest Virginia to be a bit more exact.
In better days, my husband and I both had full time jobs in this economically depressed area. I had a set of twins shortly after our marriage, one was born with several expensive medical issues. That twin, A, was eligible for Medicaid and Social Security benefits...nothing huge, but a few bucks to help our family care for A. We’d both taken leave from our jobs to travel an hour each way to the hospital where baby A was in the NICU. We were broke and our parents were the only source of money coming in during that time.
Every time someone says “Well, if you woulda kept your legs closed, you wouldn’t need help.” Well, shithead, when I opened my legs, I was making good enough money to raise a family. Things change.
Then, after everyone was home and well enough, we both went back to work. My husband was somewhat abusive when we were dating and early in our marriage. After the stress of twins and one with special needs and medical issues, he became even more on edge. He’d hit me and I dealt with it on my own, just pushing it to the back of my mind. When I arrived home to find one of the twins covered in bruises at 11 months old, I left and moved in with my parents. He disappeared. He shows up every year or two to say hello to the children and the state enforces a small amount of child support for the twins.
When A started having seizures, I’d have to leave work to meet his sitter at the hospital. Sometimes they’d happen late at night/early morning and I’d still be in the ER/Hospital with him when it was time for me to be at work.
After one, I called my job at a Freewill Baptist organization and they wouldn’t even pick up the phone. I had to leave a message to explain why I wasn’t there. No return calls to check on me or my child or even ask when I was coming to work. After the second day of phone calls that got no response, I left a message to quit my job because I was the only parent available to be in the Pediatric ICU an hour away from home with my child and there was no end to our stay in sight.
Back on “the draw”, as people around here call it. I got a bit of shaky child support and a small social security check to raise two kids on, about 700.00 a month at best. Were it not for Food Stamps, WIC and my parents...we would have been homeless, starving and naked.
My area is so stuck in poverty, I know more people who are on public assistance than I know people that aren’t. But there is SUCH a stigma. Nobody admits they get food stamps. People tape other cards on the front of their SNAP cards so they won’t be seen using food stamps. When I got my first EBT card, my Aunt said “Oh great! Just drive to _____ County (the next County over) and do all your shopping!”. Here, if you get Food Stamps, you’re an Obama-ass-kissing freeloading son-of-a-bitch.
I’ve never been ashamed of my card. All I ever want to say is:
Guess what, assholes?
Those Food Stamps fed hungry kids. That Medicaid meant I didn’t drown in debt taking care of my sick child. That WIC kept us healthy. The childcare assistance kept me working as much as I could. All while I went from part-time job to part-time job and stayed full time in school. I’ve shoveled shit, I’ve worked a drive-through, I’ve been a cashier, worked at a call center and as a secretary.
All that public assistance got me a college degree, you fuckers. I recently graduated and landed a well-paying job to where I’ll spend the rest of my life HAPPILY paying taxes to help people like me. I wish I could give MORE than the little bit of my taxes that go to public assistance.
I would not be here, my kids would not be here...without public assistance. I would not be a taxpaying, college educated, employed and educated mother of two without public assistance.
Disabled and stuck
I live in Ohio, am 38 years old, and disabled. I receive SSDI, SSI, food stamps, Medicare, and Medicaid to cover what my Medicare doesn’t. I also get help with my Medicare premiums from the state. The money I get comes to about ~$750 in benefits, with $152 for food stamps. I think that Medicare and Medicaid probably cover tens of thousands of medical costs for me a year. I’ve been on disability for 15 years. My current disabilities are:
Agoraphobia, panic disorder, GAD, PTSD, depression, severe social phobia, arthritis, auditory processing disorder, fibromyalgia, concentration and memory issues (maybe due to the fibro, maybe due to something else), hidradenitis suppurativa, lumbar scoliosis, sleep apnea, seasonal allergies, type 2 diabetes, and degenerative disc disorder with sciatica.
Mind you: that is not the full list of my illnesses. That’s just the half (yes, just half) that cause me severe problems. I seriously have the worst genes ever. (And before you say that “seasonal allergies aren’t a disability”: I tested “severely allergic” to every freaking plant my allergist tested for last year, along with being mildly allergic to some dusts. I am a 24/7/365 ball of watery eyes and snot, people, with medication. Yes, it’s a goddamned disability.)
Even with everything wrong with me, the only reason I got disability was because my father is disabled and I have had severe depression since I was little. (The first time I remember being suicidal was when I was 8.) If I hadn’t gotten sick before I was 19 or my dad wasn’t disabled, I would’ve been screwed, regardless of my health.
I am trying to make my situation better. I volunteer when I can. Finding work seems impossible. I see tons of jobs: jobs I can’t do because of one or more of my disabilities and jobs where I won’t have enough “free time” to go to all my appointments. I can’t afford to go back to school because I had to have my student loans from my one year of college written off due to total and permanent disability. The only way I can get loans again is if I can prove that I’m healthy enough to work 40 hours a week and pay them back, which I can’t do.
I don’t know what to do and Vocational Rehab doesn’t know what to do. So we throw applications out to any job that might work, praying that someone will see that I deserve a chance and will accommodate me. It hasn’t worked yet.
But the truth is, even with work, I’m going to have to stay on benefits. I can’t work full-time and I don’t have the work experience I would need to get a job that would cover my bills while only letting me work part-time. And my degenerative disc disease is degenerative. There’s nothing I can do to make it better — the main branch of my right sciatic nerve is being severed and I’m an epically bad candidate for spinal fusion surgery because of the scoliosis. So my ability to work is only going to go downhill. I’m stuck, all because my brain and body crapped out when I was young.
The idea of losing my benefits is terrifying. I have epic panic attacks every 6 months when my SNAP is reviewed and it’s worse when my SSI is reviewed. I know that if I lost my benefits, me and my roommates (who are both able-bodied and working) would try to make ends meet. They pay most of the rent and all the utilities anyways and we know where the food pantries are.
But my roommates can’t help me if I lose my medical insurance. I’d lose access to my 21 prescription medications and the procedures my pain specialist does. I’d be 99% bedbound, with no psych meds and no morphine. I would be dead very, very quickly..
I didn’t ask for this and I’m not asking for much. All I want is to be able to be a productive member of society and I need benefits to do that.
read more examples..............
gawker.com |
