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Chapter One: The early years

I was born Natalie Marie-Rose Whitson, on September 12th 1985, in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. I was named after Natalie Wood, my mothers' favorite actress. I had two older half-sisters, each from my parents' previous marriages. Their names were Tammy and Candace, and they were 14 and 13 at the time of my birth. A year later in 1986 my sister Ameris (who has transitioned and is now my brother) was born, and in 1989 my brother Justin was born.  Around the time of my birth, my family was immersed in a very comfortable financial situation, though it wouldn't stay that way. Back then, my dad was a successfully practicing lawyer. We lived in a gorgeous, large Tudor style house in an upscale area of Victoria called Oak Bay. My mother was more than pleased to be in a very different position than she had been growing up. My dad, who is originally from Pincher Creek Alberta, was introduced to my mother while he was working in a law firm out east in Canada's capital, Ottaw...
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Forward

Financial inequality in healthcare is a problem throughout world. This problem is obvious enough that, at the end of the day, we're all aware of it. However, people tend to be quite ignorant about what it's actually like to have an illness and/or disability that is not obviously apparent and therefore mostly invisible, or, what it's actually like to be living with health problems while poor, unless these things have personally impacted them or someone very close to them. In this, I think more media coverage in the form of things like documentaries - to show what it's really like for us - would be crucially helpful.  I feel that people really need to know about three crucial aspects of being chronically ill and disabled, including invisibly; They need to know about how hard it is to be stuck trying to live and cope in this situation with lower income, they need to know about how cruel it is to disbelieve someone just because they are working hard to cope and function a...
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Prologue

Chapter 1: It was a cool, crisp March day, the day that I went to go meet with the man who was then my Family Doctor, to learn about what would devastate my life for a good few years, and damage my life forever. Even before I knew, I was anxious. Something was feeling very wrong in the pit of my gut. He had called me in and asked to speak with me personally, after I'd requested a copy of a report that had been written by the last psychiatrist I had spoken with.  I had been talked into going and speaking with psychiatrist Dr. Kiri Simms about my struggles which were pressing at that time. I had been struggling with anxiety and becoming reliant on pain medications too often, because my chronic pain was increasing. I still needed to remain productive and be a mother; My kids were only 6 and 7 at the time. Regardless of all the factors and concerns that I tried to communicate, the consult did not go well, and I knew it. Dr Simms had read negative things about me in notes, and that didn...
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