Lair of the Lost Girl

So, I messed up my cut tag earlier. Today, I was celebrating a good day. As I mentioned, I had a good self-statement that I sent to my attorney, and nothing succeeds like success. I'm using RSO, a potent form of marijuana for pain control (NB: which is legal in the state of Washington), and it's helping, and having a honeymoon effect.

And someone said that "we need to write something about the big bad fugly bill, like, Bad Bad Leroy Brown.

It was like waking up. My creative brain could write an utterly obnoxious filk song to the tune of Jim Croce's hit.

I doubt the copyright notice is enforceable - it was a social experiment to see what would happen. I happen to think the tune is quite catchy.

Hey, folks.

I've finally had the overall desperation, that I've asked about witness statements we could collect - we, being my attorney and I.

I tried to write a powerful personal statement, saying "doctors, and lawyers, will read this, and each went to school to turn their mind into something special - they were a competent doctor or lawyer. And y'all wouldn't last a year, with what I have to deal with. Think of the humiliation, that I can barely care for myself, after having been a big fish, in my own tiny pool."

So there are things that someone could write about.
"I knew John, before 2010, and after 2010, and he's completely different," is good.
"John has an amazing brain AND
...I can only imagine how bad it is, to have lost that."
OR
...I can attest that he's sometimes just not the John I know."

That's good.

One doctor thought I was having a psychotic break, and cited, as evidence, that I said "Barnstead is a friend of spiders." If you were writing something else for me, and wanted to point out that "John Barnstead is a real person, and so is scifi author Spider Robinson, so saying one is the friend of the other is perfectly reasonable!" that wouldn't be bad.

Um. If I've ever reached out to you, and sounded crazy, but, in a relatively short order (but maybe a day or two), seemed not crazy - or, at least more stable, or more coherent, or whatever, that's good.

If you can say you've seen me have struggles with mental challenges you know I could handle, or, you've heard me talk about them, that's something you can report. If ten people say "he always talked about being so *tired* all the time," that's not proof I was tired, but it does mean I talked about it a whole lot.

If you've seen me have physical struggles, that's fine too. Have you ever seen me break into a huge sweat, like, I'll drench my t-shirt, wring sweat out of it? That's fine. Ever seen me spacy? That's great.

The reason I'm saying I'm disabled is, my neuro pain keeps scrambling my brain so much that I'm not just too tired, I'm no longer even *competent* to do my job, and I'm in too much pain to push a broom. So, any time where you've seen my brain falter badly, and you really wondered "how could he be that *stupid*?" well - if you can make that a fact based thing, "I saw him do X, which he wouldn't do normally, unless, as he says, his brain was misfiring. Because later, he could explain why X was so stupid...."

The timeline is short - my application is going in, in under a week.

Bill Gawne, I wish I could do more than just shout out to you, while I'm under this much stress, but I know you've seen me semi-crazy, then more rational, and, I know you can back me on Barnstead/Spider. I miss the hell out of you; you're one of the reasons the broken brain *hurts*, emotionally speaking (in addition to the neuro pain). Griffen, you too, m'friend. Too many others I can't think to name, or, if I start naming, I'll forget someone.

Thanks for being there if you can't help, and thanks for any help you can give.