...and being Accosted by a mouth breathing Cop over a simple ADA accommodation request. Today was the Utah Democratic State Convention, here’s the funny thing about that –– I’ve been an accidental delegate for the last 6 years. I also somehow unintentionally found myself to be the Salt Lake County Veterans Caucus Chair, as well as State Veterans Co-Chair –– Now I say this in jest and take my job seriously and I’m honored to serve, but it’s funny how when it comes to these certain responsibilities they found their way to me without ever being part of MY plan.
I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been dreading this day for weeks, I loathe these large gatherings — when I go to them, my Post Traumatic Stress controls me, instead of the other way around.
I recognize that part of the reason why it’s been so difficult for me — Post COVID, this was the first really big event I’ve attended since my Service Dog Molly passed away shortly before covid ended the world.
I’m kind of stalled in the process to get a new service dog, which is a much longer story. But back when I had Molly, going to these large crowded events was so much more manageable, and they didn’t stop me in my tracks like they have been lately.
Last week I tried going to the much smaller County convention, but could only really manage about 45 min before I just had to get out of there and go home, which I’ll be honest –– that was really fracking defeating, so I really wanted to make today work out, I was really depending on it because I needed a win… anything to help me get some momentum. Woke up this morning feeling all chipper, stopped in at Starbucks and picked up coffee for the Veterans Caucus get together, popped a few Pineapple Cannabis Gummies, and was ready to give it my best. Once all the delegates started gathering in the auditorium, I knew there was no way I was gonna make it on the main floor. I was already drenched in sweat, and no amount of discrete rips from my vape pen was going to get my heart rate down to an acceptable level.
Having worked with the Disability Caucus for years I was able to arrange an accommodation with convention party leaders and the school administrators to watch from the empty balcony level of the auditorium where the Press was allowed. It’s not really a big deal, and not an outlandish accommodation request.
Once I got up to the balcony my anxiety relented enough that my sweat drenched clothes were able to dry, and I could comfortable participate with a normal heart rate, and vote and take care of all the necessary business required of me as a delegate.
That’s when this cop inserted himself into the situation.
After about 45 minutes of normal convention business about the rules and such, I had to go the bathroom, so I collected my things and walked down an unusually long stairwell back to the main floor and took care of business. Walked all the way back up the stairway to heaven, and I’m not joking about how long this thing was… this time the door was locked.
I knocked, and could see the cop through the crack of the door laughing and refusing to come and open it. Walked all the way back down these infinity stairs and got the school administrator to walk all the way back up that behemoth of a calf exercise, and he’s kind enough to unlock that door so I can come and go in order to take care of caucus business.
As soon as I sat down, I kid you not, this cop walked back over to the door and relocked it again. Sitting in disbelief for a moment at what I just saw, we went through another round of convention business and I clicked away on my keyboard typing up a statement from the Veterans Caucus.
Finally it was coming up to the time when I wanted to make a motion on the floor, but to do so, I had to go down and use the microphone. I walked over to the officer and his buddy asking him to unlock the door so I can get back up after I took care of business… but folding his arms like a juiced up gym bro looking at himself in the mirror, he shook his head and said no he was not going to do that.
Already I could taste that nasty bitter taste of an oncoming episode. The Adrenaline telling my body to get into fight mode, and it was going to happen with or without my consent.
I was too afraid to also tell him the second reason why I needed to go in and out so often –– like hell I’m gonna tell a cop that I need a weed break, and I was going to go outside and do drugs on a High School Campus. Yes I have a legal medical Cannabis card, and all my stuff was bought in the church approved stores… but I’m not THAT dumb, there was no way I’d let this guy know I was fetching to go do some weed. As calmly as I could I tried to let this mouth breathing Little-D man child with a badge know that an accommodation had been made with the convention and the school administration because of my PTSD, to which he interrupted me mid sentence telling me that he doesn’t care, he’s in charge and went into some silly excuse about security. Anyways, none of it was true, This was about his authority and being challenged which is something I’m not afraid to do. As this whole thing proceeded, I could see that this guy was enjoying triggering my disability, almost for his enjoyment. It was gross, it was demeaning and I was doing everything in my power to keep my cool.
By now I’d missed my opportunity to make my motion, and I needed to get some help from our amazing disability caucus chair because this douche just flipped on his body cam so he could record me.
Oh My GOD, when he flipped that switch, it was like a moment of quantum entanglement because the bitch inside me also got flipped on.
The Fuck, as politely as I was able told this bro I’m not the kind to fuck with –– ya I know he has a gun and a badge, but I know up until this point I was 100% within the law, and my whiteness and veteran status afforded me the opportunity to unleash a string of profanity that made this high school resource office blink in surprise.
I had to walk way, and deplete the battery on my vape pen as I took multiple rescue doses of medical cannabis to help me de-orbit. –– "Ground control to Major Tom… Take your protein pills and put your helmet on." (D.Bowie)
I gathered myself, and was determined to reclaim my power that this jerk had taken from me.
After working out some more details with our ADA coordinator and the school and the amazing caucus staff, my good friend and fellow Veteran Richard and I walked back up that ungodly staircase with the school administrator and took our seats center balcony so Officer Douche Canoe could see us. I spent the next few hours staring this BadgeBro down, letting him know I was not gonna back down and heckling him every time he walked by. I know, I’m probably gonna get some “love” from the back the blue brigade, generally I support law enforcement, when they behave like civilized and decent people, but we all know there are a regretful number of bad apples with a badge… and this guy is definitely one of those. I have super charged empathic and intuitive ability to read someone, it’s a byproduct of trauma that many of us discover that we obtain on the back side of healing. This guy has some dark energy around him.
Having spent a few hours looking back at this event, what really get’s me the most is how often people in positions of authority like Police Officers seem to enjoy triggering people with mental disability, as if it’s entertainment for them. I ask myself what kind of a sick individual does these kinds of things, but then I have to remind myself folks like Charles Manson and John Wayne Gacy exist in real life, this guy’s definitely not as bad as those guys but he’s definitely on the spectrum of gross humans that exist. He definitely needs some weed and learn how to chill.
Oh, oh… and get this, this cop eventually left the balcony and went down to the main level, and when he did, he propped “The Door” open so anyone can come and go as they please.
Richard and I could not believe he actually did that… I snapped a picture because I knew people would think I’m just exaggerating the level of pettiness this little-d cop was capable of.
I know I’m not alone with others that feel like they are being controlled by their disability. The feelings of failure and frustration are so real, and for those of you who are in a similar situation, please know you’re not alone!
Thank GOD for medical cannabis, because this miracle of a drug helped me make it through all 9 hours, and an unnecessary trauma, and I’m still alive, and not behind bars.
Every time there was a trigger, a rip on the pen was able to bring me back down… When I was on the VA’s pharmaceutical protocols the only option for that kind of rescue was to pop a valium and spend the rest of the day in a comatose state. That isn’t the case with MedC. That’s what makes this treatment option so groundbreaking in the management of Post Traumatic Stress, Anxiety and putting our sympathetic nervous system back into standby mode. I’ve seeing a meme going around on the social medias that uses Star Trek’s Starship Enterprise as the metaphor for our sympathetic nervous system. If the Enterprise was traveling at warp 9.9 everywhere they go all the time the ships engines would explode. Living with PTS is like being in a constant state of warp 9.9 — and It’s exhausting.
That’s why I love using Medical Cannabis, it puts that fight or fight system into standby and it gives you the chance to catch your breath… after coughing your head off first of course.
I’m the Pot Head Veteran, thanks for listening, please subscribe, visit my website PotHeadVeteran.com and of course — Smoke Long and Prosper.
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