Being disabled doesn’t end at the dysfunction of that meat sack we call a body. Oh, no. It infects your wallet as well. #Broke #Disability #SocialSecurity #money #ChronicIllnessEDS #ChronicIllness #IrritableBowelSyndromeIBS I will stand up and not be ashamed and admit I am a frequent patron of food banks in my community. We have a system of food banks that the government donates to as well as corporations and individuals. When you go the time, you take in your information on your household and your ID, mail from current residence (usually a bill with your name and address is requested), and you arrive.
You are there for help. Shit got real and the frig got bare. Here you are. However, as someone with #Gluten sensitivities, (different than allergies but can really increase the activity of Irritable Bowel Syndrome) I will say it is a double edged sword. I become overwhelmed at the generosity of others to help and feed my family and I simultaneously feel like an ungrateful pig if I dare to utter “You can keep that, I can’t eat it. I have special dietary restrictions.” No dairy. No gluten. Diabetic. No red meat. You get the picture. Then they roll out a big box and say your number. There she sits. That big ass three pound block of government cheese. You know you nor your daughter can’t eat it. With a vast range of reactions to dairy, between her milk protein allergy and my lactose toots, you need to give it back to someone who doesn’t have those problems. Then you think again about the likelihood they will have vegan cheese and the likelihood you’ll be wishing you’d taken it when the rest of the food you “can have” is gone and you keep the damn cheese.
I’ve had half a grilled cheese sandwich on plain white bread. My stomach is so blown up, I am having pain when I sigh... under my ribs (that sublex #EhlersDanlosSyndrome (partially dislocate) so easily) has constant pressure pushing outward. I am miserable, but my fat ass ain’t hungry!
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