New YouTube video on my channel basically just rambling about life in general; childhood memories, dolls, my future, surgery, decorating for fall/Halloween, etc.
Today was not great of a day except for one little event during the middle of the day. I had gotten a ticket from Build-a-bear for the “Pay your age,” event and was able to take my “future nieces” (older one being 9 years old and the baby, 9 months.) However, earlier that day was not great.
It started by my 9-year-old “future niece,” going to get the mail at my apartment mailbox; I got a letter from St Louis billing department saying that I was “denied,” hardship assistance and didn’t meet the national poverty requirement (how is not having health insurance besides Louisiana Medicaid, and only living on SSI and food stamps, not poverty?) – side note: called and talked to someone and got it straightened out, after I had already had my anxiety panic attack because “I need this surgery but I don’t wanna go into debt and cause my family and friends to go into debt for it.” However, I had to put that anxiety attack away to go enjoy the build-a-bear event with my fiance’, his sister, her husband, and the two children.
The older sister got a “Siamese looking” cat that she named Melody and their mom picked out an adorable bear and put in a “giggle sound,” that made my 9-month-old “future niece,” smile at; we named the bear Giggles. We probably spent more than we wanted to- because if we’d done just the stuffies with no sounds or accessories, it’d have only been $10, but we got each a sound (Melody had a cat sound and the Giggles had the giggle sound effect) so add in $9 more dollars, and then each got one accessory- the cat got a purse, and I don’t remember what the baby got for hers.) The total was $31 something, so $31-$19= the two accessories costing $12 together so about $5 or $6 each. We covered about $10-15 each. It was worth it. I got to forget my anxiety and play with my “future nieces” especially the cute baby. LOL. I love them both, but adorable babies (when not crying and screaming) seem to make the world go right and make you forget your stress, whereas an older child who may not be able to entertain herself that well, may stress you more.)
After Build-a-bear, we went to eat at Cici’s pizza buffet. It was okay. I watched them feed the baby pieces of brownie and how she made that adorable smile at the taste of the chocolatey goodness, and my 9-year-old “future niece,” wanted me to sit by her. She tells me all the time she loves me, she constantly hugs me and wants my attention. She doesn’t seek that from her uncle; she’s even gone as far as to tell the family, “If DJ and Jamie break up, can we keep Jamie instead?” to which the family always corrects her, “aunty Jamie,” and I’m just thinking “don’t force her to call me something if it doesn’t feel natural to her. she doesn’t call DJ, “Uncle DJ,” LOL.
After Cici’s pizza buffet, we departed ways; they were going see a Movie at the theater where my fiance’ brother in law worked at; I think it was only so the 9-year-old wouldn’t beg to stay longer with me and her uncle at the apartment complex, because at the Build-a-bear thing, when we were leaving, she kept saying, “I wish I didn’t have to go home. I wanna stay longer with yall.” Which broke my heart having to be stern and tell her “no,” because she needed to get back and do her Homeschool SchoolWork and plus I didn’t feel that I could entertain her properly: I was still stressing about that letter, in the back of my mind. I told her, we’d try to get her again before I have my surgery in August.
When I got home, I finally had gotten in touch with someone in billing to discuss the letter about being “denied,” financial assistance. They explained that despite it being out of state Medicaid, they were still going to try to file with them, so currently, my balance showed $0.00. The department explained that if Medicaid denies the claim and if I get another bill, just to call them back and explain how I got another bill, and to reprocess my application for financial assistance. So all that anxiety and worry and my panic attack, were basically for nothing because I am not completely “denied,” just denied if Medicaid accepts the claim. I hate how they word the letters, it makes worry creep in. Mom said it was a lesson I need to learn because if I want a family, I can’t be freaking out like that all the time. She also explained how I am not alone in this “battle,” for my obstacles and stuff with my disabilities, I have family, friends, David, his family, etc. But overall that it is the devil playing with me and doesn’t want me to trust in God my father and savior. I need to tell him, “be gone, Satan. My God, my father, loves me and I am wonderfully made for a purpose. He has led me this far for a reason.”
I will try to do better to trust in my God and savior, my loving father, my almighty creator. Amen.
Also when I got home, it started raining so of course, my back started hurting, so I took a 3-hour nap on Pain meds. After waking up, my stomach decided to reject the pizza (I am guessing it was the pizza: my abdomen was swollen, I was bloated and cramping so bad that it sent pain into my sides, my sides of my abdomen were sensitive to touch, and the really bad cramps left me short of breath. It is slowly getting relief after Tums and Pepto Bismol and just time.
Sometimes I wish my life was easy, but God never promised an easy life- Thank you, Adam and Eve, for original sin messing everything up; if they wouldn’t have given in to the serpent’s temptations, we’d all be happy and carefree, running around butt- naked in the Garden of Eden and not knowing any pain or difference. No bullying, no stress, no strife. *Sigh* Paradise lost. However, we are not alone, Jesus, God’s only son, had to die on the cross for crimes he didn’t commit. He suffered, why should we be any better than him and not have to suffer? the answer is, we shouldn’t. Anyway, I am rambling now. Goodnight, God Bless, and try to find the silver lining 🙂
As you all are aware by now, yesterday I went to Vidalia for a pain management appointment and found out that I have Osteoporosis forming. Today, I called my Surgeon in St Louis, Missouri, to find out if it would affect my surgery.
Missouri office: Can they fax it to the results to us?
Me: I’ll call and ask.
Vidalia office: we need a release, however, we can send the results to your referring doctor.
Referring Dr office: Oh, we can’t fax other doctors’ records.
*Facepalms* This is why the medical field and disabilities suck. Can’t get help, what so ever. You are a freaking Dr. Office, do your job!
I called the St Louis office back and explained the situation and they are going to call Vidalia and see if there is something they can do.
So a lot of People have no issues with Disney movies or children’s programming promoting heterosexual “need a man/prince,” mentality, but as soon as something airs with homosexual relations, everyone that is crazy traditional religious is all up in arms and “grab your pitchforks and torches, burn the blasphemers.” It’s 2019 people, there should be no more homophobia, transphobia, disability-phobia, dwarf-phobia, racism, sexist ideas, or any of that stuff. The old testament was before Jesus’ time, the new testament was around Jesus teachings but actually written by “followers” of Jesus. Who knows, they could have thrown in their own views or maybe when it was translated from Hebrew or whatever language, something got “lost in translation.” I mean, think about it, Jesus hung out with the sinners, prostitutes, the “scum of the scum,” as people viewed them. He taught love and acceptance. Not trying to change their ways by saying “You’re GOING TO HELL!” he did it through love, he made them want to turn from their sins, not try to force it.
Today there was an article on WAFB Channel 9 about a My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Episode that featured the character, Scootaloo, being looked after by her same-sex couple aunts; Aunt Holiday and Aunt Lofty. First, it was Arthur about Mr. Ratburn and a gay wedding, and now this. People were all pissed about both “It isn’t appropriate for children,” “Protect our children,” “Satan’s agenda,” blah blah blah.
I may have been brought up Catholic all my life, and I still love my religion, faith, and God almighty, but the organization has its own faults ..*Cough* *Cough* Pedo Priests getting frisky with the altar boys or whatever. We are all human, we all have faults, we all sin.
But the media are doing things like this to try to be relatable and give representation to minorities and their families: Homosexuals(The child or the parents), bi-racial (parents or child), single-parent households, being raised by someone other than parents (Grandparents/uncles/aunts/cousins, adopted, orphaned, fostered, etc.), transsexuals (parents or child), those with disabilities. With more representation and showing that these people aren’t weirdos or “freaks,” and that they are just like everyone else and shouldn’t be targeted, harassed, bullied, etc. over stuff they can’t control.
Since a lot of parents tend to shove their ideas and beliefs down their children’s throats, and not teach their kids to not be little assholes, its up to society to also push in some compassion and empathy because there are many walks of life and no one should be bullied to the point of trauma, depression, homicide, or suicide.
A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.
I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?
If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.
I can’t be the only person that tends to dwell on the past, can I? okay, maybe not the only disabled person, but maybe I am? I don’t know. I just know, I tend to stay in the past and try to recapture those memories and try to implement them now in the current present; however, it doesn’t always work out.
Childhood was so much simpler; No responsibilities, friendships were easier to make and maintain, I wasn’t in as much pain, my anxiety/OCD/depression wasn’t bad until middle school/High School, I didn’t try to fit in as much, I had a pretty good idea of who Jamie Elizabeth Cormier really was, and of course People I cared about weren’t dying left and right. I had a wonderful childhood and lots of wonderful memories despite having my disabilities; sure, there was the occasional person that mistook me for a “monster” or would just stare/point (the bullying really didn’t start until 4th grade). However, like all children, I took it for granted and couldn’t “wait to grow up so that I could do what I wanted.” Boy, who sold me that fairy tale and can I sue them?
Sure, as an adult, I can do some things I want like staying up all night, going out when I want(as long as I am not in college, not working, don’t have previous plans, have the money to do it, and of course, not hurting.) I can drive (again, as long as I am not hurting and I do have the gas money.) I can drink legally(not a big drinker), buy cigarettes (but I don’t smoke), buy a lotto ticket/scratch-off ticket or go to the casino (if I can afford such luxuries at the time.) But, in the same token as an adult, I also have bills (my choice for moving out with my fiance’), I have to make some tough decisions, I have college courses (my choice) or have to work. I have to handle my own medical stuff (paperwork, phone calls, etc). its a lot of responsibilities that causes my anxiety to go into overload and I end up having emotional meltdowns at least once a week.
However, there is always a silver lining: if I stayed in the past, I wouldn’t have learned important life lessons (through mistakes, my experiences with bullying, fights with friends, failing classes,etc.) I wouldn’t have my friends that I made as I got older (junior high, High School, College, my medical “journey” (st Louis, Missouri.) I wouldn’t have my fiance’ and wouldn’t be planning for a wedding. I wouldn’t have my associates degree in general studies and pursuing my bachelors and then further on to try to better advocate for myself and others with disabilities and special needs- teaching young adults with them to better live independently to the best of their abilities through life skills, modifications, adaptations, job skills, and helping them find jobs they are passionate about instead of just the jobs like Goodwill or Arc. That is my dream and with the right amount of willpower and determination, support from family/friends/and community, any dream can become a reality.
For as long as I can remember, shopping always was stressful and a meltdown for me. As a girl, I loved the idea of new clothes and shoes, but a lot of times, the stuff I like a lot, don’t fit the way I like or at all, and I end up having to compromise on an item I wasn’t as crazy about but fit better.
As a female, especially around the teen years, you would probably be shocked to know that I did not enjoy shopping. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved getting new clothes, but when you are a preteen/teenager, who is the only one her age still shopping in children’s department, it gets to be a little flustering.
It wasn’t just the fact that I wasn’t in the “correct” size clothing/ department for my age, it was also the trying on process. I’d grab tons of styles I thought were “cool” and “normal teen girl” fashions that were in children’s size department, but half of the time, maybe only 1 thing I had brought into the fitting room, actually fit and looked good on me, due to my posture and body due to the curve of my Scoliosis/Kyphosis at the time.
If something I really liked/picked out, didn’t fit, my whole world would shatter. I’d lose the joy of shopping for new clothes and have a tantrum in the store; having a “pity-party” and just give up looking, saying I wanted to go home. Thank God, Mom never gave into that, or I’d have gotten nothing. She would pull me aside, and we’d settle on whatever did fit, even if I wasn’t as crazy about that choice, as I was for the thing that I picked out, but didn’t fit. I wasn’t 100% happy about the choices during that time, but it was about 70%, so it was a compromise.
Another thing that was a pain to shop for was shoes! Due to my Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome, I have weak ankles, so I could never wear heels for dress shoes, only flats; but also, I had to have “high Top” sneakers for ankle support. Do you know how hard it is to find “high top” sneakers nowadays? If we got them the same day we went looking for them, we were lucky, after having to search several shoe stores of course. I remember one time, we searched all over Lafayette and Opelousas for high top sneakers and ended up having to wait because we couldn’t find any, thankfully my old ones weren’t so tight that I couldn’t wear them anymore. Shoe shopping was another meltdown. For formal/special occasions, I loved to dress up, and I’d see these lovely heels, but, no, I couldn’t get them because of my weak ankles; I didn’t cry about that, because I knew “can’t wear them,” but I would say “Man, I wish I didn’t have weak ankles, Those heels are so pretty. I’d look so hot in them!” I always had to go with flats, usually, I got ballet slippers, which were easy to slip on and off, so I didn’t mind. The real struggle was for sneakers, because at the time Converse shoes were getting really popular and I wanted what everyone else got, or some really girly shoes; considering the only place we’d usually find high-tops were in boys/men/ or athletic shoes; Half the time, I was wearing boy shoes, and I got teased “Jamie’s wearing boy shoes, Jamie’s wearing boy shoes. She wants to be a boy.” When I couldn’t find shoes that I liked, that were also high tops, I’d have a meltdown like I would when clothes shopping; pitching a fit in the store, and giving up.
Eventually, I gave up trying to fit in, gave up trying to avoid the teasing, because it was something I couldn’t change. It wasn’t like anyone from school would see me in the clothes anyway since uniforms were mandatory. It was just the shoes they’d see, and I couldn’t help that I had to have ankle support, so anytime someone would start to tease me, I’d stop them and say “You know what? Yes, I am in boy’s shoes, but I have weak ankles and need the support for my feet. It’s something I cannot help, but you know what? I got a great personality and don’t deserve this teasing. I have people who love me, and I am going to start loving who I am and things that make me different. Yes, I will have bad days and feel bad about myself and my differences, but I will get over them; whereas you will always be an insecure jerk-off who teases others because you have nothing better to do with your sad pathetic life, so I suggest that you shut up and get a life,” and I’d walk away, or once I got in Jr high school and my “dynamite temper fuse” blew up, I’d start fighting, hitting, and kicking; but I always stood up for myself and never backed down. You know what they say, Dynamite comes in tiny packages, and I am a prime example of that phrase when it comes to people teasing me, teasing or discrimination against special needs individuals, or anyone giving my friends/family problems; I am there, ready to fight, take names, and kick butt. Dynamite Jamie! HAHA!
However, After my 2012 surgery, shopping had gotten a lot easier to find nice clothes that also fit great; but like all good things, it came to an end over the years, and now I have the answer of why: My spinal fusion rods are broken, and my Kyphosis started to get worse again- so that poor posture in my body was back, especially my hips/waist area making my belly protrude out like I am fat or something, when in fact, I am at the perfect weight for my size. Then almost all dresses are fitted nowadays in the waist area; So annoying!
Any other #disabled especially those with #physicalDisabilities have troubles with clothes shopping? Especially #girls #women? I have a wedding tomorrow and had to go to several goodwill shops before I found something not #fitted and #tight and actually looked good on me. Times likes these make me wanna make #clothesLines for people with #physicalDisabilities. But I’m not good at drawing. I have the ideas in my head, but when I try to put to paper, never looks right. Ugghhh.