"Oh bugger " said the camel.

You remember I had to go for a medical review, and went 5 hours early, told doctor don't give a toss excuse me while I chat on the phone about the price of replacement tyres for my posh car about what a complete lunatic I am, bared my soul ( though not my bosoms, they are kept for young and handsome technician type people) and told him how shopping takes a while because I must talk to myself the whole time and avoid things like queues and people who may talk to me? Explain how I go to sleep at 3am and get up at 7am and spend all day telling myself that I won't put a hosepipe through the window of the car today because maybe things well get better tomorrow, ( I suspect that's what did it, I am obviously way too positive and forward thinking for a truly depressed person) Anyway, today I got a letter saying that I failed the medical, therefore all benefits have been stopped, from now, as in today or even yesterday because I got the letter today and it was over at the barn so the benefits people probably got theirs yesterday saying that I am fit and well and completely normal.
Snap went the camel's back.
I can appeal ( and I will, as soon as I stop hyperventilating and crying and heaving with fear) and while we appeal our money will be reduced by 20%. So, the govt works out how much ( little) we need to live on, then we get that much, so now we get 20% less than we need and if we win the appeal we get back the money they withheld. Eventually. within 6 months.
I have been metaphorically whistling with my fingers in my ears for the past 2-3 months, telling myself that we can do this, it will be OK we will have a holiday and then I will worry about everything, it all works out in the end after all, doesn't it?
No, it doesn't. Not for me, it sometimes looks like it might be alright, just long enough for me to start thinking that this time, well yeay, we got a break...then just as I almost believe it........here we go again.
I have been deemed medically incapacitated for 4 years, during those years things have not improved for me, rather, they have become worse. I get on and somehow muddle through and almost always try to see the positive. I have my dreams and I have my disappointments, don't we all?
I am sure that I will be able to prove my inability to work a full time job and hang on to the teeny bit of sanity I have left. I am sure that eventually I will be able to show that I am not a parasite on the british government. In the meantime, we are faced with yet more stress and even more worry, also the very real possibility that the money I have paid for the holiday will be lost and the ability to repay my mum the money she lent us to book the holiday at the great price will be a very tough call indeed. ( But I will, somehow, I will mum)
I have to send in a letter of appeal, when they get that they will decide what happens next ( and we all know they will decide very slowly, in their own sweet time because, why hurry?) Naturally, no-one has ever contacted my doctor, the one I see every 2 weeks at least just to get through the life that is thrown my way. Too easy you see, we get sent to a doctor who has never seen us before and he asks some set questions without looking up from his clip board. He then sends in a check list ( yes, she can dress herself and watch a TV show, fit for full time work, next please)
I think maybe I could work, maybe even enjoy a full time job...if I didn't have to worry about where we are going to live in 3 months, how soon Isaac will start talking at school again, if Sophie will ever be safe from her demons, if I can ever manage to go shopping for an hour without digging holes in my fingers, if I can drive further than 5 miles without having a panic attack so huge that I plan my own funeral....well maybe getting a job would be lovely.
My doctor just called, bless her heart.....she is writing a cover note for me to send with my letter of appeal. She is willing to tell them in no uncertain terms that I am actually bordering on certifiable ( always borderline, why not actually certifiable, here we go with the dreams of nice drugs and a comfy padded room) She suggested buying a lottery ticket, she said that honestly, something is surely about to turn and sod's law says a win is in the cards. Then she got all professional again and said sorry for being so flippant. She is a very nice Doctor. I like her very much.
So, there we have it. Snap goes the camel's back and Bugger said he.