I waited until after 5pm on Tuesday to call Capita back to make another appointment – hopefully a home visit, as visiting the centre in town left me drained and anxious. I spoke to a lovely Irish chap who told me that their procedures at Capita aren’t that simple, as the sour-faced woman at the centre put me down as failing to attend my appointment which means my case has to go back to the DWP.
Failure to attend? I WAS THERE. I might have been late, but fucking fuck I was there. And I was close enough to see that her eyebrows were fake and her liquid lipstick made her look like a corpse.
This has left me feeling very anxious, as I’m going to have to call the DWP and explain to them what happened, and pray that they don’t stop my benefit purely because of this. Despite knowing that I would struggle with the clinic appointment, I went to it instead of requesting a home visit right away, or putting it off.
On the same day as my appointment, I went to my Slimming World group. I haven’t been as committed to it in the past few months as I was to begin with. I loved going to group, talking to all the ladies there and I even got into the social team, helping with taking payments and doing the weigh-ins. But once I became focused on getting the job that I no longer have, it fell by the wayside. I spent nearly two months away from group. As well as this, I’ve missed out on writing groups that I’ve enjoyed being a part of, I haven’t been back to my volunteering post since the first half of the year.
I realised something as I sat in group surrounded by some of the loveliest folks I’ve ever met. I don’t know who I am. Even on my good days, I’m still depressed. I’m depressed. I can’t honestly remember the last time I felt genuinely happy. Was it my wedding day? Was it that long ago? Everything is cloudy and very grey at the moment. The one thing I’ve heard a lot lately, is that I look sad. In my eyes, in my stance and demeanour, I exude sadness.
Things should be good right now. But they’re not to me, and it’s a frustrating feeling. I don’t want to be disabled, or ill, or fat, or sad. I just want to feel like I did last year, like I did for the first half of this year. I felt positive, like I was doing some good with myself and my life.
I’m trying so fucking hard. What for?