Everything is terrible and I will now complain at length.
My life seems to be crumbling about me and there is little I can see that I can do about it, if I’m honest its been a slow degradation for years (based on recent revelations probably since ‘86), the kind of slow erosion that comes with ‘putting a brave face on’ and not actually being honest with yourself or others about the issue until it’s far too late, but it is only in the last decade or so that the ground beneath me began to fall away.
2007/2008- Is where life started to put the boot in, in earnest, sure my childhood was constructed of a cycle of continual abuse and denial, but there was at least the lack of serious responsibilities that were mine. 3rd year of my degree, placement year, I’d managed to get a placement actually digging, the thing I really wanted to do, I knew it was going to be hard work, I was ready for that, what I wasn’t ready for was everything else.
During the interview I swear blind they told me it would be better to stay in my current student digs and commute, otherwise I would have found a place or stuck with the archiving placement I had (the job I had been looking forward to least, and enjoyed most), but when I started working they asked me why I hadn’t gotten a place in town like the others; so I was grudgingly told to come in a hour late as I was having to commute 2 hours each way. I was commuting by train, and despite my best efforts there is only so much I can do when the trains regularly ran late, if I were to got an earlier one I would be leaving at the same time I would have had to to get there the same time everyone else was, every minuet I was late was held over me, “I checked the timetable and it said it wasn’t running late, so you can’t tell me that is why you weren’t here on time”, despite the fact that the web page doesn’t or at least didn’t work like that, it didn’t update in real time. I did my best to work hard to make up for it, pushing myself more than was perhaps healthy, I constantly got sent to the far edges of the site or the less important ones, partly because the others hung out with the superiors after hours (I had to leave directly after work or I had an hour wait in a cold section of station for the next train) so wanted to work together, partly because later on as everything began to wear me down I began to make mistakes. I ended up on the one section of site that didn’t get sun and stayed frozen all day, while the others dung in slush, I had to mattock off the topsoil, and then literally froze to the ground while working. As it went on I began having trouble getting to work, constantly feeling exhausted, the site’s placement manager kept asking if I was on meds, as it turned out the student accommodation I was living in had an integrated vent system, and the people who were stealing my food (like all of it constantly to the point I lived off of cans I kept in my room), were also blowing their pot smoke into the vent thinking they were getting rid of it, but actually just spreading it everywhere else (the building managers just ignored our complaints), I would get in at a little past 7pm go straight to bed, they would spark up at 11, I would get stoned in my sleep then had to get up at 5am to get to the station, while feeling like shit, vomit on the way there (every day), and go to work where I was given the shit jobs and made to feel like I didn’t svn deserve them. I discovered the problem when I got in late one day, reported this to my manager, who accepted my report but clearly thought I was just smoking and lying about it, I got put on revue a few months in, told if I didn’t improve they were ceasing my contract, the main part being I could never be more that 15mins late (unless there was something obvious like the flood that they couldn’t deny mad me late), and I threw my all at it, I really wanted this job, I ran from the station each day, I got put on office work digitising all the hand produced plans, and collating all the data collected, within a week (or possibly 2) I had taken the stack of leaver arch folders and transferred them all, I worked faster than any of the others that occasionally joined me, but no less accuratly, to the point where they just left me to it and reassigned the others, in all that time there was one day I was later than the 15min allotted because there was trouble on the line, but it was not reported on the site so I was lying, at the end of the revue period (either a week or a month I am not sure anymore) I was told that I still wasn’t trying hard enough, and clearly didn’t want this job and at the end of the week I was being fired. Perhaps I would have fought that harder if it were not for the fact I had spent all the meagre grant I got that year and all my savings, I literally did not have enough to keep coming into work, the next day I was even planning on handing in my notice, which I did, and the bloody manager let everyone believe I left because I didn’t want to be there, didn’t mention they were going to fire me, didn’t mention I had run out of money, so whenever I ran into any of them I kept getting asked when I was coming back or why I didn’t want to, I broke my spirit to be turned away, it broke my heart that I couldn’t go back.
My dissertation proposition was accepted tun immediately changed by my tutor making all the work I had don in preparation over the last year (that I might add we were only told we /should/ have ben doing the next year) completely invalid, in fact what I was actually doing was not what I submitted (and I have a suspicion my idea was given to a masters student), but the research paper my tutor was supposed to have written, he then changed the topic on me three times, the last ‘because I was struggling’ was just to academically tear apart a book they disagreed with, which they tun proceeded to leave for a month with the only copy available (it was a niche german translation that was his personal copy, as there wasn’t on in the library system). I failed the year on two points; the first unsurprisingly was the dissertation th second was due to something that had happened in second year, a group project; we had had to submit the time spent on a presentation for each person, one person without telling anyone had summated it, claiming that I hadn’t done much as I only had to make the power point, (the fact that I had to do all the research for it as none of them had done theirs until the night before meaning that I would not have been able to make it if I had waited was ignored), I went to see the lecturer he basically told me I was making a fuss over nothing and told me not to report it, I didn’t and failed that module because of it.
After I failed my dissertation I decided to seek help from the education aid people. I had gone in my first year the test had crashed on me but instead of restarting thy told me to continue, then based on that info look at the below average english and maths and the way above average comprehension and told me that the percentages were balanced out so they wouldn’t help me, as I wasn’t ‘bad enough’, because of my comprehension they expected me to scrape by, instead of helping me excel. When I went to see them that second time they denyed ever seeing me, turns out my second year a new system and staff came in but no one had bothered to tell returning years, so just told me I should go do the self assessment program that I /should/ know about, so I did and the next day received a panicked email to come in. and so began the most hurried passage through paper work and assessments, in the most frenzied arse covering I had ever seen, they fucked up and knew it, and I’m pretty sure the only reason they passed me (at the bare minimum) was so I couldn't sue or apply to redo the year (which the uni would have to pay for).
The Student loans contacted me during my dissertation year, told me that I shouldn’t still be in education, long story short the entire year was a battle with them (which really helped with the academic struggle), they fucked up my paperwork 3 times until they could ‘legitimately' re-asses me by the new pay scale and then demand a thousand pounds ‘over-pay’ back, I had to red submit a copy of the original signed agreement before they would admit the fuck up was theirs, they almost stopped me graduating by refusing to pay the last instalment for my course, then proceeded to lose the proof every year after and harass me for the money until I resubmitted it, until on year after a move I couldn’t find the paperwork.I kept getting them contacting me every few months to see if I had a job yet, constantly intoning that I legally had to tell them if I did, implying they thought I was hiding it, constantly referencing the signs agreement, I constantly bit my tongue from pointing out they had already reneged on their side. Finally my parents set up the minimum pay per month to get them off my back, but they still contacted me every year to ‘check I could be paying more’ despot being explicit ally told to remove my mobile no and given alternate contacts they still phone me, even when my father went on record with them saying I tried to kill myself (which was partly untrue, though not entirely) so stop calling that no. use the one he supplied.
Once I graduated I tried to find work, eventually I was forced to sign on, I applied for all the jobs that were viable in the first week, and spent the next few meetings being threatened with sanctions as I had not applied to the minimum I was set, regardless of the fact they had not got any new listings, it was in that time one advisor asked why I didn’t apply for a job at a pharmacy as it had training, I had to point out that in the spec it required a degree in pharmacy. I got chucked from employment initiative, to initiative, pretty much always either the oldest, the one with the most qualifications, or both, I restructured and re wrote my CV so often I had around 8 different variations, each purportedly the ‘best version’. Finally I got chucked to the government program that paid places (specifically not for profits and community programs) to employ people, I got taken on to archive the records of the incredibly old local theatre, but in practise redecorated rooms, worked box office, ushering, tech, display, and trued desperately to keep the records and artefacts safe from the skipping clear outs, or the artist’s collective that had previously used original 30’s score sheets as wallpaper. I loved my team and the building, the management was a shambles and the manager a crooked fucker who was skimming the theatre’s funds and staffing his business with those supposed to be working at the theatre, part of the employment initiative was that if you found staff that worked well you could fill a form and keep them on and the council would keep paying them to do so, but he worked out he could get more by overlapping the employment, taking on new staff a few weeks early so ‘the old staff can train them’, considering the money that was allocated to send us to training had mysteriously never appeared, we were all working untrained and unlicensed, and I suspect in several cases illegally. We were told by both dole and theatre that if we keep volunteering we may get jobs later, several months down the line I nearly lose my isa because they never issued me a p45, and that I was volunteering more hours that was legal without pay so- they were going to stop my money because I was doing enough work to justify pay but wasn’t being paid, and this was my illegal action not the place refusing to pay me, so they were going to take my benefit away for being used.
While I was working I had one landlord decide that after owing it, they would rather than renew the contract with a name switch (one person out new person in) that they wanted a new contract, but to do that we had to move out of the house for a week before we could start a new contract, which would leave us with nowhere to go for a week so we had to start looking for a new place for when the contract was up, this was the week of xmas, the contract ended in January/February. I managed to, with a couple of people I knew from Uni find a shitty place in the run down part of town, I spent the entirety of my inheritance on the exorbitant safety deposit & first 3 months rent required upfront, & white goods for the unfurnished place. That place broke me, partially the problem was personality clashes, but what person waits till the weekend someone goes away, to text them once they are away, to say they have decided to unpack your stuff and throw things they decide are rubbish away without your convent or presence? I lost stuff while there, the move had ben so fast I had just had to sling stuff in black bags, they had a habit of half filling rubbish sacks and leaving them lung round, then grabbing what they thought was a bin bag and chucking it, not to mention when I finally moved out deciding some of my stuff was theirs.
So I go to York because my parents have been paying my rent and figure moving me in with my brother will be cheeper, and my uncle has paid my fees to go back to Uni in york and try to retrain, so I have to be there anyway, we find a nice place, find an uneasy equilibrium. Only the rent is more than expected, my brother changes job and it pays less, parents too are having a hard time, especially when they get broken into (because the neighbour leaves the gate open that lets them in to the back, then when the banging starts assumes they are workers because they wear gloves, and he is a fucking moron.) So while I am trying to manage Uni we start getting pressured to find a new place, weekends being dragged around places far out of town, finally we settle on the least objectionable (or so we thought at the time) place, it is (supposedly) agreed that we will take the move slow, allowing us to decorate and move things in and unpack systematically so we don’t end up living around boxes. The guy trashes the place before he goes, still haven’t fixed all, then after a few weeks of spending a weekend trying to organise we are told that we are moving when the rent contract comes up for renewal (it was a monthly one) in a few weeks, that we should have finished sorting the place by now somehow between my uni work and his actual work (his then job being rally crappy for overworking him), so during the time when I had to be doing work for all of my courses (they issued it all at once quit often) I instead had to throw things into boxes and mov into a half done house. Then my father decided instead of letting me build our ikea kitchen or pay ikea to install to get a cowboy in who constantly needed watching and still fucked it up, I got bad grades that term unsurprisingly.
I was getting academic help in my first year, and I was explicitly told that I didn’t ned to re-apply each year, that was a lie, they also failed to tell me that they could back pay after application so instead of going almost a year without help because I couldn’t handle the work, the move, and the form all together, I could have seen someone to help me apply. When the form was finally sorted 2/3 of the way through they didn’t give me help for the last 3rd when I really needed it, someone fucked the paperwork up and applied it to the next year instead of the one I was in. Then the course I was on was slowly bing dismantled, lecturers were unprofessional, and I got repeatedly stuck with a group that did no work took all the credit and gave me all the blame.
The house is too small for the two of us really, I don’t have any storage because while we were out father bought a mattress off the back of a lorry for a bed that I wasn’t going to use as it filled the room, but the money for a new bed just went on that mattress, so I lived with things stacked in piles on the floor, most stuff was in the living room, most stuff was still in boxes as neither of us had the time or storage space to unpack. The my father decided he liked York transferred his job here without discussing it and moved him and my mom into the living room ‘temporarily’. It took almost 4 years for them to find a place to move into (selling the only family home I had ever known, again the actual move was in a rush without time for the rest of us to deal with things properly, things were left behind that I now try not to think about).
But those intervening years worsened my personal brain glitches, that began forming during that terrible placement year, to the point that I can only make my environment worse, I don’t have the capacity to ‘fix’ things, because it takes all my energy to not focus on the things that affect me; the kitchen doesn’t work right, the lights are mostly piped, the bathroom is full of mould and often sprinkled with other peoples hair clippings, my nice mild sented soap is impregnated with my brother’s lynx and my father’s shower gel that makes my seances hurt, my room feels like it closes in on me, the mattress & the sofa bed are both broke so wherever I sleep I hurt. I can’t cope with anything, and just freeze up, I don’t have the spoons to fill out the isa forms and honestly think I would die if I had to go back there, I grid to apply for jobs but it just wasn’t happening, finally the last of my confidence went when: the day after a row that ended with me walking out of the house, then being dragged back by police as a missing person, I crashed with friends, and knowing I needed to get out, and as such needed a job, took a cv in to a store a friend worked at and knew were going to be looking soon, I went all over town that day looking. a few days later I stopped back in just to check the cv had gotten to the manager (whom I also knew) and was told that I had somehow ‘left a bad impression’ by quietly asking someone at the till to leave a cv at the desk so I wasn’t loitering in the store waiting for them to get back, and would not be even getting an interview.
I hav always had ups and downs, but recently I only seem to have downs and plateaus, I am supposedly on a waiting list for help after the police intervention but it has been a year, and nothing other than an offer to join a drugs trial that may cause suicidal tendencies (no thanks). I hurt all over, am always tired, have had constant problems with my digestion and intestines since infancy, but always get dismissed for being over weight despite the fact it seem increasingly likely that my weight is a symptom. I have a lump on a tendon that always hurts but have been told is nothing, the last time I sought help instead of what I was there for got lectured bought my weight, despite the fact that I was there because I hurt myself being active and eat a mostly pescetarian (and gluten free) diet. I just don’t have the energy to anymore to keep having my pain dismissed, or the cope to seek out another practice.
Recently I discovered part of the reason I was always ill was gluten, so now any supplies I need cost more, and often taste horrible, and being now entirely reliant on other people, am constantly reminded of how much I am costing, and asked why I can’t just sort my life out. I spent my xmas money this year as pretty much every gift money has been for several years, on just grabbing supplies so I don’t have to ask for something for a few more days, despot the fact I was trying to save for something I really need.
In the last year or so i have finally realised I am queer, I identify as non-binary but am currently in an internal battle with the fact that I am feeling more and more male. I really want a binder so I can see how it feels being read as male, and was hopping I could get on with gift money hence asking for it, as I have tried to talk to my parents about it and have been ignored or met with concern and confusion.
My mother told me at xmas that my father has fuck up the finances, so they are in trouble, she is currently selling off her things to try and get cash. She had a cancer scare this year, and my father seemed to only see it as an inconvenience, so on xmas day when the two of us were alone she confide in me that she wants to leave him, that she has just been pretending for 30 years, because she had no other place to go and no money, but has finally decided to just go as her time may be short now. I am 30.
I have tried to find work but no one wants me, I have tried to set commissions for my art but I am terrible at putting myself forward, and am torn between charging what ppl will pay, and charging the correct amount for work done, and the fact that I always del like my work is inadequate, I considered patron, but I don’t have faith anymore that I could reliably produce content anymore, plus my laptop and tablet are breaking and stopping working more and more, soon I won’t even have them as an outlet. I have even considered crowd sourcing, gofundme or similar, but I am terrible at asking for help, and don’t feel worthy of charity anyway.
Money everything comes down to fucking money, I just want out but I can’t afford to, my family are falling apart and increasingly can’t afford to support themselves, I just can’t anymore…. I just...
Don’t mistake me, this isn’t a sob story to beg for assistance, this is just needing to not hold this inside anymore, because I need in the worst way to scream, this is my voice, this is my scream into the void.
