June 25, 2011
Ellira's Room: A Letter to the Governer
A Letter to the Governer
You have officially made me abhore being a Wisconsonite. You are an embarrassment to our state and almost everyone in my family is moving because of your "changes". Your lack of empathy for the sick and feeble is close to that of Hitler in WWII. The decisions you are making regarding Social Security, Disability and tax raises against the most poor who need every dollar available to put back into the economy to end our Modern Era Depression. How you treat the old and sick is similar to his test programs before he began genocide. Instead, you are making Wisco-cide. I agree that programs need to be adjusted - YES. Do we blame people who gave it everything they had (many of whom get sick right at the end of their career leaving them 5 or 10 years from their retirement package) yet because they do not have children, the funds that they paid their taxes to pushes them aside because this one has kids and has never worked a day in her life.
Did you ever stop to think that most people on disability do not want to be? I sure don't. Having my back broke in 7 places, working 30+ hours too many with fibromyalgia for years, complications from fibromyalgia causing many surgeries and some cancer. I am 28, starting menopause and in complete pain every time I move. I am looking for a bonus of living on less than $1,000 and told I have to have a child in order to survive on the system - being told this by State workers - and I am being told I choose this life over making 2.5 times that in the real world? Are you insane?
I do not like being labeled and condemned when I hand over my insurance card. I do not like being told that I "look" healthy by people who are not doctors. And the doctors! Poking and prodding and testing and drugging beyond irritation by over 20 in the last 3 years - all of which agree that I need to stay home seen as they have me drugged, still in pain and miserable. So rather than going work 40+ hours a week to the high-paced insurance agencies, mastering my craft, opening my own agency before I was 30 - gone. Gone with the straw that broke the camels back and dropped me in this lovely oasis in the Real World Desert. I cannot stand being away from work and struggling to figure out what and how to move on with my life. I do not like being told to have a baby by the foodstamp people when I am infertile and just suffered another miscarriage because I am worth $30 NOT pregnant and $300+ if I am pregnant. And why do they have all those kids again?
Your standards are weak, your plan weaker, your integrity - translucent. I am ashamed that someone like you represents someone one like me. My life is hard and I try to do my best to support myself without the yearly raises those on social security are granted. We don't get a discount on gas, even though we travel the least. We don't get a discount on clothes, even though we can't afford all but new underwear. We can't afford entertainment, besides why does someone who has lost their morale need to be cheered up. We don't get to choose the doctors as they all prescribe medicines that kill.
Why am I not at work? Because I'm not allowed. I cannot concentrate or more simply, sit at the desk, for long periods of time due to drugs that have worse side effects and more latency than marijuana - even though that is natural and not nearly as intoxicating or addictive as Morphine - the Granny Killer. Everyone who works in a nursing home or has paid attention to what the state does to the elderly who do not have private insurance - they give them loads of mophine and heart medication. Why? Because morphine distresses and eventually shuts down the heart and lungs and another grama in the home, only having the state check of $300 to pay the home who otherwise charges $5,000 dies in her sleep. They turned me into the granny. My life is changing. Will I figure it out? Yes. Can I afford to miss one step, which is so stressful it keeps me from sleeping, ergo healing to go back to work. Most of my time is spent on the phone arguing with the government and people like landlords who regularly abuse the benefits and charity offered to the disabled, forcing those who could otherwise make it to request more government and charitable funds.
We need to have a serious talk Mr. Governor. You really need to examine your own workers and CREATE, INVENT, ENLIGHTEN us with new ideas, new concepts. I have my own and I will be heard when I am finished. But until then you represent me. I am not your drone. Your business is to take care of people through representation - not making people take care of your business because you represent them. Your job is to keep up happy. Our job is to pay our taxes so that you get paid to do that and to do things in a reasonable, legal, prudent manner. You are taxing the wrong people, you are insulting the wrong people, and you work with no one.
Thank you for your time Comrade Walker. I am glad to be apart of this neo-Communist state you just created.
Most heartily sincere,
Miss Courtney E. McMillan
June 06, 2010
True Story (02-02-09)
Is it at birth?
Is it when the innocense of childhood is lost?
Is it when the reality of adulthood is discovered?
At what point do we begin?
Christian fundamentalists believe at conception.
But I believe that life and Life are two separate things.
I believe my life began at five.
That is when I started realizing how fucked up shit really is.
Sleep (02-06-09)
The nightmares haunt me and the demons chatter in my mind
I stare into the candle flame hoping my soul will find solace
A thought that will guide me to my pillow - a divine intervention
My thoughts turn to you and I am no longer in fear of the night
I close my eyes, suddenly enclosed by your arms and I am safe
Your hushed voice whispers to my soul and I am calm
The scent of your essence lingers in my memory
I am comforted and I am at peace.
My eyes close and I dream of you.
Modern Day Cowboy (05-24-10)
I fell in love with a modern day cowboy.
The sadness of life shows in his ever changing sea eyes & is hidden by his laugh.,
He can brighten a day with his half crooked smile.
He's a roughneck by trade & gentle by nature
He sweats beads of tears as he works & plays I never know which with his wicked, wicked ways.
His body worn & broken, His soul beaten from long ago fights.
His love is emmense, but only in memory does it live long
If you aren't careful, it disappears with him at dawn.
He rides in & rides out on a steed made of steel
He is a stallion that cannot tamed, for him captivity will kill.
My modern day cowboy, with a heart painted blue
His spirit watered down with whiskey & women
If he lets his feelings show they will break him, he knows
He lassowed my heart & keeps it close to his
A secret we share, but everyone knows.
He is a dying star & the sky is his stage.
He is as free as an eagle, but he keeps himself in a cage.
He howls like the wolf upon my breast, an homage to him yet he pretends not to know.
He fears none but his own heart & is wise of the world
I hope that down deep I am placed high above the rest.
He thinks I love him for his flesh, In reality its his soul
I hope & I pray I know him in the life after this
He & his stallion will cross me past Haydes way.
His word his is honor and his honor his way.
I wasn't the first, I won't be the last.
In my heart, my modern day cowboy rides above the rest.
He is a man of men, a lover of lovers
Through the heartache & fear, he protects me from the world.
While I see a man, he sees a beast.
I love him through & through, til the bittersweet end.
My Modern Day Cowboy, I will love you until then.
White Blanket (12 - 08 - 08)
Alone (11-28-08)
Beautiful Display (11-26-08)
Sins of Our Parents (12-04-09)
A Heaven Above Heaven (12-13-08)
Moving On - Courtney Ellira McMillan (02-01-09)
The Reveal...
May 22, 2010
Hello Again!
I was watching 'My Sister's Keeper' tonight and it got me thinking. So much talk of illness and death and whatnot. I looked over at my kitchen table and all that is on it are a few bags of pills (and a whole basket of unused refills), some laxatives, a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka (and yes, my teeth do NOT come out - to those of you who know the story laugh at will).
Then I started thinking about my little girl and how she would have been twelve this December. What would I have done with her? How would I be dealing with a girl getting ready for middle school, boys, drugs and alcohol while dealing with my own infirmity? People always say that God knows best or the body gets rid of the babies that would be born sick or some sort of half-assed consolable comment that could only come from one that did not suffer the loss of an unborn child. Since her I've had two more... Enough to make me think that I am incapable that is for sure.
I have started to think of the word console... I know it means an attempt to make one feel better, but honestly - is it a way to Con the Soul? I keep thinking that as time passes on this sadness will pass with it. But it doesn't. It sits deep inside my soul, a black hole that swallows everything around it. I keep thinking how can I miss someone who never was. Then I see the suffering of parents who have lost this precious life that they had the miraculous chance to raise and nuture and the neglect of those who do not understand what gift they have been given. It makes me wonder what is worse, me grieving for something that almost was, a parent losing their true gift from above or the parent that knows nothing of what they have to lose?
I guess today I am having a pity party... woe is me and all that other shit, right? It's how people make you feel when you are still sad years and years after it happens. I watch my friends with their children, how beautiful it is. I wonder will I ever be able to share in that party. Most of the time I just think that my invitation was lost in the mail.
On the bright side, I only have to worry about getting well... On the flip side, it isn't what I think about most of the time. Well, as my favourite leading lady says, "I'll worry about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day!"
And with that, I bid farewell.