🎯 Bear Blog Draft: "The Refund They Owe Me"
By the time they tally it all, I’ve already paid.
They’ll call it a disability claim. I call it a refund.
Not because I want a handout. But because I’ve been walking this road with broken parts for years— ears ringing, mind spinning, still showing up to work while pretending not to flinch when someone talks too low or too fast.
I didn’t ask for compensation when the noise started. I just adjusted. Turned my head to the good ear. Cranked the volume. Smiled like I heard it all.
But now I’m filing. Because I finally said it out loud.
Not just for me— but to help carry the weight that wasn’t mine alone.
There’s a version of me that would’ve stayed silent. Let pride eat the paperwork. Let guilt keep me from checking the box.
But silence doesn’t pay rent. And pride doesn’t feed my sister.
They can call it a game if they want. I’ll still roll the dice.
Because every loud machine, every missed word, every cold sting in my left ear— already punched the clock before this claim ever hit the VA system.
So yeah.
Call it a disability rating if you want.
But when that number hits my account? Just know—
I already paid. In full.
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