Disability benefits: benefitting more than just the disabled.

A freelancer since age 14, I hustled for just about every dollar I got.

(I also had white, able, thin, pretty, educated privelige on my side.)

So it’s been a smack to my ego to consider applying for SSDI Benefits.

My last 2 hour work session was a glory ride—a creative high with an end product I couldn’t be more proud of.

It crashed me for 3 weeks straight. 3 weeks of nasty, flaring pain.

Losing work is a loss unto itself—fodder for another post. But the idea that I should be “supported” by the government has also been a hard pill to swallow.

If I were able, why would I want to pay into a system that paid for disabled people to…exist? Why would I care about disability system reform?

I guess, a sense of vague humanity? Kindness?

Maybe mixed in with a healthy suspicion and resentment over how disabled they really were, if I’m honest?

But today, I thought of another reason. One that hits a little closer to home for most healthyish people:

Because you might be next, buddy.

Disability is the only minority you can just stumble into at any time. Disability never a choice*, and despite prevailing wisdom, it’s rarely a result, of choices, either. Here’s how it works: One day, you’re not disabled. And then, you are.

You’re actually cliche enough to get hit by the bus. You get long Covid. You get breast cancer. You develop ALS.

Yeah, but probably not me, you might think. Okay, then, maybe not you, but your spouse. One of your kids. Someone you feel responsible for.

And then what?

Disabled benefits are usually a poverty proposition. The system is rigged against dynamic disabilities, so people who can work temporarily when they’re not flaring can’t usually “earn ahead.” Benefits are extraordinarily difficult to get. Most cases take several years and many denials, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in doctors appointments and lawyers to gather proof.

It’s a horrible system, but it is a system. It is…something. A small safeguard against starving in the streets—if you can qualify.

So sometimes, I think we have to consider ourselves. Would I like this for myself and my family, in the likely event one of us becomes disabled?

I bet you would.

So yes, it’s awkward to consider being on the “receiving” end. To “benefit.” To be the cautionary tale for all the ableds who aren’t disabled yet, the reminder of “there but for the grace of God go I.”

It’s also pretty fucked up that I have to spend so many hours suffering, so many hours managing medical care, so many hours educating and advocating and trying to make even the tiniest of change. Changes that benefit more people than just my disabled ass—better healthcare for me is better healthcare for everyone. Better access for me means more diversity for everyone.

So my disability benefits? Those would be for everyone, too. Because it’s not really about who pays and who cashes out. It’s about knowing that no matter where you land on the health spectrum that day, there will be support available to you.