Wouldn’t it be nice to get on with me neighbours?
As I sit here with the blog open thinking of tonight’s writing and I’m completely stumped as to why it is that I feel down? I know this is not the right place to get emotional, but that’s the way I feel just now, emotional, vulnerable and definitely F.I.N.E. as defined by Aerosmith. My life is unable to run smoothly, I get anxious about nothing, have panic attacks before I go outside. I also think about different ways to meet Death head on, cut out the friendly banter but go down fighting. How does someone who should have died so often in the past confront Death and die?
I feel that my life has been a complete waste, I’m almost 60, my daughter hates me for leaving her twice, my son is in foster care because I was too late in doing what I knew had to be done, with four marriages, three divorces and one separation the only common denominator is me. I accept the blame because everything that is wrong with my life is down to me. I accept that now as I hit rock bottom, there is nowhere left to go. I see a lot of things hidden from the eyes of most people, and none of it bodes well. I have seen things happening now in this once great land of ours, that I have watched on newsreel footage of Germany in the 1920’s and 1930’s.
Forgive me dear reader but the similarities will become clear momentarily. Unrest amongst the population was used to elect a fascist in 1930’s Germany, in Britain in the 21st century the government fuelled backlash against those who rely on benefit because they are too ill to work, or too mentally ill to look for work. The other day, a Government minister, the one responsible for this hatred being stirred up, Iain Duncan Smith, was laughing when he heard that those who rely on handouts from food banks are putting too much strain on the charities trying to help. Since 2010 the figure of people being helped has gone up from 20,000 under Gordon Brown to over 100,000 for the year ended in April 2013. Reports suggest this could double this year.
The joke that is the Work Capability Assessment, ensuring that mental illness is treated as no illness at all, results in people being found fit for work and losing their only source of income. I was threatened with loss of benefit as for two weeks I had been feeling suicidal and had not applied for any jobs. Because of this I have been applying for apprenticeships, driving jobs, managerial positions when I’m too old, can’t drive and have no management experience. As well as applying for jobs that I can do just so that I will keep getting my benefit, housing benefit, council tax relief so I can survive the winter, maybe. I have a straight choice, the same as everyone else in my position, heat my flat or eat, I can’t afford to do both. Does anyone care? Not as far as I can tell.