Dear Department for Work and Pensions – DWP Keir Starmer Rachel Reeves The Labour Party United Nations Human Rights ,
Today I shall be buying Toilet paper, potatoes, corned beef (1 tin), frozen carrots and some onions. This can last me three days if I ration it.
I will use my electric cooker for around 45 minutes. I will drink around 1
5ltr of filtered water (as tap water is now likely unsafe to anyone with a compromised immunity).
I shall flush the toilet around 8 times, this is a reduction because the crohns has been effected by the dihydracodeine and morphine I am having to take because of the pain of having my rib cage separated for heart surgery. Today I may need to eat extra carbs due to my now, diagnosed, type 1 diabetes. On the plus side the medically induced constipation means until the laxatives kick in I shall not need to use pads.
I will need to pay for transport to my hospital appointment in Sheffield this afternoon.
I do not smoke, and rarely drink so no money spent there.
I shall not have breakfast or lunch, as that may be seen as extravagant by DWP assessors.
I will watch streamed tv if I can concentrate through the pain.
I may need to use additional toilet roll due to the emotional pain I am dealing with because my kids have disowned me, because the society you promote sees me as a worthless useless cripple.
I will however endeavour not to spend anything further today, due to the need to save as much as I can because of the very real risk that the government and the DWP will remove all of the money i recieve due to my chronic and life limiting health issues
I sincerely apologise that I was only able to pay into the system for 35yrs, and that despite my paying higher rate tax and all the NI contributions relating to my pay, I have had to by necessity had to claim on the national insurance policy, and that the money being paid to me can noy be now given to arms companies under the guise of foreign aid.
Yours in fear of retribution
Jonesy Jones
Tag: #depression
Depression
What I truly despise about PTSD, depression, anxiety, loss, pain, crohns, my heart issues and fibro is people see them as inconsequential and choices. They assume if you dare to share their effects upon you that you are being weak or attention seeking.
Well Saturday I was being strong by letting folk know through my posts. I was fighting one of the hardest enemies any of us can face, ourselves.
I did not do any of the things my mind was telling me, no actually demanding I do. I reached out and some fabulous folk recognised it was bad and responded, some people missed it and sadly a very few others likely didn’t care. Some of those particular people being those that share all the supposed mental health awareness posts.
That’s no matter now, I got through the weekend, I am still here, I am not suddenly well though, every single day right now is a constant battle where triggers, walls, mist, and blocked pathways are the weapons my brain uses to overwhelm my decision making, my motivation and sadly too often my argument to take another breath.
I am no worse off than countless others, and probably better off than many in some ways, and I promise this in so many ways is not about me, its about not being too late to recognise friends and just how things are developing for them.
I fight each day, for me it would really be so easy, a simple extra this, or more of that. I have sat planning far more than once, but so far on the whole have been able to find another road that may offer even if briefly some small semblance of hope.
I see folk and they see a joker, a confident possibly arrogant self opinionated bloke, with good friends and a nice bike. And yes that I’d mainly the me I choose to project when out and about, but I absolutely swear that is only 5% of the true me.
I have remained here with difficulty by remembering I am a parent and son, but recently I have begun to realise in my case that is not how I am seen by those involved in those relationships, so that defence wanes daily.
The person I project face to face is possibly the me I would like to be, however the one I am is fighting a constant war withing a limbo of despair and clouds.
I like everyone have little say in how long I remain, and it may be minutes, days, months or decades, in some ways its no longer about length of time, its about manner, whether I continue to hold my own or whether the illnesses prevail.
Today I am not finding holding on as hard as Saturday, but it still is a struggle and the inner conflict rages on and on.
Jonesy.
Jonesy, simply a human 