I don't deal with rejection well. I guess I should be OK with it now. Heck, most of the 20 million jobs I have applied for, have ended with a rejection. And though it did seem to get easier after awhile…it has seemed to be a lot more painful now that it ever was before. Maybe it has been because I've gotten a lot further in the recruitment process than I have before - only to get turned down anyway. I try not to get my hopes up or get too attached to the idea of a certain job, but I need to make all sorts of arrangements just in case I do get the job - most notably, I need to work out transportation since I can't drive. This is a process, a time-consuming process were I get attached to the job. I cant help it. Despite everything, I am this sliver of hope. I believe that there is a job out there for me. I mean, I got into a select university three different times, while some people have trouble even getting into it once. I know I have talent and potential. I know I can be a productive member of society. Maybe it would be better for me if I didn't have any hope. Who am I to think I belong in the real world, alongside the able-bodied? It is horrible to be unemployed. People are always telling me I don't try hard enough or my standards or too high or whatever. I just can't hop in my non-existent car and go on a job interview. For the first six months I first lived here, I didn't even have a ramp, so I couldn't even get out of the fricken house. Kinda made it hard to get an interview. When I finally got a ramp, I found limited transportation options which made it hard to find anything I could get to - even for an interview. Then, I needed a new wheelchair, and I didn't dare make any money for fear I would lose my Medicaid and have a bill for my $10,000 chair I couldn't afford….and forget finding a job two blocks away with insurance. Yeah, I had better odds to convince NASA to let me be the first wheelchair user in space and go to the moon. It took a year and a half for Medicaid to get me a chair. By then, the bus line had started coming to my neighborhood (and our paratransit is rant-worthy, more later…) and my friend got me an internship at a non-profit were she worked. It was so humiliating to file and be the token girl in the wheelchair, but I liked the people I worked with and saw it as a stepping stone. After six months of going nowhere, I decided to quit. I finally had gotten to the top of the waiting list at DVR (after 2 an a half years on that stupid list; they are way under funded in the state of Washington…), so I could smell the possibility of a good job. But alas, nothing yet. Just more rejection and helplessness. I don't like to make excuses. But I am sick of being blamed for this. I used to blame myself a lot. I still blame myself sometimes, but it's so pointless to do that. Honestly, I can say I am doing the best I can under the circumstances. Does it mean I spend every waking moment searching for a job? No. Would I go work at Walmart or Taco Bell for minimum wage? No. Will I take a job I have to spend more time commuting to than actually working? No. Does this make me lazy and unworthy of a job? Of course it does. I mean, I am disabled after all. I'm not worth anything but the crap that's left over.