I’m always the exception. You know, “the exception to the rule.” The standout lone ranger who’s on one of two extreme ends — either too cool for school or disgusting/weird/sad. Sometimes both.
(There are a lot of clichés in that sentence.)
There’s a lot going on in this post. You might want to grab a chair and some coffee and maybe a blanket and pillow and a year’s worth of food. Because I am one hell of a lot of exceptions.
Like, whenever one of my ‘friends’ posts something on social media about how grimy poor people are. Okay, not all poor people — only those who receive any help whatsoever from the government. These are usually the same types of people who don’t realize they, or their idols, in some way also receive government assistance, even on the smallest scale, but we won’t get into that.
So I try to argue that no, not all welfare/foodstamps/medicaid/etc. recipients are con-artists, and yes I can prove that because I personally have been on all three of the above plus got free daycare and financial aid. And I didn’t lie about anything or take more than I needed and waited until I was seriously about to die before I even applied and was working my ass off in school to better my life so I wouldn’t need to be on welfare anymore, and that I still own expensive things because excuse me if I don’t find the need to pawn off all of my stuff — especially really cool gadgets that were gifts from my father or grandparents or close friend specifically to provide me with the service the items advertise.
But of course those ‘friends’ tell me I’m the exception and most people really do take advantage of the system.
I’m not denying that there are some people who lie and cheat their way into being lazy and mooching off the government. Not one bit. I have dealt with these people on my visits to the welfare office. But, show me the statistics that I am the exception (here are some that say I’m not). Because I find it hard to believe when so many other people are standing up to share nearly the same story as mine.
Like that time I was pregnant and my doctor, completely out of the blue, informed me that “You know all those movies and TV shows that show pregnant women giving birth in cabs and stuff? Well, that doesn’t happen. Labor is a lot longer than that, so you don’t have to worry about that. Don’t rush immediately to the hospital — you’ll have time.”
And then when I did go into labor and arrived at the hospital and was already 6cm dilated and shortly after got up to 10cm, the nurses were like “Why the hell didn’t you get here sooner?!” and I was like “Because I had my first contraction in my sleep at 1:30am and then went back to sleep thinking maybe I just had to poop and didn’t realize I was actually in labor until 2:30 and then tried to do all that shit I couldn’t remember and finally gave up around 3:30 and just came in and I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE TIME NOW GIVE ME MY DAMN EPIDURAL.”
But they didn’t give me the epidural, or any drugs whatsoever for that matter, because I was already too far along when I arrived. Which they knew immediately, but abstained from telling me until after I had given them all my necessary information and all the paperwork was complete.
So once the little brat (whom I adore) shot out of me and I wasn’t quite as murdery or delirious they came to me and said “Yeah, you know how Dr. Doofus told you not to rush to the hospital? Well, next time you’re pregnant and go into labor, GET HERE IMMEDIATELY, or you’ll probably have your baby on the toilet like you almost did this time. Because you are the exception.”
I’m a girl (kind of) and not only approve of, but commonly use the word ‘cunt’. ‘Nuff said.
I am the exception.
I used to do a lot of drugs. Now I don’t.
Personally, I don’t know why people think I’m the exception. Out of the people I know who once had a drug problem, about half of them are successful in their recovery and half are not. Neither is the majority.
I meet people every day who are incredibly successful in their lives and later find out they used to do drugs. Maybe if there wasn’t such a horrible stigma attached to previous drug use, those who have become successful would be more willing to be open about their past, and we wouldn’t be considered the exception anymore.
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I started this post a long time ago and now I don’t really remember where I was going with it.
But I think the point is, maybe I’m not the exception. Maybe you’ve just been conditioned to believe I am.
But either way, stop ostracising me even more than society already does.
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