I really can’t explain the lack of revealing blog posts over here lately. I feel a bit like a performer that is doing a tap dance in order to distract you from the chaos backstage. Not that there is any awful sort of chaos, it’s just the same sort of chaos that we have been enduring for months. And after a recent blog post where I sort of put it all out there I am feeling a bit shy about sharing more.
I mean if I talk about the huge and scary paperwork error within social services that happened this weekend (one that nearly erased all of our benefits) then I open myself up to the possibility of comments about why W and I are even connected with social services in the first place. I guess I am just feeling a bit raw about being judged by some (& mocked and tormented by others). But when I blog I have to remind myself that while the goal is to chronicle my story there are some aspects to it that some will not understand. And I need to be ok with that, but it doesn’t come easily.
The bottom line is that I am just doing the best I can and in moments and situations where I need help I have learned to ask for it. And asking for help has never been my strong suit. But here I am…
The paperwork error was devastating as it was just another moment where I was on the phone in tears and another Monday where W and I drove out to the main offices without an appointment. There were no chairs for us to sit on so we claimed a bit of the floor and I tried to entertain W until our number was called. When we finally were called back, along with a batch of other “drop by” people W and I were led to an empty cubicle and told to wait.
The office was short staffed so social workers from other counties were filling in. A woman walked in, smiled at us, and entered my name into the computer- also referred to as “The System”. According to the system I was receiving weekly unemployment checks. I explained that I wasn’t. I got a small look of, “I’m not sure I believe you” but she said that she would know for sure by entering my social security number. And wouldn’t you know it- it revealed that I was not getting weekly checks. To which the woman said, “this is beyond me! Can you wait here while I deal with these other people and then I will get someone from upstairs to walk us through this mess.”
I was beyond thrilled to have someone interested in helping us. I can’t tell you how many times I have been dismissed or waved away. I routinely get letters that say things like, “all your coverage is ending now” because you never did ____ or _____, when I absolutely HAVE done _____ or ______. And when I call to figure out what is going on I am often told, “Oh just ignore that letter” or “oh a couple people got those letters by mistake” or “don’t worry about it”.
So truthfully it is hard to know what is up and what is down and where we stand. This was the first time something very tangibly bad in our coverage had happened and it just brought up all of my thousand and one feelings of lack of self worth. All of the unhelpful comments that were e-mailed to me anonymously pop into my brain and I sag my shoulders wondering why I am even fighting for this stuff. And then I remember- because we need food, and health insurance. And while I look for graveyard shift work that won’t have me putting 100 miles + on the car every day, we need all the help we can get.
In the cubicle I entertain W by playing our version of Grover’s Near and Far. We are laughing, I feel hopeful that everything will work out. I am not paying attention to anything going on in the next cubicle until I hear, “SIR! Are you breathing???” I hear gasps and remember the older man with the cane and Mets cap. The aid worker leaps up and yells, “I’m going to call 911!” (There are no phones in the cubicles where interviews happen and cell phone coverage is pretty nonexistent.)
There is maybe two seconds of total quiet in the intake area before I scoop W up and invite myself into the cubicle next door. I figured he should not be alone. The man tries to talk to me, to coo at W and I try to get him to be quiet, but he wants to talk. And he tells me how he has been trying to get disability since 2007 and that he keeps being turned down. He tells me how he only had one more fight left in him and that when he woke up that morning not feeling well he figured he should come wait in the lobby of the social services office so that maybe, just maybe, someone would help him.
I can not even tell you how my heart broke to hear his story. Feel his desperation. There were probably all kinds of programs that could help this man but he just didn’t know who to call for help- so he turned to the one place that he knew the address of.
The paramedics were there in a flash and in an instant two men pulled W from my arms scaring the holy fuck out of both of us. It took just a moment to convey that the baby was fine, it was the older man next to me that needed their attention. But oh man THAT will wake you up.
By this point the man had started gasping and wheezing again so together the aid worker and I relayed information. She was able to give his name, age, address, next of kin. I was able to pass on the little info about his health that he had shared with me. And then I clung W to my chest and we stepped out into the hallway.
Another aid worker gestured for me to come into her cubicle and she pulled up my file on her computer. We were able to see the error that had caused the problem. She could not explain HOW it had happened, but she promised she would have someone from upstairs take care of it immediately. But then she quietly said that if no one called me in a few days to call into the office and keep calling. Then she walked W and I to the exit sign and as I loaded him into his stroller I could hear the older man telling the paramedics that he did not want to go the hospital, that he just wanted someone to help him so he could get better and go back to work.
So, there you go, another painful post to write. And another opportunity for some to berate my choices. I am not looking for sympathy though. I promise you. I just keep sharing this stuff because until I found myself here I never knew this kind of low existed. Three years ago I never would have thought that I would be the woman with food stamps in the line ahead of you. The woman that is making it by by the skin of her teeth and with the help of some amazing friends. I just have to have faith that eventually I will be in a position to help out others as much as people have helped me and my family.
Less than 24 hours after the morning at social services the error was corrected and our benefits were restored. And so we limp on with our heads held high until the next clusterfuck storms through.
W remains blissfully amazing and wonderful (except for some sleep/nap boycotting) and I fill up our days with love and play-dates.
W shows off his knowledge of phrenology on his BFF, V
