Tomorrow

The facts are the facts: I do not deal with stress well. Tomorrow is my disability hearing and, as a result, I have been unable to partake in my daily routines this entire week.

There's nothing I can do to prepare for tomorrow's event and there is not much that I can even do tomorrow. I know that worrying does nothing to serve me, but I seem thoroughly unable to stop myself.

This is it.

And along with it a lot of other things will either fall into place or fall apart.

I will say honestly in this moment that I am terrified. I have been told that one way or another a decision must be made by the end of this month since I applied in May 2011. The terror comes from the fact that all of my medical records have been turned over and every single fact that can be proven about my conditions are in the hands of the judge, but I am still only 36 years (about to be 37) and that is extremely young to be stepping out of the workforce. I am still living in a world where people take advantage of the system and, therefore, cast doubt into the minds of those with my fate in their hands. I still have two conditions that leave no physical resonance for laymen to see and I have learned how to smile through the pain.

I don't know if my judge continues to debate over my case because she does not trust my intention, or if it is because she is wary of setting a precedence concerning my rare disease. I don't know what she needs to hear, see or understand in order to make her decision.

Here is what I do know:

• I know I love to work. I would not keep a blog if I did not. I love to be connected with other people and to have "assignments" that need to be done to the best of my ability to either serve or inform others.
• I know my body will not allow me to work. In the two years since I applied for disability support I, of course, have doubted whether or not I need this support. Every time the question arises, symptoms come raging back in to remind me of one fact: "Disability does not mean death." In other words, I should not feel guilty about the "good days" that I have - to be on disability doesn't mean that I should be living in a hospital. These are the facts: I am not well enough, consistently enough to be employable. (Those of you who have stuck around long enough here at Rivera Runs Through It can attest to my inconsistency - and that's with the ability to schedule posts ahead of time!)
• I know this doesn't have to be forever. Getting disability benefits does not mean that I have to give up on the prospect of getting better, of healing, of even someday being cured. This is not a life sentence. It is the help I need to heal myself. I can re-enter the workforce someday once I find the treatments (or cures) that ensure that the good days out number the bad. 
• I know that there are more people than I possibly even realize that are praying for me right now and I couldn't be more grateful.
• I know that whatever the decision ends up being, I will be okay... I will make sure of it. Even if I have to flip my life upside down.

Tomorrow, September 12, 2013 at 10:30 am, is my disability hearing. Tomorrow I will have to live in the misery where every second I have to remind myself how sick I am instead of focusing on the wonderful in-betweens that keep me smiling. Tomorrow, I pray, will be the end to this chapter.