Quagmire. Best word to describe how I feel about life right now. I have so much stuff to sort and fix but I’m swimming against the tide.
My reserve tanks are all out, I’m running on fumes. I know there are people in power people who could help but I am weak. I am not confident nor do I have the energy to front it. I’ve been fronting my whole life. I just need help. When I ask for it.
I got my independents back but was met with some issues. The summer months were ok but then winter hits and bam! I’m in the quicksand. I am not a victim and I do not like sounding victimised but when I re read my words I see that I am. I am being victimised, I am not being treated with care and dignity. My rights are not being met. Yes I understand that everyone is over worked and underpaid so I stay quite and take their feeble excuses. Who is understanding me and my struggle?
I live on an estate built by St James, my flat is owned by Thames Valley Housing Association.
I moved here in 2008, second floor 2 bedroom flat. My forever home. Even when my family grew, we made it work in my forever home. I never wanted to move.
I never wanted cancer either. I didn’t want my life torn apart, sliced and diced in more then metaphoric ways. I never asked to be disabled, I never asked to feel half alive. A failure as a mother and a wife. I never asked to be a burden on my family friends and neighbours but here we are.
Things I have asked for, a speed hump to be removed so I can exit my estate the quickest and simplest way.
No matter who I ask or what I ask its never simple.
If I don’t do what is asked of me I die. Thats how high my responsibilities are. I do what is required so I can do my job as a mother. I don’t get the luxury my housing officer gets. But he is overworked and underpaid.
Not my problem though is it. I am my own problem I need to do my best.
In September this year I watched a block of flat twice the size of mine burn down in 6 minutes. Thankfully everyone got out. This has lead to fire safety being checked on the rest of the estate. Its frightening to live here. At a residents meeting there was talk of a list of vulnerable residents. I put my hand up to ask how you got on that list. They said if you are disabled or seriously ill. I tick both boxes. A man named Howard Dawson (who has over 25 years experience in social housing) pulled me to one side and apologised he hadn’t been informed. My housing officer Colin Wilson knows my vulnerabilities, he has seen my doctors letters knows I am registered disabled and also knows I can not exit the estate the quickest and easiest way because I’ve been asking since January about a speed bump that restricts me. Able bodied people are fine. He has not thought to put me on the list.
I do not feel seen. I do not feel heard. I am scared.
The people I have encountered since being diagnosed at Thames Valley and Sutton Council are rude and unhelpful.
I want to be the best Mum I can be so I need to be the happiest Mum I can be but right now I’m trapped. I am trapped in a world of pain and restrictions. I am trapped in my depression and anxiety. I am trapped in this flat because no one will help me.
I am not ashamed to say I am scared.