My Day so far

So my day went good so far.  Except for two things: I wake up right?  And the driver calls me up at like 7:45 AM, and I really wish Blake were on with me at that time because we won’t get to talk till like six my time, which is like 5 PM Arizona standard time.  I wish that I could try and do something about not seeing Blake.  IF I didn’t see him, then I’d be miserable.  But not talking to him would be worse.  My life’s been the hellish stuff that some people might call Indian mush mixed with sour cream.  I have been prevented from talking to people as a child, but as an adult, I have to assert my needs clearly.  I was sitting with a group of people today, and talking about asserting ones needs and “I statements.”  Well, my parents might have felt that such statements do not present themselves well.  They were, in all truth, aggressive with the “do as you’re told” mantra that most parents would follow.  “Do this” and “Do that” do not work for me at all.  I’d rather my kid be able to assert his’her needs first so that he’she can grow up learning how to do that and know the skill I have to know as well.  In truth, my upbringing wasn’t the best, and I have to make it known later on as to why.  I mean, there was a time I would have to agree to eat pepperoni pizza, which is why I hate pepperoni pizza now.  I hate pepperonis altogether, and pizza’s fine, but not pepperoni pizza.  I will never eat pepperoni pizza EVER AGAIN!

As for me being such a complaint addict, I won’t agree to something someone else says about me because of my disability and the fact is I have to know myself.  I want for instance to be able to see my boyfriend.  He lives out of state.  I don’t know when I’ll ever see him, and here’s Cathy, his dear mother, saying I have to “change.”  WHat?  Change what?  I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to change at the moment or ever for that matter.  You can’t prevent an adult from seeing his girlfriend or her boyfriend, Ma’am.  And Ma’am, you have to remember, your son is not exactly the “Golden Boy” of your family.  He never worked, though he was probably a better fighter on the floor than he was.  Whoever He happened to be, I won’t mention here in the blog.

Honestly, it always happens this way with disabled people.  We are favored less than the nondisabled siblings.  Siblings get all the stuff: ipods, the latest tech, etc., iphones, androids, yeah yeah yeah.  But we as disabled people are often on a fixed income.  Shouldn’t WE be getting all the stuff too?  No, it’s too expensive and too bulky?  Good excuse, parental units, but I really need to have an Ipod 5.  Which reminds me, I wanted the WordPress app for IOS, but can’t download because it doesn’t have compatibility with my ipod.  I already spoke to a friend who said he’d try and help me buy an ipod, but still, I have to do something about accessories.  I wish I had money so I could buy things like a new phone–my old one is falling apart all the time and the charger’s on the verge of breaking–and a new set of clothes.  I need a new wardrobe, but if I don’t lose weight, my dressings will likely be too small and always that way.  Worse, I don’t have all my pajamas in my drawers.  Somehow one of the tops got lost in the laundry and somebody jacked it.  A caregiver did stuff in the laundry, but she swore she didn’t see the pajama top.  Damn, I wonder where it went.

There are a few things I must add further.  My day is about to get weirder.  I so wish that I as a disabled person could assert my needs better.  But the government won’t give you any more money than is allowed “because you’re blind.”  AS a senior citizen one day, I might need more.  If Blake and I are married for seventy years and we’re retired and old, we need all that money to cover medicines and life advancing stuff–stuff that could help us live in the hundreds or longer.  Ideas are filling my head at the moment.

But alas, nary a day goes by that I don’t think I’m not the favored child.  I was going to say how I could assert Blake’s need to see me to his own dear mother, but she’d never listen.  IF I said, for instance, “I feel like you’re doing something illegal by preventing me from seeing Blake.”  Ok, does that really work?  I want to say those things, but I’m afraid to because I’ve heard her stance on mental illness.  It’s horrible.  She had no illnesses like that in her family, and that could mean the end of things if I write further on about this.  Then again, the reasons my family has illness are the following: childhood molestation and sexual abuse, abuse of different sorts, abandonment, etc.  Yes, I kid you not, and I’m not about to say that my family is a completely messed up family.  I”m lucky I’m not in a dysfunctional Muslim family like that of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, or Hirsi Magan.  Her sister and dad were fine, but Haweya, her little sister, died because she was obviously abused in such ways by her mother, Asha Artan.  Asha wasn’t a good mother, and her late husband was almost no better by forcing Ayaan to marry a guy she didn’t like or know.  I would do the same thing she did, but worse, if it happened in the United States, I’d go all overboard and put a “no contact” order between my parents and me.  I’d restrain them from contact with me, and I don’t think … well, I’m afraid I might have such a thing placed on me for talking to Blake.  Blake is the best friend Ii’ve ever had, and yes, best boyfriend and most supportive man in the whole world.  I hope that you see this, hon, I want you to see that you are the most I’ve had in a humongous lifetime of … well, neglect should I say.

This is just my thoughts, people.  It’s not something that I mean to say, but after the talk about such things as assertiveness and I statements, said things still rolling around in my head, I went home and checked my email.  YEs, my email.  Email is the best invention since I can’t believe it’s not butter.  Or should I say, “I CAn’t Believe It’s Not Jason.”  Yeah, you’ll learn more in a later post.  Jason is a previous boyfriend I had, and I make fun of him all the time.

I’d be pressed to say more, but I want to give you all some info about me.  I”m a nice lady, but if you cross me the wrong way or steal my money, I”m the kijnd to either get passive or yell at you like, “you sent me an email with a passed due balance on it.”  Shut up, I don’t think that’ll work, I don’t want that past due balance.  Why is that there?  Did you even manage the automatic payments, you dumb corporation?  Laughs out loud.

Author: denverqueen

My name is Beth. I'm blind from birth and enjoy the blogging atmosphere. I am a creative person, a musician, a writer, etc. This is me. Take it or leave it.

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