Three years ago, I left South Carolina, hoping for a better life in Oregon, propelled by the Kossacks, Class of ‘15, who earned my deepest undying gratitude and restored my faith in human nature with their generosity. A lot has happened since then. But I am undeniably better off, in many ways. You may recall my main goal was better health care, which would have been quite simple to achieve since in SC I had no health care whatsoever. And toward this goal I have succeeded 100%. I now have Oregon’s expanded Medicaid, Oregon Health Plan. It is the best health insurance I’ve ever had, and I’ve had professional jobs. It’s the insurance everyone should have. It covers nearly everything and there are zero co-pays. I choose my doctors, I don’t have to wait unreasonable times, and it’s simple for me. The only drawback is that I have to stay poor, within the income limits. To do otherwise would require me to work much more than I am capable of at this time. Oregon Health Plan is excellent.
That’s s good thing, because I am technically disabled. I have Asperger’s, but that’s my superpower. Depression and anxiety are my disabling factors, along with increasingly, the arthritis in my spine. So even with unlimited medical care available to me, I still have difficulty accessing it. Luckily, I have an excellent mental health center where I get counseling, psychiatric services, and access to other stuff like yoga and groups. I did have minimalist mental health care back in South Carolina, but I never made progress like I have in the past three years. My counselor’s warmth and acceptance, as well as the expertise of the psychiatric nurse practitioner who prescribes for me, have allowed me to make remarkable progress towards living a full life.
I have a job that pays a living wage, and that I enjoy. I’m a home care worker for the disabled, so I’m not using my master’s in counseling, but I am starting to think about exploring more opportunities in that direction. At any rate I am working regularly, although shit always seems to happen. I try so hard, and yet landlords keep my deposits, elderly clients become unmanageable unpredictably and have to be replaced, and roommates’ exes steal my mail so I don’t get paid on time. And so, I have to keep asking strangers for help and friends for patience. But someday very soon I will have worked my way out of that, because now I’m getting in touch with my personal power. And I have a lot of that. It is formidable. It is indefatigable. It is mine.
I also have friends, both here and IRL, and that has historically been very difficult to nonexistent for me. My best friend is what sociologists call a “connector”—she is a person who can’t help but bring others together. Because of her, I have access to social opportunities, and lately I have been getting out more. And it’s been wonderful. I have been dancing, y’all. Also, I have noticed that my mental jukebox is back up and running, providing a soundtrack for my life that makes me wonder, when did that stop? why didn’t I notice?
But that doesn’t matter now, babies. Because now we are going forward and we are not looking back. I have punished myself enough. I have suffered enough. It’s time to live the rest of my life. I don’t know what that will look like. I will always carry these sorrows with me. But I am ready, if I dare ask the Goddess so much, to be happy.