I am a a wife and a work at home mother.  I did not choose to work at home, but I had to, due to a car accident in 2006 that effected me for the rest of my life.  This accident caused me to live with chronic pain, 24/7.  I still have life in me, as we all do and I will work, until my body will not work no more. 

I feel so much pain, when I sit in this chair, at my computer, just to make enough money each week, just to put food on the table.  My husband cannot change jobs, to make a better wage, due to the medical insurance he has through his employer, no other medical insurance company will accept me, because I have prior existence of medical problems that are too severe for them to take a chance on taking care of costs that are almost too much for us to pay our co-pays now, which I have to take away from our grocery money, just to see a doctor.

I have been turned down for social security benefits, due to my physical being not being severe enough, but I have already worked and paid this in.  I am still fighting that.  I only have one more chance to get it, then it passes on to a federal level, which they know, I cannot afford.  Hopefully, this last time I stand before them, they will see how my medical condition has deterioated, since first asking for what is rightly mine and they will have the compassion they should have towards everyone, including me, that they will give me what is justly mine to have.

I have now decided to join, what seems to be an excellent place to start, to make state and federal officials to realize what this pain has costed me and thousands of other individuals, not only financially and physically,  but emotionally and mentally as well.

I want to be an advocate of anyone that is dealing with chronic pain, as well as myself, that deal with this night and day.

I have left something below that describes what I feel with every fiber of my being, something that I fight in wake state as well as sleep.  I want everyone to know, present and in the future, what our lives are like in detail, with every waking moment that we breathe.  Not only the pain, but the loneliness, the isolation and the very things that others take for granted.

We, the people that walk this earth in pain, stand alone in our fight for our very normal existence.  This is our story, our feelings and what we do not choose to deal with, but what we have been dealt.

I perceive somewhere within my soul a troublesome wind that exhales without contentment,
A terrible irritant that I cannot dictate.

Each day I strife to contain this, but to no avail,
It will not stop.

I will fight the battle with all my might and strength even though my strength, at time,
is debilitated and subsiding.

The representation of defeat is not there but it falters, lacking the potential of clarity to behold.

My memory is a memory, sometimes older than my age,
It inhales to try to pillage what I have of the years I have paved.

I must abide to retrieve, to resist, to hold close and to protect it from the monster
that tries to grasp it and pull it from my heart,
But my fight is not yet accomplished so I will decimate it ... and obtain what is mine.

The bite and sting of its venom is powerful, but my struggle to put it in the recesses of its flaccidness,
I will do, because I have much to stand in front of to preserve it from crushing my resistance.

I know the opposing forces are strong, but the victory will be mine.
It will not take me down where I cannot liege.

My litany in pain will restore all that I recognize and express
of commitment to conquer the abnormal form that tries to secretly surpass my weapon of might.

At times, the carnage it induces, the energy it absorbs from my flesh,
will not dictate my decree of survival, nor will it conclude the parable of my existence.

The whisper of distress, initiates the exterior of a language I do not speak,
taught only to the beast that wreaks havoc on the shape of my torture.

At the beginning of the conflict of command to the conclusion of this powerful reign,
the extermination will leave no stone unturned,
searching for the void of decision of which indication to possess.

Knowledge is the rebuttal to refute its dominion over the infirmity
that spews forth from the sheathing of its viscera.

The harvested summons of it concurrence I will eradicate to my own stand,
till the future of my permanence is eternal.