I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

I've nothing much to report. I've gone today and got a scan to make sure the infection hasn't spread to my brain. Was given a script for more pills--this time tho', they only cost 8 dollars, thankfully--still, the rent is looming over me like an executioner's ax--no exaggeration.

I've missed the better part of a day's work again--I'm genuinely scared. Not of my health. I'm here or I'm not here. Sorry to say, but that's my reality. I'm replaceable. My friends will miss me, my sister and nephew may mourn, but...in the end...so what? Life will go on, and I'll have made not even a breeze, by my passing. Sorry, but that is actually how I feel about myself. Can't help it, I just do. I've contributed nothing much to this life, I have no partner, no close family around me. I just..am. I'm just that proverbial candle in the wind, the dust in the prairie storm of life. And, that's just the way it is, for some of us.

I'm terrified of homelessness. Once in a lifetime was enough for me thanks--there is only one thing that I ever experienced that was worse than homelessness--and that was the morning I had to sign off on mum's life support, and sit there alone in the room, holding her hand as she died.

Gosh, I would sell my soul to the devil, if I could just be able to live independently, to support myself and no longer have this looming over me all the time.

I miss having a home and family, neighbours, friends nearby. I miss being a kid. Our home was often in disarray and discord--but you know, I still had fun. I miss the security of a home of my own, a place where I truly feel like I belong, and am wanted and needed. I don't have that anymore. I probably won't ever again, I believe.

Well, this is a depressing post. Just ignore it. I'm just in a sad mood today. I really miss my mum, and I also feel physically just so run down. I'm not looking for sympathy, honest. And I'm not whining. There's folks a lot worse off then me out there, bless them, that are managing okay. I suppose I should just try to shake this off myself. But...some days it's just much harder to do that, than others. I need something to laugh about...but I can't find anything. I need a miracle, but the angels are all on their tea break these days.

It's a pity no one develops I.Q. tests, that take into account learning disabilites, or other brain injuries or illnesses--but I suppose on a planet that depends so much on the old square peg in the square hole ideal, that probably won't ever happen.

It's not easy, in America, living with a disability no one can ever see...and that you can seldom tell anyone about--due purely to the stigma of mental illness and/or brain malfunction, that most Americans still harbour. American's attitudes towards those with brain-associated disabilities is too often still lurking in the dark ages.

Well, look at the mass paranoia about Aids, and the homophobia, and the 19th century bigotry, and the 12th century attitudes of some Christians. So, it's really no surprise when some upset teen uses a gun to end his pain, instead of medicine and/or therapy. We help to create this mess, so we should be so shocked when something like this happens.

Anyway, as a person who suffers from both dyscaluia, depression and DCD (dyspraxia), I can say it's horrible, being disabled in the USA.

And it's not just the awful, terrible bigotry and stigma and fear, you have to deal with, either.

DCD and/or dyscalculia make it impossible for me to do a lot of jobs---Excel is doable--but only very, very slowly, and in tiny little increments--and with a VERY patient teacher. Basically, I'm worthless in an office setting that depends on these spreadsheet programmes or any complicated computer programme. My mind is nearly incapable of logical problem-solving on a mathematical level. I very literally cannot even do simple subtraction, division or multiplication, without assistance.

It isn't that I don't want to do it, It isn't as simple a problem as that I have a hard time, doing it, either. It's that my BRAIN won't ALLOW me to do it. I may grasp basic mathematical or scientific concepts--but my brain will very much--to put it in simple terms--skip a step, somewhere along the way, causing me to get quite muddled and flustered--and 75% of the time, leaving me very angry and frustrated with myself--I HATE feeling stupid. It's the worse feeling--I just want to bury myself alive, when I feel stupid--mainly because I do so love to learn---but I've found my brain can only handle learning in small doses.

I also work better, learning one-on-one, or taking notes--with someone there to teach me. I have a great deal of difficulty learning on my own--oh, I can do it, and have, successfully, but only with "easy" subjects, like history, or something like that. Harder subjects, I've found, require a more hands-on approach.

The DCD and dyscalculia sometimes work against each other, as well. Each has their own specific "glitches. However, my math-science-coorindation shortfall, has left me with a positive thing--as bad as my grasp of math/science/logic is, my verbal skills are sharper, perhaps, then if I were a "normal" person....or so I'm told.

I'm a very curious person. I adore doing investigative stuff and problem solving (as long as it's not math/technical stuff), but..it does me no good, in the working world.

I love delving into the why's of a thing, I am big on ferreting out details, I love being creative, and of course, I love the written and spoken word--but, none of these are marketable skills in my country--at least, not were I live. I will always, always be a chav, bottom feeding, low-wage drudge worker--because my illness (well, and my weight-age-looks), prevents me from maxing my potential.

There's no help out there, for someone like me. I have the burden of being "well-spoken" yet being learning disabled. People hear me talk, and they think I'm "normal"--even social workers paid to help the disabled--and I'm treated like dirt--and I speak from long, bitter life experience here---because no one sees me as being disabled...not even the very people who are trained to.

I look "normal," I talk "normal," so I must be, "normal." Next time, when you hear of someone going off the deep end, remember that what we are--truly are--inside, is often not what the reality actually is.

Ugh! I have the worst craving today, for one of Arby's ( http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.arbysdayton.com/i/menu/bacon_n_cheddar.gif&imgrefurl=http://www.arbysdayton.com/menu/classics/&h=94&w=120&sz=10&hl=en&start=11&sig2=1WYsrYRA2sp4CFYwmnNSqg&tbnid=bQX3ehlH7nNsSM:&tbnh=69&tbnw=88&eid=1TlYR-_wOYfsigH1j63yBQ&prev= roast beef and cheddar melts--on their onion rolls with the special sauce...with some of the potato bites (deep fried potato puffs, with cheddar and bacon and served with sour cream-ranch dressing) on the side. Ohhh--could I go for that, right now, pain or no pain, LOL.

moar funny pictures

"If I knew being a Time Lord would make me such a babe magnet, I would'a jumped on the part years ago! Four women in the Tardis? I'm a right sex-pistol, aren't I?"

"Erm--Martha? While I'm down here, can I just say, that I really like the colour of your toe-nail polish. Can I borrow it sometime?"

I keep getting these daft e-mails--which go in the junk bin of course.

But these are quite funny--I'm guessing they're getting my e-mail from the blog.co.uk site, as it's the only UK website with my hotmail address on it, as far as I know. Huh, I always wanted to be a Brit, maybe it's not my student lender that's been taking money from me, but HM's government, ha-ha! Note the two periods after "all rights reserved." Someone wrote this in a hurry.

Anyway, this gave me a chuckle, this morning:

Notification:
After the last annual calculations of your fiscal activity we have determined that you are eligible to receive a tax refund of:

© Copyright 2007, HM Revenue & Customs. All rights reserved..

Anyhow, it's 8 degrees and mostly sunny--that's minus 13 C, for my UK friends. Going to get up to a whopping 27 F, today.

Another teenage shooter on the rampage in America, yesterday. Ho-hum. That's our culture. Unfortunately, the gun lovers (read sexually and emotionally inadequate males) equate guns with freedom, and the NRA (or, as I call it, the NRA/KKK) has a strangle hold on our Washington politicians--and everytime we who T-H-I-N-K try to change the laws, the gun freaks (incl. my future brother-in-law) shriek "foul!" and force the sane people to back off.

So, in a nation whose very capital (which also is the second smallest "state"--district), has the highest murder rate in the nation (this from a former Washington DC police commissioner, so I'm NOT making that statistic up), in a country where no one much enforces the laws that disallow violent felons from owning firearms--although they do enforce the law that doesn't allow them to vote--what's with that?---well, death by gun is a why of life here, so what's the big deal?

For all their false crap about terrorism, the bottom line is, the US govt, and too many US citizens, really don't give a damn about any human life but their own. That's just the way it is, in "New America." Thanks solely to neo-cons like Charleton Heston, Chuck Norris, Rush Limbaugh, Dick Cheney, and the stinking National Rifle Association.

Well, that's how I view it, anyway. I have wanted to emigrate to Canada or Europe for years--but am finding the Republican Disease is spreading all over the globe to places like Canada and the UK. It's a shame, really. But doing things the easy way (not thinking or learning or caring or being respectful) is becoming they way everyone wants to live, I guess.

But..that's just my opinion.

Well, unlike last night, I had a good night's sleep--quite frankly, more from exhaustion, I suspect, than anything else. I have gotten enured to mild pain, but intense pain, one never really gets used to that, I suppose.

Going back to the store in a short while, to get some more meds. I have no idea how I'll pay my bills this month. Dang, life is a (pardon my language) bitch sometimes.

Hope you all have a good day. Cheers. N.

Well, I had part of a sandwich for dinner--and it was all I could do to eat it--I weighed 218 a few days ago, weighed myself today at the health clinic--213! I've lost 5 pounds in just three days! Partly it's from not being able to eat much, and partly it's, I suspect, the sweating from the infection.

I worked my five hours tonight--I work 1 to 9:30 tomorrow, so that's not so bad, at least I can sleep in an extra hour, if I need to. I'm still hurting quite a bit, but mostly I'm just bone-tired weary. Going to bed at ten--something I'd not done in a good long while. I'm hungry, but...just to painful to eat. I have to tear off my sandwich into tiny little bites, but even that's a chore these days. I bought a box of instant chocolate pudding from the little store across from my office building, and, maybe tomorrow, I'll get some instant breakfast drink, and some yogurt or something.

I've got a Dr Who book I've not read in a while to take to bed with me--when the pain's keeping me awake, I read or blog--but usually I read. I read most of The Shadow Riders last night. Tonight it's Terrence Dick's Blood Harvest, from back in the 80's. I used to have his entry into the old Timewyrm series, about the 7th doc and Ace in Nazi Germany--which was fab, read it and re-read it...but somehow lost it, somewhere along the way. Terrence Dicks really had an excellent grasp of the 7th Doctor's character, and is wonderful and filling in background and historical details--I envy writers who can do that...take you into a historical or contemporary context, like you're really there...that's why I like Steven Saylor's Roman mystery series--about Gordianus the Finder--so much.

And, the hot new rumour from the Who rumourmills, is that the Doc's going to have FOUR companions helping him, for the finale--because he gets incapacitated by an explosion. Well, it give's Tennant a rest--well, maybe not. Do I foresee a little lip action in his future?

I'm too tired to write much more. Have a good night everyone, and a pleasant tomorrow.

Oh, and remember, if I stop posting, it's just I've lost my service--I'm still here--and if I'm not, I'll let someone know, somehow.