You’re not sick enough.

I was hoping to write a follow up to my road trip article for this week, but I find myself in need of processing some intense anger and sadness over my rejection letter for long-term disability assistance.

It isn’t the rejection in itself that is the source of my emotions, but the reasons behind it. I would like to share those with you now, but I want to first note that I am not looking for any advice or pity from my readers. I am sharing this story because it is healing for me to process the thoughts out loud, and because I know there are others out there who may have similar experiences. Also, I want anyone who works in insurance to understand the effects your words have on those you are assessing. I am convinced that there is no compassion training in these positions, which there should be.

Here are the reasons given, my reactions, and my interpretations of them:

REASON #1: You are still trying to get pregnant.

Reaction: This is unbearably painful to read. As if trying to get pregnant has been a happy-go-lucky-fun-time experience for my husband and I. Between the many failed attempts over the past year and a half, the physical pain of intercourse on my aching body, and the fear of actually succeeding and having to carry a fetus to term, this has been anything but “fun” or “easy”. How my decision to continue trying to conceive has any affect on my ability to work is beyond my ability to comprehend.

Interpretation: If you are disabled, you cannot (and should not) start a family. You must be alone in your suffering.

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REASON #2: You are writing, involved in crafts, and did a course for 2 hours a week for 10 weeks back in September.

Reaction: Writing is my therapy. Creativity is my therapy. The course work was therapy. I participated in a leadership course as an attempt to stay involved with my employer in some small way. 2 hours a week was a great challenge for me, but I did it, and I was proud of my accomplishment.

Interpretation: If you are disabled, you cannot participate in any creative endeavours, pursue any interests outside of work, or attempt to educate yourself.

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REASON #3: You recently applied to a new position which you thought might be a better fit for yourself.

Reaction: While fighting through the despair, guilt, and shame of not being able to perform my duties at work, I went in search of other potential careers that might be better suited to my condition. I would not have been able to accept the position had I even received a call back. It was my attempt to find purpose again during a confusing time. It did not help.

Interpretation: If you are disabled, you must only try to return to your base position and not attempt to find other, more suitable or more fulfilling employment.

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REASON #4: You had a breakthrough with psilocybin treatment, and you’re not as depressed or upset by the pain.

Reaction: The psilocybin treatment was indeed a breakthrough. I could not get myself off the floor some days because of the hopelessness that I felt that the pain would never cease. It helped me see that I can still find joy in life even while in pain. I am grateful for the experience, though the effects were not permanent nor all encompassing, and only one part of a large process of healing.

Interpretation: If you are disabled, you must be in total agony at all times. You must not feel hopeful or find joy in life. You must remain a victim to your disability.

Logic is lost on me

I know in my logical brain that these are reasons given by an insurance company that has as its goal to avoid payment at all costs. They are, after all, a business first. The assessors are looking for holes in my application and not attacking me as a person. This logic is lost on my emotional self. Instead, I am immediately returned to past traumas of being dismissed by trusted medical professionals telling me “there’s nothing wrong with you”, by peers telling me “I’m in pain, but I can do it, why can’t you?”, by family telling me to “walk it off”.

I am unsure of what steps to take next, but I have a solid support system that will help guide me through the process. I am grateful for the support of my husband in particular, who I am now asking to be present at all of my doctors appointments and meetings with insurance providers. It is difficult for me to absorb the incredible amount of information that they give and ask of you, not to mention I am often too overwhelmed to ask any questions and leave with incomplete information.

My heart goes out to those that are not as privileged or fortunate as I to have a support system in place. I’ve thought about how different this journey would have been had I still been a single person living on my own in a job that had no sick time benefits. No one should have to navigate pain or trauma on their own. No one.