The wretched torment of Work Capability Assessments and ESA Tribunals and the fall out has finally reached a peak. I am more than miserable and hopeless.
Everything and everybody either makes me more miserable, more resentful or feel an even greater sense of loss of control.
Everywhere I turn I seem to be smacked in the face by the fact that I no longer really exist.
I am 'fit for work', so I must be well and therefore not eligible for any Benefits.
If I must be well then I must be able to work...but I'm not well enough to work (my doctor says so) so at least I can do some voluntary work.
I apply for some voluntary work but so far nobody seems to want what I have to offer (and to be honest I don't have much faith in what I have to offer anyway --- transference ?).
I look at Adult Ed. classes. They are far beyond my means (since I no longer have any Benefits or money of my own) but might be affordable if I was claiming ESA or JSA or DLA. I'm not eligible for any of those so I cannot afford to join a class.
In all honesty, there aren't any classes I want to join.
I am useful at home for looking after other people. There are always other people to look after at home....or other people's dogs. I can't have a dog of my own anymore because I can't afford to have a dog.
I am stuck
I am hopeless
I am lost
I am weary
Like many people I have had my share of difficulties and rough times. Usually I have been able to pick myself up, dust myself off and carry on...not 'letting the bastards grind me down'. This time I don't seem able to do that...or not for now.
Congratulations Ian Duncan-Smith and all your grand plans.
Congratulations Coalition government on all your media spin about Strivers and Skivers: an easy way to set one person against another, to make a very complex and difficult situation into a seemingly 'black and white' issue.
I used to be a Striver....then I was a Skiver...now I'm neither (heh !...a rhyme...maybe I'm a poet ??).
I can't skive and I can't strive...so what am I ?
....a little rudderless boat floating round and round and round in circles going nowhere with no name on the hull
(You might think the choice of song and singer is rather 'quaint'... Lena Zavaroni !!!
Wasn't she that girl with Hughie Green who sang rather over dramatically when she was 9 years old ?
She was. She was also anorexic and she was the friend of a friend of mine who died from anorexia. Lena died too. She was neither one thing or another --- a child star who had grown up and grown up the 'wrong shape' (i.e. 'fat' ...which was NOT what you wanted at Stage School in the 70s) so she tried to control her food, her environment, her relationships so that she would 'fit' and find some role that felt right. It didn't work and she lost the battle.
So, despite the schmaltz and ickiness of the song and delivery...it's all rather apt because, although I'm not anorexic and I have no intention of doing away with myself, I do feel like I am going nowhere and this song and the singer have direct connections to my own life)
5 comments:
My dear cusp, I feel for you and wish I could offer even half a solution. This illness is life and soul destroying, and to not have that acknowledged appropriately is downright evil.
You may indeed be a poet, but you are definitely a blogger, and I encourage you to keep putting your story out there. Cold hard facts in the public arena eventually must win through. And that is a very worthy contribution. Meanwhile, we, the readers, do care, xxx
You do exist, though - and your worth is not measured by the bastard Assessors. It is in any case not measurable. Your self-esteem has been injured and the ongoingness of this wretched illness is sometimes overwhelming. It is very hard when one hits this low place. But you have set it down and said how it is. Gold star! x
Dear Cusp,
As Signs says, the way this wretched illness goes on and on can easily lead to periods of complete hopelessness and being totally overwhelmed.
Im sorry (but not surprised after everything you've been/are going through) that you have reached this point now. I'm also really glad that you have spoken out about just how desperate you feel.
I would also like to echo Amanda - I wish there was something concrete I could do to help, but you are making a worthy contribution by telling your story. And I want you to know that I hear you.
And yes, please know that whatever those bastards have done to you and your self-esteem, you do exist, you do have great value and we do care.
Meanwhile, we go on, one moment at a time if that's what it takes. I hope some light breaks through again from somewhere eventually.
Love to you x
I'm really at a loss for words and I wish I had the right ones to help you. Words and whatever it takes. I know how it is to feel non-existent, unnoticed and unappreciated. My knowing it cannot help you. If my thoughts can, be assured that I feel for you, I understand your indignation and I know how exhausting it is having to face the Bastards. It is really they who are worth very little.
I'm so sorry for you, Cusp. And angry at this vile government. I hear through the grapevine that many PWME are facing the same fate at the hands of these bastards.
I was hoping that I'd recovery enough to earn a few quid here and there as self employed, but last year's relapse has scuppered that idea. I've been severe and housebound for almost a year now. 20 years of progress evaporated and I know I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of being any where near back to where I was in the foreseeable future (by which I mean the next few years, not the next few months).
Poverty is not fun. Illness is not 'good for the soul' nor is it some big cosmic lesson. It's tough just to keep going. But we've got to hang on in there...somehow.
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