The Fire Part 7: Loose Ends

I guess the first thing that I'll let you know is that when I moved back to the city nine months after the fire I did get an apartment but it is a basement apartment. If I ever do live on an upper floor again I'm getting one of those rope ladders. I'm renting from the same landlord who owned the building that burned down. He is a really nice guy and has been a big help these past eleven years. I am lucky because I get housing assistance and I live in one of the nicest parts of town and not the projects.

I turned twenty-five two months before the fire. I was really surprised when this happened and the weirdest thought crossed my mind. I didn't expect to live this long. I have no idea where that thought came from but when I think about it now it gives me goose bumps. It's not that I thought that I would never age I just was surprised to still be around.

At the time of my twenty-fifth birthday I was waiting tables for a living. Unlike many of my peers at the time I was able to support myself and live on my own rather than having to move back in with my parents. I was pleased about this but I was not happy, I didn't want to wait tables for the rest of my life. On my birthday I decided that by the time I was thirty I would have accomplished at least one of three things: I would have a masters degree, I would be on a solid career path, or I would be in a position to start thinking about buying a house of my own. It's funny how life works out. I think John Lennon said it best though, "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans."

When I was on the burn unit my occupational therapist told me that my life was never going to be the same again and that I would now tend to think of things as before the fire and after the fire. I didn't want to hear it and I certainly didn't want to believe it. I wasn't going to let what happened to me on one night of my life change who I was. What I didn't realize at the time was that she was right and that you can't go through something like that and not have it change you.

What do I do now? I am a burden on society. When I was on the burn unit I said that I would be back to "normal" and working in five years. It took me five and a half years to finish with the surgeries. I have looked for jobs but I'd usually quit after three months or so. With the gap in my employment history the closest I ever got to a break was being told that while they thought that I'd be a great asset to the company they were going with someone who had more experience and if that person didn't work out they'd give me a call. I got a lot of that. I don't know if it was because they didn't want to flat out reject a "disabled" person or if they meant it.

Keep in mind that office work is about the only thing I can tolerate physically. I can't be on my feet all day because of my back. And can you just picture me working retail and having to deal with a difficult customer? It's an amusing thought but I would likely end up in jail as well as fired. I've put up with enough crap in life and I refuse to take it from other people, family and friends being the exceptions of course. While I have worked in an office before and I can operate a computer competently I don't have any of the certifications that employers look for and the thought of going back to school doesn't appeal to me.

Then there is the whole Social Security/Medicare/Medicaid problem. You’d think that they would want to make it easy to get off of welfare and back to work. Yes, there is Vocational Rehabilitation but it is a joke and about as much help as a... It's so useless I can't even come up with a metaphor. There are programs but they are confusing and when you ask for answers you'll get three different answers from three different people. The most honest person I ever talked to at Social Security simply said, "I don't know."

I'm scared you see. I need my medical coverage especially for my prescriptions. I don't know if I will ever be able to work full time again (I’m going to start out part time and see how it goes) but if can work full time not many employers have healthcare coverage. Even if I did find a job that had health care coverage I wonder if it would be affordable, adequate, and if they would even accept me because of my preexisting conditions.

I find it highly disturbing that I have better medical coverage than every working person I know. It's even worse to know that there are millions of people out there who are busting their ass every day and don't have any healthcare coverage at all. I can understand why single mothers stay on welfare. You can work a job that doesn't pay well and have inadequate healthcare (if any) or you can stay on welfare and make sure that your kids can see the doctor and eat well. Which would you choose?

I have always been thankful at the end of each month when money gets tight (I get $623 a month) that I only have myself to look after. I have gone hungry, I’ve had what I like to call peanut butter months, but I've never starved and there is just one mouth to feed. I did try to get on food stamps back when I first started living on my own again. After filling out the twenty-six pages the state of North Carolina requires to apply for the program I got twelve dollars in food stamps a month. I was told my car was worth too much money for me to qualify for more (the fact that I didn't have any kids hurt as well). I was driving an '84 Tercell at the time (1996). I did not reapply the next year. Some things are just not worth the hassle.

I used to kick the shit out of myself for taking so long to get my life together; I still do to some extent. A lot of therapy has helped me to realize that I really am doing the best that I can even though I'm not exactly happy with where I am. Actually it was a favorite Aunt of mine who got me to stop beating up on myself so much. She said, "I know what you have been through was horrible but seven years is long enough for anyone to recover."

Hearing someone say out loud what I'd been saying to myself for so long was a wakeup call. That bitch had no clue what I had to deal with or what I was going through. Who did she think she was! As horrible and hurtful as that was it probably was something I needed to hear at the time. It got me to back off of myself for a while. You can't exactly work if you are jumping at every sound and have the shakes because you are so anxious. I am not saying any of this to make excuses. I'm just trying to explain where I'm at.

For the longest time I was simply focused on getting a job, any job. Then someone mentioned that I should try and find something to do that I love. I couldn't think of anything. While I know that I am smart enough to be pretty much anything that I want to be I just didn't know what that was. When I started seeing Al my hypnotherapist he asked me what future I could envision. I said, "None." He then asked, "Ok, in your wildest dreams what do you see?" My silly answer was, "I win the lottery or come into a lot of money somehow, make sure my family is taken care of, and become a philanthropist. But we both know that's not going to happen."

It did strike me on the way home however that while I'll probably never be a philanthropist I could work for a charity. Not only would that be doing something that wouldn't feel like a complete waste of time but I had insight as to what it's like to need help and a charity would be more likely to understand the gap in my work history. My plan is to start volunteering at a charity (don't know which one yet) and get my name out there so that in the future I would have an "in" for a paying job. I hope to start this sometime in late September. I should be adjusted to my new medication regimen by then and know if it is working well enough for me. So far the change in my medications is going well although I've had a couple of rough days.

Despite all of my bitching and whining about the whole being on welfare/job thing I have it pretty damn good. I have a roof over my head and my apartment is much bigger and in a better part of town than the one I lost. My last apartment was an efficiency apartment with my bed doubling as a couch. I now have a spacious one bedroom apartment with actual furniture. Most everything in my apartment was given to me by friends, family, and even complete strangers. I have a reliable car and I live in a great location so I don’t have to travel far when I need something. A very good thing considering today’s gas prices.

Cindy asked me when I first started going to her for therapy how many friends I had lost because of what happened. I told her that I hadn't lost any and that I was drifting apart from many of my friends at the time of the fire but they had all rallied around me when the shit went down. Cindy was surprised because most friends run away from tragedies because they can't handle it. I wish I could say that we all still hang out but I have drifted apart from almost all of them. They are all married with small kids and careers. It's more my fault than theirs. While I am very happy for them I can't relate to their world. It also gets kind of old when you're asked what's new and all you can reply with is the new pill you're on or the last book you've read. I do still talk to my two closest friends but they live out of state.

I have a friend I hang out with in my building. She is a single mother and busy a lot but is an interesting person and fun to spend time with. We are not close but we have a good time when we're with each other. We have a standing date to watch Lost and Prison Break together each week during the regular season. It was so nice to see Wentworth Miller again last night and drool over him. There is also a firefighter who shows up once or twice a year to see how I'm doing. It is hard for me to make friends. Money is tight so going out is not an option and even though I check the weekly events paper I still haven’t found a group/activity that I want to join. God I sound like such a loser!

I do have a wonderful boyfriend that I have been seeing for about a year and a half now. We met on Match.com of all places. I had three beyond disastrous dates and decided to try again after taking a year off from the dating scene. I met them through personal ads. Don't ever go there people! The first day I posted my profile was the last day of his membership and when he was taking one last look around he found me. We emailed each other twice a day for two weeks and then met in a coffee shop for our first date. We are a pretty good match. We have enough in common to have similar interests but are different enough to bring variety to each other's life. He has no problem with my hands or my scars and has been more supportive than I could ever hope anyone would be about my whole being crazy thing.

So there you are, that's where I'm at in my life now. Despite some of the horrible days that I've endured lately I haven't wished that I had died that night in quite a while. Here's hoping that I never think it again. Not a fairy tale ending but I don't know anyone who has actually had one so I can't (ok shouldn't) complain.

I'd like to thank all of you for reading this. I would also like to thank all of you who have left comments and have contacted me through Fireflyfans.net. I am not a sappy person, in fact my cousin recently told me that I was about as sentimental as a pothole, but your words have been like gold to me and I truly mean that. You have brought tears to my eyes several times and your support and words of encouragement mean more than I can say. I hope you still stop by from time to time. I'm sure I'll have updates and as you know by now I always have plenty to say.

Below are current pictures of my hands. I took them yesterday with a very cheap mini-digital camera so the quality is not the best. It still hurts me to look at them but only once in a blue moon. I am used to them now (and happy to have them) and I guess the day that I finally started accepting how they looked was the day that I bought my first ring a few years ago.


This is a current picture of my left hand.


This is a current picture of my right hand.