The Scarred Life

This buddy of mine has spine problems. Can’t sit or stand for certain periods of time. Uses a cane. Docs have told him he will eventually be in a wheelchair. Finally got his disability approved. I loaned him almost $10,000 to make his mortgage payments, to fucking live and not be homeless. Since his disability has been approved he’s sent me a check to pay me back, should be here any day now. He’s disabled. I ain’t.

My VA counselor seems to think that I am. Has been pushing me to file for disability. What the fuck., lady? You get a bonus for meeting a quota or something? First, when my buddy filed it took damn near six months for approval and payment and this was after a judge ordered his approval and backpay. Second, I AM NOT DISABLED. I get headaches, backaches, sometimes these aches make me choose between being bed-ridden or so drugged I can’t work (or ain’t supposed to) but I don’t use a cane, I work a physical job, I can even hold my dick and aim straight when I piss. I earn a paycheck, pay my bills. She thinks I should file for disability? Scars aren’t a disability. I’ve been polite, but if she keeps it up I’m gonna shut her down with all the vulgarity I can muster. You require medication to live without pain. So, I ain’t the only one. You have debilitating headaches. Yeah, talk to someone who gets migraines. You were blown out of a vehicle by a bomb. Ain’t the only one. You landed on your back. Most did. You’ve been diagnosed with TBI. Me and how many others? I also drive, work, have no wheelchair predicted for my future. I Am Not Disabled. You beat up a coworker. Roger that, he killed an animal that wasn’t doing anything but minding its business. You think your reaction was . . . normal? You saying I had a mentally disabled reaction? Well . . . emotional is the better word. So, I shouldn’t work because I have the potential to beat up assholes? You already have. Yeah, and that asshole wasn’t blown out of a vehicle by a bomb, doesn’t have TBI and I was able-bodied enough to beat the shit outta him. I am not disabled.

Could’ve killed him.

Yeah, like he killed that innocent animal.

Were you taking your medication as prescribed at that time?

- - - - - - - -

That’s what I thought. I’m not trying to demean you. I’m trying to help you.

You’re trying to make me dependent on tax payers.

There’s no shame in accepting help.

And there’s no shame in helping myself.

I work a forty-hour week, pay my rent, pay all my bills, do repairs on my car, have three pistols and two rifles and ain’t killed anyone, take care of my babies, have a SAFE DRIVER endorsement on my driver’s license, sure, yeah, I get angry, sensitive, find myself hyper-alert, lose my temper, but these are all human qualities and they’re not unique for the disabled. She says I’m coming off as very arrogant and macho. I say she’s coming off as very naive and ignorant. She says I’m very coherent and “well-equipped of mind” (whatever the fuck that means) at the moment but what happens when the headaches come? what happens when my back hurts too much? Most people aren’t incapacitated by such pains and aches when such pains and aches are par for the course for being an able-bodied person. She’s only trying to help me, she says. Yes, ma’am, I understand, I’ve been saying. She keeps it up and I’m gonna tell her to fuck herself. If she ain’t too disabled.