When I initially received news that I was getting removed from Social Security Disability, for over a week, my complete reaction was a boost in confidence, utter gladness. I have been doing really well, or up to then I had been, meditating and keeping pretty level, not impulsively doing much, so when I read in the letter that my Doctor said my condition no longer prevents me from doing gainful work. That I "can communicate with others, act in my best interest, and perform ordinary activities." I took this news as glad tidings, concluded that I am better now, and began researching two education oriented jobs in Washington DC, because I was certain I could get either job if I put myself to it.

I am Beautiful Mind. That is the best explanation I have heard of my illness and why I have been able to accomplish (over 12 years) the triumphant achievement of graduating college with a 3.17. The brilliant mathematician featured in the movie A Beautiful Mind has my same diagnosis, which allowed him to achieve great things, but to his death in 2015, this man did live a volatile harrowing existence too. It is not known exactly what illness Nash suffered, according to Psychology Today, and in his lifetime he was said to be schizophrenic, but his condition feels the same as mine, when I think about it. Though my diagnosis is schizoaffective, I do wonder if that is what he would have been called in a different era. Regardless, thinking about his illness seems a good way to explain the severity and diversity of my abilities and inabilities.

About a week after I received the notice from Social Security, I had an awakening moment that a family member says was me being more honest with myself than he had ever seen. I realized that the fact that I have quit over 100 things in the past two decades of my diagnosis, with over 50 of those actions being vocational, means in itself that working enough to survive would for me be an impossible challenge at this point in my life. So my tactic was to write the doctor a 2 page letter with a 2 page list of quitting attached to it, and send it in the mail to him begging he reconsider my sentence.

According to Legal Aid, if a doctor says I am capable and well, I don't stand a chance in hell at continuing with disability, which is why I decided to go about it this way, and beg mercy of the doctor, hoping my life does not unravel in the meantime. When my longest therapist spoke of my condition the biggest word that stood out to me was always "impulse" and it is true I struggle with impulses. They may not be conventional urges, and often are vocational pursuits. In the recent past I have dug on the internet for job openings that often are away from here, which moving and starting a new job is not something I can handle, or I find local opportunities that don't make a bit of sense for me as a person, like working in a gas station (which lasted a week) or driving train workers (which lasted one week.)

I had been going to see the doctor for 15 minutes every 3 months and accidentally presenting a positive veneer because I wanted to improve in my condition and I felt that putting on my nicest clothes that day and acting as polite as possible would possibly earn me improved success. Not one segment of my being wanted my doctor to give me more medicine, so I put the best foot forward I possibly could, not realizing that in positively presenting myself I might be depleting myself of a vital medication, my stability inducing, aptly named "security."

Now, in this blog, for weeks, I have not wanted to bring up much about what is wrong about my moods and thoughts or where they conjoin, my impulses. Just like in with the doctor, I want to present the best possible image of me in this public realm. But truth carries a heavy significance, and I have to honestly express how things are, and the answer is not good.

The very act of seeking employment is an impulse in my life. Maybe for some people this reads as a statement of privilege, but no, I have a true disability and impulse is its key, and I am witnessing effects in my life, my relationships, and my stability. Now I must prove that I am unwell, and I am worried it is contrived, and I have an unstable living arrangement especially when it comes to the long term and I am worried I will not have a home, so I am seeking jobs that all are unrealistic, and then I catch my impulse and cancel applications, again and again.

Presidential candidate Andrew Yang has this Universal Basic Income, and how he talks about it makes me think of the grim realities of my own life, that there is a psychological improvement by given by having a token 750 dollars per month in my case, that gives security. I don't agree with Yang on a main aspect of his UBI plan, which is to give all Americans equally 1000 per month, and not offer additional Social Security. It is as if he doesn't understand the necessity of disability for so many of our stability. Zooming in, I don't think most Americans understand the necessity of Disability in achieving stability, especially for people with mental illness.

I want to keep an even keel, I want my family not to have to suffer my trying to work when I am not ready and the mental implications for each person there. I am terrified of losing disability. I know now that it is bad news for me to lose it, that it is necessary for my health in a way like my medicine or therapy. It is not advised that patients quit taking medication when they improve or can pass as normal for 15 minutes every third month, and I wish my doctor understood that, and notified social security that I am not able to work after all.

As it is things look pretty scary.