Thank God it’s Friday!
Thank God it’s February!!
Thank God it’s FINISHED!!!
Pick one; they all work for me.
FINISHED: I am officially disabled, according to the Social Security Administration. It took 3+ years, 2 lawyers and 300+ pieces of paper, but my case has finally been decided. I’m not exactly sure what this will mean for the family, but for now it means that I can concentrate on getting better and learning to live well (w/ or w/out fibromyalgia) with less. Less money, less stuff, less stress. Funny thing, the first doctor the SSA sent me to, in May 2005, found that I was severely disabled. Severely. And the claim was denied, twice. That’s not really funny, is it?
FEBRUARY: I hate January. Hate it, hate it, hate it. It’s cold, dark, the after-the-holidays slump time. I haven’t been able to read, or write, or concentrate on much of anything. My birthday is in January and is always a non-event because it comes on the heels of my son’s birthday. From 2004-2007 I at least had a week in Santo Domingo to break up the January slump, but not this year. I did receive quite a few notes from the Dominican ladies this year, all sending get well wishes. As Eyeore says, “Thanks for noticing me.” Anyway, January is gone, thank goodness. Spring is coming.
FRIDAY: Friday is my favorite day of the week. Period.
I’ve been thinking about time, and timing, the past week or two. Since my SSD case has been decided, a 3-year waiting period ended and a 3-month waiting period begins. Those 3 months of waiting for income to be established will seem as long as the 3 years of waiting for a decision. It’s weird how time expands and contracts. When we’re children it seems like Christmas takes forever to come. As adults we turn around and Bam! it’s Christmas again. My son turned 18 last month. He can’t be 18! It’s not possible that it’s been 18 years since he was born, but it is so. Time moves, and we either race to catch up with it, or turn around to try and slow it down before it runs us over.
And timing….well, let me tell you. There was an article in the local paper last week about a 29-year-old who plead quilty to a sexual assault that occurred about 4 years ago. This man was already in prison, convicted of another sexual assault that occurred around the same time. Here’s the thing: this 29-year-old man was a member of our church as a child and early teenager. He has some diminished mental capacity, but attended middle and high school and graduated. When he was 12 or 13, I can’t remember exactly, he made very inappropriate sexual overtures toward me, at church. He was almost grown physically and could possibly have overpowered me. I was able to talk him into leaving me alone. Seeing his name in the paper, convicted of a second sexual assault, made me realize how close I came to being a victim myself.
Then there’s the murder case. I testified as a witness in a murder trial back in 1994. A local woman was kidnapped and murdered, her bank cards stolen and used to track the culprits’ movements until they were apprehended. I was behind the two men who kidnapped her, in a line at an ATM, during the first 24-hour period after her disappearance. I have a knack for being behind people who don’t know how to use an ATM and I remember thinking “Here we go again…” but something was different. These guys were trying to figure out her PIN. One kept trying the card while the other stood a distance away and was looking all around, very suspiciously. They gave up and left, I got my money and ran back to the car where my husband was waiting for me. I told him to leave, quickly, because something bad was happening. It was like I was super-aware of what they were doing and that there was bad karma in the air. I found out why a year later, when the police called me to look at a photo line-up.
Timing. I could have been attacked, if the timing had been just a little different. OR kidnapped, or worse, if the timing had been a little different. The letter from SSA came at the exact moment in time when I needed it most, when I was thinking that I couldn’t stand one more day of not knowing what was going on with my case, or my life.
Things are going to change, again.
And it’s about time.