That is the exact amount of bits of paper I received through my front door the other day from the Department of Work and Pensions.
It’s ironic really, because I waited ‘One Hundred and Twenty Days’ to hear their decision in the first place, and now they send me one hundred and twenty pages telling me we’re off to Tribunal Court.
Just what I needed.
I know I said before that I would try not to rant on about my finances, ESA, DWP or ATOS, but honestly, what else am I to talk about when they seem to be controlling my life and the lack of improvement to my mental health!
I have to talk about it and I need to talk about it.
So many people are being mistreated by the government and their wayward systems, it’s disgusting.
I’m so thankful for all the support I receive from my family and friends, because if I didn’t have that support I think it’s pretty safe to say I would be a victim to that famous slogan ‘ATOS KILLS’.
I wince when I say it, and I find it hard to talk about to people, especially those who support me, but it’s so true. I would have found a way out by now and taken my own life, as without my family and friends, I wouldn’t be able to cope with this all on my own.
I feel like a rug on a washing line, being battered senseless with no respite. It just goes on and on, one thing after another. From one struggle to the next.
I couldn’t look at the paperwork at first, my partner had to read it. I just couldn’t bring myself to focus on the words or concentrate on what they meant. It just made me panic, and I didn’t want to panic, so I didn’t look at it.
I knew I would have to devote a day to reading and sorting through it though.
Just me and it.
So on Thursday when my partner was at work, I cleared the table and spread out those one hundred and twenty bits of paper.
I instantly felt drained of all energy and basic knowledge. I had to do it though, I had to read it.
And what a load of rubbish it was! My only thoughts really, was what a waste of a good tree!
All it was, was a copy of everything they are sending to the Tribunal Court. Everything I had already seen and painstakingly worked on before.
From them was a copy of my medical report and questionnaire, with a small section of writing about how they feel my mental health doesn’t implement me enough to stop me from working, and that they won’t be changing their opinion as the only thing they think I should be ‘scored’ on is getting out and about.
As I’ve said a million times before about their ‘findings’, ‘medical examinations’ and ‘personal assessments’… Bullshit.
Also included in my lovely one hundred and twenty pages of a good tree package, was all of my evidence… Sick notes, cognitive behavioural therapy worksheets, a letter from my CBT therapist, a break down of what points they just happened to miss or not mention and a personal statement sharing my most secret and intimate feelings.
Yet, a ‘decision maker’ at DWP has looked at all of this information and come to the conclusion that nothing is stopping me from going out to work.
It makes me so angry, having to prove your fucking nuts, just to score some points on a bit of paper. Don’t these people have any remorse? Can’t they see how degrading and undignified that is? How hurtful it is? And how shit it makes people feel?
It’s hard enough admitting that you suffer with a mental illness, what’s even harder is claiming benefits when you suffer with a mental illness! It’s like having a sign around your neck which says ‘DWP want me to prove I’m crazy. Please feel free to kick me when I’m down.’
I’ve filed the paperwork away for now in my poor bulging filing box. There’s nothing more I can do, because guess what, I now have to wait for a tribunal hearing date.
Oh the joys of waiting!
Oh how it makes me so well! NOT!
I wonder if that will take another one hundred and twenty days for them to get back to me? It seems to be their theme.