I have been on public assistance off and on my entire adulthood, and I am not ashamed to admit this fact.

Back in 2007, I made too much to qualify for food stamps and medical insurance. I was positively ecstatic, and actually took a pair of scissors to my Ohio Direction Card, which replaced paper food stamps years ago.

We get less than $100 a month.

Because of my disability, I was forced to reapply for assistance. My husband makes somewhat decent money, but half of his income goes to child support for his now adult daughter. I am proud of him for paying his dues, but this means that we have much less money than we had before I became sick. We struggle to keep our home, rob Peter to pay Paul, and have even sold our belongings.

Taking on a puppy was probably a silly idea, but then again, even the poorest of us deserve to have pets. I have never claimed to always make the proper decisions. I have cut down on my smoking big time, which is a blessing in itself. That money saved goes for dog food now.

You see how I feel like I need to explain myself?

I get $786 dollars a month on disability. $104 of that goes to pay for Medicare Part D, which I had absolutely no choice about receiving. Β I have been attempting to get what they call Extra Help, which means that I would be able to keep that money every month. It would come in handy, for sure.

I have spent the majority of my day on hold, waiting to talk to someone who can help me apply for this assistance. I have been treated rudely each time I actually got to speak to a real live human being. A woman who barely spoke English made me cry.

This woman works for the United States government, at the Social Security Office located who the hell knows where.

Doesn’t make me feel secure in the slightest.

I have had the same county case worker for almost a year, and he has never called me back. He was supposed to assist me in applying for all this supposed extra “help.” I left a message with the head of his department.

I said and I quote, “It would be nice if you called me back, and perhaps you won’t treat me like a piece of scum.”

I don’t want to be poor. I would give almost anything to go back to work again, so I didn’t have to deal with being just another number. I know that some who read this post will tell me to stop my whining, at least I get something each month to help me survive.

Very true, but the way I got treated today makes me want to tell them to fuck off.

I am more than a social security number and a case number. I am a human being who deserves to be treated with respect, regardless of my health.

I am sad today. Very disgusted and angry. I was finally able to locate a downloadable application for this program, and I plan on sending it snail mail. The online application wouldn’t accept my social, and asked me to call the phone number. I was on hold for 40 minutes, only to have that lady be a royal bitch to me. In fact, I just keep getting the run around, because no one wants to help me.

Stay healthy, my friends here in the states. And for the 50 million of us here who do need help, good luck to you.