Showed up. Served. Decades spent doing the job as asked—consistently, without hesitation.

Medical reports clearly state: sitting is no longer possible, functioning is impaired. Treatment was delayed or replaced with interventions that worsened the condition…

The claim now is that I’ve never stopped working, which is demonstrably false. Excuses are routinely used to deny and delay treatment and compensation for injured workers. Payroll records show no income for over a year.

Seeking recognition and acknowledgment that the job put me in this condition, caused by a documented work injury that they deny exists. Again, I say documented.

The Logic That Loops

They do this because they can. Because it’s easier to blame the injured than to take responsibility. Because delay and denial are tools of control.

I’ve reached out to those who will fight on my behalf. But it’s maddening that we can’t simply pick up the phone and correct the record. Instead, we’re forced to navigate a maze of rules built on a lie—rules upheld by circular logic, bad faith inquiry, and motivated reasoning, all wrapped in systemic gaslighting.

Conditions are denied while a narrative is constructed that demands proof of how I could possibly be working *if* those conditions were real. It’s not logical. It’s a trap.

A Reactive Substance

Dehumanized. Reduced to a reactive substance. I did the work that was required of me. But when you do too much for too long, and then suddenly one day you are unable to perform, the very thing that once purified becomes corrosive.

I became “too much” when I worked so hard that my body gave out.
And with that shift, the role changed—from contributor to complication. What was once valued became questioned. What was once relied upon became “too much.”

Sipping the Formula

Fractured. In nearly every sense of the word. Recovery and healing are needed, and validation and justice are pursued.

The process now requires sipping on a formula they’ve designed—one that burns all the way down. The terms are not neutral; they’re shaped by distortion. The rules in place are not built for fairness—they’re structured to preserve control.

Engagement is mandatory, even when the system itself is difficult to name without triggering the weight of its impact. To pursue healing, one must first endure the very conditions that contributed to the harm.

This is not theoretical. It’s lived. And it’s ongoing.

The Paradox of Toxic Restoration

Everything about surviving toxic environments says to:

• Make an escape plan
• Establish and enforce clear boundaries
• Limit interactions by emotionally detaching, avoiding arguments, and refusing to engage in toxic behaviors.

But none of that is possible right now – not without risking my health and future.

So I ask: 

How do you heal when the source of injury is also the gatekeeper to recovery? 

How do you restore what’s broken when the tools for restoration are locked behind the very entity that caused the damage?

It’s a paradox. A trap. A ritual of exposure.

Where I Stand

Ultimately, I don’t stand on their system. I stand on Christ—the solid rock. Their structure is fragile, corrupt, and temporary. He is eternal.

Matthew 7:24–27 reminds us that those who hear and follow Jesus build their lives on a foundation that holds firm when the storms come. But those who ignore His words construct on sand—and when trials hit, everything collapses.

Even with trust placed in God to guide the outcome, the fight continues. Showing up remains necessary—because without action, nothing shifts.

Health must be restored. Functionality reclaimed. The benefits earned over decades of service are not granted through silence.

This is a season for persistence. For prayer. For steady, faithful resistance.

Chlorine and the Medical Moment

The song Chlorine by Twenty One Pilots inspired the name of this blog and this post. 

Two lyrics in particular stay with me:

•  “The moment is medical”

•  “Weathered flag by the sea”

“The moment is medical” reminds me that death is just a medical moment in the span of eternity. 

If we’re in Christ, that moment becomes the doorway to meeting Him face to face. 

It’s not something to fear, even though we do. It’s something to anticipate with hope.

But that doesn’t mean we rush toward it. 

We didn’t bring ourselves into this world, and it’s not ours to decide when to leave. 

While we’re here, we’re called to glorify God—to love Him, love others, and make disciples.

I fail at this in so many ways. But that doesn’t change the calling.

Weathered Flag

“I’ve been tested like the ends of a weathered flag that’s by the sea.” 

That lyric resonates deeply. I’m being tested—again and again—while the storms keep coming. 

There’s not much more to say about that. The visual image speaks for itself.

Check out the video below: