Apologies for going quiet again.
Feel like I've had to sell my soul to the devil of late just to get the 'system' to understand that this screwed up mess that I'm having to deal with on a daily basis is not my fault. My former employer (who also happens to be my landlord) and my soon to be former bank are making life difficult and today is one of those days when I wonder if I can cope for much longer.
I owe emails and phone calls to friends, yet each day I wake up to yet another letter or phone call or wrongly issued court summons (my landlord is rather good at these) that has be dealt with immediately .... and then I'm left with little brain capacity to communicate or be creative. Even my dream last night was stressful. It's not healthy, is it.
The depression isn't fairing well under these circumstances either... the anger feels ever present, simmering under the surface and it's damn uncomfortable. I'm stuck in that negative victim cycle of thought, and trust me, I'm doing my best to think positive but it ain't easy.
Thankfully some of the money I'm owed has been acknowledged and I have it in writing that I'm getting it. Haven't got it yet, so the compulsive 'check new bank account daily' action has kicked in. The reason it's 6 months late, I'm told, is because they were waiting for the same evidence, the same piece of paper that has gone 'missing' that my former employer should have sent me July 2006. Unfortunately the biggest chunk owed (if I ever get it) is still in dispute, with my former employer passing the buck of responsibility. I haven't even been given my P45.
I don't mind being poor - have spent most of my adult life studying or moving or whatever and you get used to counting the pennies. What's consuming me is the tangle, knowing that I'm left sorting it out when I shouldn't be. And the fact that it's eating away at what little energy I have.
And folk wonder why I don't want to be a part of the system, and instead just want to get the hell out of this country.
We musn't forget the fear of being stuck here for another winter is seeming more real by the day. We are working on Barp as much as we can, but there's only so much that 2 people (or rather one person and his useless girlfriend) can manage in a weekend. I hate this place and all that it means to me. Have never been fond of this country, or happy here and that is much deeper rooted than I could begin to explain. The UK doesn't allow for folk that are 'different'... folk that don't want to own and guard a plot of land, those that want to live their life as they choose and not be tied down. It's no wonder we want to run off and join our fellow folk somewhere else in Europe, rather than stay here stuck in a concrete block getting depressed.
The only real time I fully entered the system was when I started teaching in mainstream schools. It's certainly left a bad taste; not just from the working in the public sector angle which has bad press anyway, but also because the one time I tried to do as I was 'told', with a full time job and responsibility, turned out to be a far worse experience that I ever thought it would be. It's still dragging on now, keeping me here and weighing me down - how much more evidence do I need to tell me that I should stick to my own instincts?
Oh, and they are writing my car off after the accident. I get the chance to buy it back, which I am, but there are procedures to follow and we'll be without transport for a few weeks until it's all sorted. More sodding paperwork. Am starting to feel like a character from Gilliam's 'Brazil'. Not good when we have to drive to Essex and work on Barp at the weekends. She only needs a dent pushing out and a replacement bumper... it's her age that was the deciding factor (the fact that a Ford Escort is still going after nearly 18 years is pretty unusual)
On a much more positive yet sad note, Siren has sold. Probably the most well known of my spiral Hats, and the only one I've developed an attachment to. As much as it makes me sound like a sentimental old hippy, I will miss her. She's winging her way across the Atlantic as I type.
Baba's OK too... think I can feel the first signs of the little one moving - it's an odd feeling, isn't it? Hope the Maternity Psychologist will be up for a chat soon. The 'identity' thing is getting to me ... y'know, the whole life changing aspect and who will I be as a mother etc etc.
Sorry to moan on, I just needed to get some of this off my shoulders.