Sorry it’s been so long. I am working through an identity crisis.
At first I thought it was a mid- life crisis, but upon closer review, it is definitely an identity crisis.
Sometime about a month ago someone thought it a good idea to get all involved in my bank account without my permission. So, countless hours and a police report later – that is ALMOST resolved.
Then, last week we went to file my taxes. Apparently someone already did that. In JANUARY!
More hours on the phone. More papers. Just what I was hoping for -really.
The whole thing seems almost too hard to believe, almost. It’s not the first time either.
And, I am pretty vigilant.
I mean I do blog – obviously. And I am not super careful about personal information here. But, with financial stuff I am guarded. I online bill pay only through my bank – which incidentally changed this week. I don’t answer phone solicitations, or fall for those Emails that try to trap you into believing they are real by urgently asking for personal information.
I don’t use my debit card for anything. I keep one credit card and monitor its online activity every 48 hours.
By all accounts I am on my game. But, apparently someone else is there too.
And I can’t figure out why, although I have a host of suspicions. Since we are married this is the 5th incident I can count where one of our identities has been compromised in some way. We fill out lots of papers, but we do so because we have to in whatever situation requires it.
What I want to know really is, does someone truly WANT to be ME?
I mean full on Cowden’s Syndrome, breast cancer, hysterectomy, thyroid removal, spleen tumors, kidney cysts, a doctor every 30 seconds, no break, ever… with a kid just passed surgery number 11 in 10 years, and who does all that and then some?
I’m not trying to say my life is THAT bad. I can count dozens of others whose predicaments are worse – but it doesn’t let up. Not for a minute. Ever.
It’s like that hamster in the wheel thing. Not for the faint of heart.
I wonder if my identity stealer(s) – cause they can’t know if it’s the same person- would like to hang out with me for a week or two. Maybe during a “fake” Spring Break?
That’s what my daughter has come to call it, after between us we have already covered 7 doctor’s appointments, with more lab tests pending.
Because I could ask them to spend some time on the phone with the credit reporting agencies, requesting 7 year freeze on all credit.
Or maybe they would like to copy the police reports, and mail them out.
Or perhaps they’s like to file the medical bills. And then call the get the errors corrected. And then call again when the bills go to collections for no reason.
Maybe they would like to drive. Through Manhattan. The place I swore many years ago I would never drive. All day. And pay repeatedly to park the car.
Because this week I could have used some back up. A 1 o’clock appointment Monday for me – genetics. A story for another day. And then yesterday to Long Island for one of the few doctors who listens to us. And today there was a 9AM at NYU for Mom, and a 10 and 11:15 (which became a 12:45) for Meghan at Sloan. Sometime as I was driving between NYU and Sloan I thought a lot about how this is not my “real life,” navigating between taxis with my heart in my throat. I thought about my identity thief (thieves?) and how maybe they had some skills I could use too – like driving through chaos.
And as we navigated our way back towards home to make a local appointment with the ENT to address the throat clearing, I could feel the tension on my shoulders and up and down my neck. We made the appointment, in time to hear his ideas, and hop back in the car.
Onward to a quick Gluten-Free pizza – no cheese, and off to CYO practice.
Then, granola in the car and off to the other practice. Where I sit. Now. Waiting.
Prior to my nutritional cleansing I would say I was exhausted. Now, I am just tired. Tired, and confused. But I have strength and stamina that I never possessed before.
Where exactly is my real life?
Is it on the cell phone asking the PA why the thyroid levels aren’t making a move to improve? I hope not. Because I don’t like the numbers and they don’t like my questions. Something will have to give.
Is it making the phone calls, filing reports, protecting the identity, keeping the house in some semblance of order, grocery shopping till all hours and at all costs?
The good thing about an identity crisis is it forces you to focus. It forces you to stop and think about who you are, and what matters to you. It forces you to decide to be deliberate in your thoughts, words and actions.
Initially I spent a good deal of time very angry about the identity thing. It took quite some time to start shaking it off. I am much better now- although not thrilled, I’ve come far.
See my ten year old recently in an interview about Cowden’s Syndrome said to the reporter, “You have a choice, you can be angry or you can DO something.”
Wise words from my preteen.
I am angry. But it won’t control who I am.
Identity theft sucks. It’s mean and it’s wrong, and it’s a time-consuming pain.
Cowden’s Syndrome is flat out horrendous. The follow up appointments are enough to drive you mad. If you let them.
Life seems to be tossing boulders.
Maybe my identity is “boulder catcher,” so I can put them gently down.
Or “magician” so I can turn them into something more gentle and flowery.
I know who I am.
And I can not, and will not be defined by the obstacles in my path.
I will not remain a ‘Victim” of identity theft – or anything.
I have “Cowden’s Syndrome” but I will not let it have me.
I am a mom.
I am a wife.
I am a sister.
I am a daughter, and a granddaughter, and an aunt, and a niece, and a cousin.
I am a friend.
I am a teacher.
I am a student of life.
I am a Christian.
I try my best.
I try again.
I am forgiven.
Identity Crisis – Over…