Bureaucratic Hell – Southern Style

I have been just incredibly sick the last couple of days and the number of things that could all go wrong at once has been a far higher number than one might rationally expect.

I can’t drive, so I can’t shop as my partner is working nonstop, but then I can’t buy food as I have no money due to a set of bureaucratic hangups cutting off my food stamp access and messing with my sole income – my autism disability money, but hey, I could not eat it if I did have it as both my allergy meds and epipen scripts have expired and can’t be renewed unless I can go see the doctor in Asheville with $250 in hand and my partner driving the car. Return to beginning of looped sentence here – what the fuck? Am I living in some French absurdist drama?

Oh yes, and I have the flu. Thank you, bro.

What I need and what does not seem to exist is an advocate to help me sort all of this shit out and believe me I’ve looked.I’ve tried churches, advocacy groups, various aid websites and agencies, my doctors, my therapists, and even the media.

I told my partner today that I think the whole social services system is actually designed to keep anyone from getting  ever actually getting any service.

One of the symptoms of my Asperger’s is dyscalculia – think dyslexia but with numbers instead of words.

I can’t do basic math but I am expected to fill out a seven page budget form FOR my caseworker telling her how much aid she should give me…

…while she what? Sleeps in her cubicle? Eats doughnuts? Surfs Facebook and Boredbutton.com? What exactly?

I can’t add > so I can’t work > so I need monetary and fnancial aid > so I must fill out several pages of calculations > whilst providing documentation that I can’t add> so I can’t work…

Hmmm, another recursive loop.

I actually wonder about those seeking aid due to dyslexia or illiteracy. My paperwork is in surplus of five hundred pages at this point and I still don’t even know my caseworker’s (assumed/alleged) name.

And the woman I was given as a contact will no longer return my calls because she referred me to the Federal offices who won’t even review my case because I don’t qualify and so got bounced back to the state.

The Federal woman won’t even talk to me anymore because my well meaning partner told her he was my guardian and I am now not actually legally entitled to speak for myself…it is a security breach for me to have my own information.

And just to make things more fun, I need a credit report I can’t get because the agency’s security question is how much is my home loan and apparently that I don’t have one – can’t legally qualify for one and thus need a credit report to report ID theft – is not a doable answer. That agency literally does not have a way to talk to a human. LITERALLY. The phone number is a robot that offers you two options (ask a question about your credit report and requires a report number, or request a credit report and asks the security question) and then hangs up on you, the webpage requires the security question and has a contact page that links you to a page with the phone number that hangs up on you and a snail mail address.

The snail mail requires five color copies of various ID cards and I discovered today that it is ILLEGAL in SC to make color copies of ID due to ID theft issues.

I’d bang my head on my desk but the desk is glass…and my therapist says one more suicidal word or act out of me (such as driving my face into a glass desk) will result in committal.

Do you think that if got committed someone might help me sort that crap out? If so it would be absolutely worth a face full of glass.

If anyone has any advice on ANY of this please feel free to comment.


One thought on “Bureaucratic Hell – Southern Style

  1. I could have written this same posting – with slightly different facts – but the same issues/problems you are facing. I, too, need help that I can’t seem to get — primarily because I am still *aware* that I need help. Because I know enough to go the the bathroom when I need to go, I don’t qualify for home health care. If I wandered around in circles and peed myself outside the door of the bathroom I might qualify– unless they figure out some other reason to disqualify me….


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