I wanted to move back to Northampton
under my own steam. Sadly, the move would eventually be forced.
Back when I was 16, if you remember, my
mother kicked me out and had discussed the subject openly with my
brother but hadn't even hinted anything to me. Well this repeated
itself when she informed me that she had been planning to move down
to the Northampton area herself for a while. She had actually started
the ball rolling.
You see, the brother had procreated.
She was a grandmother and wanted to see him grow up. Of course all of
the plans made didn't involve me. When she moved, I'd be out on my
ear. I had had to push my own moving plans into action.
My medication almost certainly stopped
me from reacting angrily to this news. I think that's why my mother
had left it until then to tell me. Our relationship was improving as
I was getting the help I needed and was becoming an easier person to
be around.
Up until that point, the premise had
been I wouldn't move until I was ready to stand on my own two feet. A
bit of anxiety crept in though. I might not have a choice.
Luckily for me, I was in a much better
position to find housing in Northampton. I had my new family and some
old friends to help get me set up. I knew I could count on their
support, but I wanted to make sure I could do it by myself. I was
able to quite quickly secure some temporary digs for when I did move
and it looked quite plausible that I could be down there before the
Xmas of 2011.
I also looked at getting on the council
house list down there. As it stands, living outside of the area, I'd
be on band D. That would be a 2 year wait and as my mother had
already been on the same list for 6 months or so, she had a head
start on me and that wasn't going to work.
However, if I was to move into
temporary digs, I'd be technically homeless and living in the area.
I'd be moved up to band B. That had an average wait of 1 year. I'd
already be in the town aswell, so I wouldn't have to worry about
actually becoming homeless and living on the streets.
One thing I had to think about was how
I'd be able to not only fund a move, but to be able to pay rent and
bills once I got there. Now I'd never received any benefits before.
Even through all of those jobless months and years, I'd never signed
on. It just didn't feel right. It was rare that I was actually
seeking work. So to get job seekers allowance felt like fraud to me.
I didn't want to be one of those people.
There was another option. That was to
go down the medical route. The Citizens Advice bureau had advised me
that I may be entitled to Employment and Support Allowance, which had
replaced incapacity benefit. It meant that if I was to move while on
that, I'd have most of my bills paid for me and although I wouldn't
be standing on my own two feet, I'd be down there and the recovery
could really begin.
I hadn't really seen anyone from the
NHS for a few months. Most of my rehab was complete. I did have to
see Dr Wrong again though and I had told him of my worries about the
backwards steps I had taken. The relapse. His response still angers
me to this day; “Are you sure that's not your doing?”
When I told him I had changed my diet
and was now buying my own food, albeit with my mothers money, he
angered me even more; “Come on Daniel, you're 27 years old now!”
I struggled to hold myself back from decking him, I really did. He
was patronising and he was condescending. I sought a second opinion a
week later and that doctor had no problems giving me a second set of
medication to take. That was it, I'd avoid Dr Wrong at all costs now.
I applied for the ESA at the beginning
of August 2011. The application was done over the phone. I thought it
was easy. It'd soon get very complicated. I had asked Citizens Advice
to help but they were less than useless. The phone line was always
down and they couldn't give me an appointment for another 5 weeks.
That wasn't good enough, so I did it myself.
The whole system is wrong in my eyes.
But it's that way because of the people who have abused or
fraudulently claimed for benefits in the past. It's those peoples
fault that getting the benefits you deserve is so difficult. Even the
phone numbers are backwards. It's a freephone number to claim, but if
your claim is accepted and you need information from them, it costs
you 25 p a minute. You're guaranteed to be on hold for 10 minutes
aswell.
A few days after making the phone
claim, I received a letter saying it had been accepted. Bonus, quick,
easy and painless. Oh no, it wasn't that easy. In this letter they
said I needed to send a doctors note for the period of August. Off I
trot to the doctors to get one and I send it off. A week later I've
heard nothing and two expensive phone calls gave me any useful
information.
The third expensive phone call actually
got some answers. The claim, although accepted, had been suspended
because they didn't have a sicknote to cover the previous three
months. Now I had back dated the claim to May. I could have backdated
it to the previous August, I'm glad I didn't, I would probably have
had to walk to the benefits centre in Bolton to show them my left toe
for them to accept that.
Still, I waited. Then waited some more
and despite numerous promises of a call back from them, it was always
me who had to ring them. I'd go through the menu, then sit on hold
for 10 minutes, then have to go through all the security questions,
then have to tell them the situation, then have to wait for them to
find the notes of my claim. If it wasn't for my medication, I'd have
given up very quickly. I stood fast though and my patience was
eventually rewarded with yet another acceptance letter, in fact two,
on the same day, detailing that my claim from August and the back
dated money would be paid.
There was very little information sent
out to me though and there was a hell of a lot that I had to either
figure out for myself or spend another 10 minutes on hold to them at
25p a minute finding out.
I'd have a work capability assessment
at some point over the next x weeks. I say x, because the goalposts
moved almost daily. I think the latest is 13 weeks. But 13 weeks from
the back dated claim date? 13 weeks from the actual claim date, 13
weeks from the day I first got my money? It may as well have been 13
weeks after the DFS sale ended. They told me nothing though, never
kept me in the loop and never hinted as to when it would come up.
Through all of this, I had to keep
supplying them with sicknotes. They never had any issue sending out
letters to remind me of that. They never sent me any useful
information though.
As I write this, I'm 3 days away from
that work capability assessment. As I write this, it's December and I
applied for the ESA 4 months ago exactly. No wonder people fall into
a hole and try and stay on the benefits. They have to wait so long
for anything to happen, they have started to rely on them. The system
needs an overhaul.
You're almost caught up now. I'm
physically in the best shape I've ever been. Cycling, exercising and
a more active life have made sure of that. I'm in a better shape than
I have in nearly 20 years and I'm on the verge of starting my life
again.
I havn't got a set date for moving yet.
But it will be this side of the 2012 Olympics in London. I won't be
going down there on benefits either. When the time does come, all
I'll need to do is find a full time job in Northampton. As soon as
that is found, I can move almost straight away.
I went for a second opinion regarding
that lump I had found a year ago. I was referred to another surgery
where I was to have an ultrasound scan. It would come back negative
for any serious problems. I didn't have cancer of the Tsurav
Ganguly's It was a relief to say the least.
The same day as that scan, my dog
Prince fell ill. It turns out he has heart disease and fluid had
built up in his lungs and on his abdomen. He's actually lay here on
the sofa with me as I type this, getting some much needed rest. He's
on the mend now though after a trip to the vets and some medication.
I don't drink anymore. I've quit
smoking and I have a very healthy diet. My fellow mental Lynsdey and
I are best friends and we go through the good and bad days together.
These good days outweigh the bad days by about 50 to 1.
It's been a long journey for me. My
blogs have probably filled you all in on about 10% of my life.
There's a lot more and who knows, I may write a book one day. After
seeing my blog get 1,000 hits in the first 7 days, I might even make
some money out of it.
Don't worry though, this isn't the end
of my story, or the end of my blog. I'll be delving deeper into
certain aspects of my life over the coming weeks and months and I'll
be doing as much as I can to raise awareness of mental illness. For
those who have read my story, I thank you. The feedback has been
tremendous so far and a fair few people have even found they can open
up to me about their own struggles.
I hope these blog posts will make a
difference in someone's life. I don't want credit for it. I'm not
doing this for myself. If this can change, or even save a single
life. My 17 years of pain will have been worth it.
Remember, the help is there. Don't be
afraid to reach out and take it. Your pain and suffering can end,
without the need to end it yourself.
Finally, I'd like to offer my thanks to
Gary Speed. His tragic and untimely death a week ago inspired me to
tell my story. His death has inspired many to open up about their own
difficulties and we can all learn from what happened to him and make
sure we don't suffer the same tragic end that he did.
RIP Speedo. You will always be a hero
to me, as a footballer and as a human being
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