Sunday, November 5, 2017

Frustration With the Brain-I'm Just Like You

I often have to change passwords several times a week.  Why?  Because, even though I write them down, they don't seem to work.

This infuriates me.

As you know, I have traumatic brain injury and have had two seizures-as well as countless pallets which have hit me atop the head when I worked at Walmart-and I think that's what finally did it.
I'm thinking of seeking legal help on this, because it happened in two locations, so it's the Company itself which doesn't care about the safety of its workers.  Then again, there's no union to stop them..

This is why we have unions; to protect American workers from corporate indifference.

I am not the same as I was since all of this has happened.  While it started with the second seizure I had in 2007, one knows from the lawsuits former NFL players have filed that blows to the head also wreak havoc on the brain; namely with temper and memory-and those are my biggest concerns.

The funny thing is that my long-term memory is fine, so I can tell you that I remember my supervisors asking me if I wanted to fill out incident reports-which I did.  Why?  Because I had a feeling that all of this was going to do something to me in the end-and I was right.

I hate writing down new passwords every few days because I don't remember the old ones-which I also wrote down.

I hate how my frustration level is so low now that I'm kindling-I mean, just don't fuck with me.

I thought I had enough problems with the "goodies" God left me from my bout with meningitis when I was an infant, but I guess He had more fun in store for me.

While some might say that I could have quit and looked for work somewhere else, I tried to look for employment somewhere else.

What's really fun is explaining to people my situation to people on the phone before I begin a discussion on whatever the matter is, and they're stupid enough to tell me to calm down after five minutes.

Hey, I warned them, and I told them that I don't mean to lose it, so fuck 'em.

I know I'm not the only one going through this, which is the reason why I wrote this article in the first place.

I'm just like you-only I haven't given up.

I'm unrepentantly rude to anyone who tells me to calm down after I explain my neurosituation with them.  The way I see it, they have already judged me, so I figure I have nothing to lose by standing up for myself and by being a dick to them.  Why?  Because for most of my life, I had been told that my neurosituation was a liberal excuse.

It's happened to you, as well.  I'm quite sure of that; the accusations, the name-calling, the castigation.  This columnist sympathizes with your plight.  Believe me, you don't have to respect anyone who neither gives you the benefit of the doubt nor is willing to make accommodate your needs.

Just do what I do for fun-laugh at Iraq vets who were stupid enough to drive over bombs.  That situation was totally avoidable by refusing to be a sucker for military service.  Your situation, on the other hand, was a cruel hand deal by the Fates.

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