Tomorrow’s the big day. 9:30 a.m. Thursday morning, I go before a judge who will decide if I get approved or denied for Disability. As is the norm here in the U.S., I applied two years ago and got denied immediately and had to appeal for a hearing. I got a lawyer, compiled and highlighted research about my conditions, and sent it to him to be uploaded to my digital case file for all parties to view prior to the hearing. I’m hoping they read enough to understand everything well enough to not see me as a faker, exaggerator, hypochondriac, lazy moocher, insane person, or whatever the hell else. My wish is that everything I’ve sent paints a clear enough picture of how hard I have to fight to function. I wrote up a couple lists, too, of my injuries, diagnoses, limitations, etc. Those I just finished yesterday, which is too late to submit, but I’ll have copies with me at the hearing.

I’m nervous. I’ve done a lot of work for this. I’ve spent a lot of time waiting, hoping, and in need. Part of me is relieved it’s finally here, but another part is scared I’ve done all this working and waiting just to be denied and have to start the whole process over again. That’ll be crushing if it happens. I don’t think I’d have another 2 year battle in me, on top of what I expect to come during those two years with my health. My whole life has been one long battle, and I’m fucking spent. Please don’t make me redo this one. I’m already having trouble holding on to hope.

Feeling pretty down and sour today, too. Just fully depleted, wondering if I could sleep the day away. Maybe I’ll just hang out in a hot bath for a couple hours. Hubby’s gone, too, so I don’t have anyone here to hold me, help me do stuff, tell me all the nice things that’ll help me feel better, or just to distract me from my thoughts.

I feel like I’m sitting at the edge of my WTP Beast Pit, looking around for anyone or anything I could go over to, and the only thing I see is an asshole in a judge’s robe waiting for me to fall in.

I need a win tomorrow. I’ve had enough losses. I know I’m luckier than some with these conditions in that I do have a husband to help, but I’ve lost so many fights with doctors, with family and friends, with jobs, with my own damn body. I deserve this, I want it, and I need it. I need a victory.

No, I won’t fall suicidal if I get denied. Don’t worry about that. I just might not try again is all. I probably will eventually, but I might just wait until I have more official diagnoses and at least one GOOD doctor who understands and CARES enough to write a letter in my favor for the next judge. Maybe we’ll have moved by that time, and I’ll be within a better equipped region medically and legally. Maybe the next round of doctors I see will be amazing enough to restore me to a more functional level. Maybe I’ll just channel my energies, full speed ahead, into getting published so I can be rich enough to not need supplemental income from our shitty government.

Who knows… Those are thoughts for a different day.

I could use your help getting through tomorrow, though. Please send calming, supportive, victorious energy this way if you don’t mind. I’ll be needing it.

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