Nov 23, 2019 | Long-Term Disability
Last Saturday there was another writeup on my continuing saga with Lincoln Financial Group. This time the article was published on Relation State, a blog run by a good, progressive-leaning friend of mine who wanted to assist me in my mission to warn people away from LFG and its products. Today I remind you: don’t be like Bob.
READ: Lincoln Financial Group Scams Cancer Patient
In a goodwill effort to reach a larger crowd, my friend shared the post on the Relation State Facebook page. For the most part, people were sympathetic. But there’s always that one guy, isn’t there? This time, the guy’s name was Bob.
Bob, bless his heart, seems to think he’s immune to the havoc a billion-dollar company like Lincoln Financial can wreak. He commented, probably without knowing I was in the audience, that whatever the insurance company had done, the fault was with me. “I got what I paid for,” and “I should’ve read the fine print,” he said.
It’s almost cute how Bob believes Lincoln Financial discloses their misdeeds in writing at all, let alone before a customer pays her premiums.
But some people, and I think it’s safe to assume Bob is one of them, cling to an oversimplified, conservative notion of capital-P, capital-R Personal Responsibility. They prefer believing they’re better and smarter than the rest of us over acknowledging that shit can happen to them too. Lincoln Financial Group counts on people like Bob to keep their secrets safe.
Bob’s comments reveal the crux of his personal philosophy:
his fortune isn’t fortune at all—it’s superior intelligence. By his logic, I’m just
gullible or stupid or both, and that’s the real crime here.
Despite the insults we attract from people who don’t get it,
it’s important for me and people like me to keep telling our stories. Why? Because
when we talk in generalities, the information doesn’t stick. The world stays
complacent. Someone else gets brain cancer and instead of accessing the safety
net she paid for, an insurance company records an immorally large profit, profiteering
doctors like Brian
Samuels and Lee Hartner
line their wallets, and a disabled woman with a brain tumor forgoes medicine
and racks up additional debt just to keep the lights on.
We can throw a wrench in the works, slow—maybe even halt—the
conveyor belt carrying our money to liars and racketeers.
But not if we’re content to be like Bob. Don’t be like Bob.
Nov 17, 2019 | Memoir
On the night of November 1, I couldn’t sleep. So I grabbed
my cell phone from my nightstand, thinking I’d play a mindless game until I
eventually crashed. Before I could open the game app, though, an email
notification popped up. I had a new message from Patreon. Normally, I’m excited
to acquire a new patron, but on that night my mouth turned dry and my heartbeat
became irregular. My large intestine seized and the acid in my stomach sloshed in
waves.
“New $1 Patron! Meet [Rodney]” the subject line read.
Yup. My ex-husband had signed up to read my memoir. Only he used his real name and his real email address to do it, not the pseudonym I’ve given him. I know he still stalks me online and don’t usually give it a second thought, but that night I started to fill with rage. It began in my toes and had worked itself up to about my collarbone before I recognized it for the resurfacing trauma it was.
Writing the memoir can also trigger such a response, but I’m aware of what I’m doing to myself and can mentally prepare to deal with the feelings before they morph into physical malady. Being triggered unexpectedly by someone else—the asshole ex no less—well, that required time to gather my wits.
In the middle of defending myself to myself in my head (don’t
pretend you don’t do it too), I stopped abruptly, letting the amateur therapist
in my brain take over.
“It’s my story to tell. If he doesn’t like—” Me-Me was
saying.
“Didn’t you tell yourself he would probably pull a stunt
like this when you started the project?” Therapist-Me interjected.
“Huh? Oh. Yes.”
“And what was your conclusion at that time?” Therapist-Me
prodded.
“Fuck him. Who cares?” Me-Me replied, somewhat unsure.
“Right. And what’s different now?”
“Nothing,” I said. “His existence literally doesn’t matter to
me anymore.”
Therapist-Me paused, waiting to see if Me-Me had anything to
add. I did. “OMG! This is absolutely hilarious! Is he trying to intimidate me
by paying me $1? I have to tell Melanie. I have to blog about this. But first I
have to block him from commenting on Patreon. He doesn’t get to make MY story
about him. Do you remember when he hijacked the comment threads on my old blog?
Narcissist gonna…narcissist?”
My thoughts trailed off as I opened the Patreon app to block
my ex-husband’s account. The app notified me that the requested action couldn’t
be completed because the account had been deleted.
Heh.
I don’t honestly know whether “Rodney” meant to pop in for a
minute to intimidate me and thought giving me a dollar was the best way to do
it, or if he just couldn’t help himself. Maybe his curiosity got the better of
him and he just had to have a look. Maybe he didn’t realize the name and email
he used to create his patron account would be sent to me. (In which case, what
a dipshit! Next time use an alias and a burner email, you twit.)
Either way?
LMFAO.
I don’t know if Rodney had enough time to read all the published
chapters of Who You Gonna Believe before he bailed, but there’s plenty of time
for YOU to catch up before a new chapter drops on November 30. Your patronage gets
you all the juicy details AND it helps me keep the lights on.
Think about it!
Become a Patron!
Nov 14, 2019 | Personal
Welcome to the new and improved EmilySuess.com! Now with 30% more cancer-kicking, LFG-shaming, memoir-promoting AWESOME.
I’m excited to say that with the help of some great people (Thanks, Dan! Thanks, Jenn! Thanks, Eva! Thanks, Jerry! Thanks, Patrons!) I’m now self-hosted.
With the change comes more flexibility and control in bringing you guys new content, and I hope you like it.
Fancy New Blog Post Layout
- You can rate posts now. Let me know how much (or little) you appreciate what I write. Look for the stars at the bottom of each post.
- Images are way better. That’s because I had enough donation money left over after paying hosting fees to sign up for Canva Pro. (I like Canva so much, I became an affiliate partner to help me cover future site maintenance fees and stuff. Get a free 30 day trial with my link.)
- Sharing my posts is super easy. Just pick a platform from the sharing options at the bottom of the page and click.
- To see all of my blog posts in a standard feed from newest to oldest, just click “Blog” in the header.
Don’t Forget to Subscribe to emilysuess.com
- To get new posts in your inbox, enter your email in the “Subscribe” widget. (Found in the top right on desktop or below the main content on mobile.) Emails will go out via MailChimp about 2:00 pm on weekdays, provided I’ve made a new post. NOTE: If you were signed up before, there’s no need to sign up again.
There Might Be A Wrinkle or Two
- There are a few known issues with my site right now, the big ones being slow loading and the occasional 504 Timeout. I expect to have the wrinkles ironed out soon. In the meantime, however, I appreciate your patience. I’m not an expert and radiation ate some brain cells—sometimes I break things harder before I fix them.
