Tribunal Outcome

Well, the tribunal found against me. I now do not qualify for :

~ Job Seekers Allowance as I'm not able to take any job
~ Employment Support Allowance as I'm not crippled enough under the revised rules and despite having been found to have limited capacity for work under the old rules.
~ Tax credits as I have too few hours work per week (I do 10 currently)
~ Any National Insurance (NI) contributions benefit as I'm not paying (or the DWP paying) NI as I don't earn enough
~ Any income based benefit as I have too many savings
~ Discount on my council tax as I have too many savings.
~ Any discount offered by private companies to the disabled as I can't prove I'm disabled.

I was in continuous employment from age 17 until 3.5 years ago (I'm now 48) and did all of my higher qualifications whilst working full time and, indeed, paying for my tuition myself and without any favourably priced loans available to me.

Now, tell me again, what was the benefit to me of living a responsible life? No wonder folk lie to the 'Social' and go on the rob!

Welfare Reform Act 2011's Impact

The Guardian newspaper published an article on the impact of the disability benefit cuts as enacted on the first of April under the Welfare Reform Act 2011 today. My comment was as follows :

I've had a broken joint in my spine for three years. It went a week after I was made redundant. The DWP were forced to accept I was disabled after my first tribunal. Now, my ESA of £128 per fortnight is gone as I have been like this more than a year and still have more than 16k in savings. Despite this, my claim is still open as the DWP continue to pay one's NI contributions. As the claim is open I still have to attend a second tribunal in a month's time in order to contest a second medical assessment's ruling that though disabled, having a broken spine does not affect my ability to work. Given that I was already in the "limited capacity for work" category, I failed to see how this ruling was arrived at. Apparently the criteria have also been changed. If you can get yourself 100 yards by any means and regardless or whether you possess those means (e.g. wheelchair), you are entirely fit for work. 

I am now 48 and this is the first time I have been out of work since 17. I have applied for over 1000 jobs now and live in an area that, theoretically, has weathered the recession well. I have had 5 interviews in that time, 3 of which could not even be bothered to tell me the outcome. One other told me that in their opinion my previous employer had been under utilising my skills and that I should be seeking work in the 40-45k mark given my qualifications and experience. Those sort of jobs are not exactly thick on the ground in good times, let alone now. I have had zero assistance in getting back to work despite numerous requests for information on "work programmes". I have lost count of the number of applications whereby I have been told that I am not being called for interview because I am "over-qualified". I did have a couple of hours permitted work as a school run escort. I had to stop this as the rules only permit limited work for a year and then you have to either cease your claim for ESA for 12 weeks and then start a new one or cease working for a year! I am living on the monies I put by for my old age so I fully expect to have accusations of being irresponsible over making provision for myself once I get to pensionable age in addition to repeated accusations of trying to cheat the benefits system by certain politicians. Unsurprisingly I am depressed and anxious most of the time.

Ref:// Guardian article

Mindful Meditation

Honey I Washed the Kids

I promised that I would write more about the two health courses I went on last year and have sadly failed to deliver. In an attempt to redeem myself, I am going to share one of my Mindfulness Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) meditations;


Bees a'Humming or "Thanks Lush"

Sliver of soap sat upon my palm,
hexagonal perfection entombed within.
Each chamfered slab sharply cut
and laid against its twin.
One smooth surface a counterpoint
to sticky waxiness against my skin.
Cream flecked in golden mount
bringing Dandelion parachutes
drifting down to verdant lawn.
Heaviness of thought and limb,
breath falling into humming bees.
Memory surfacing of my father's hand,
across a notepad lined with summer blue.

Welfare Rights Bill 2011

I got a letter from the DWP today telling me that if the Welfare Rights Bill 2011 is ratified, then I will get no support from the state from April 2012 until I've eaten through the monies I'd saved for my retirement.

My condition is degenerative so I won't get any better.

I have applied for over 1000 jobs in the 2 years, 7 months since I was made redundant. I've had four interviews in this time, two of which couldn't even me bothered to inform me I didn't get the job. A close second place resulted in the feedback that my previous employer had been under-utilising my skills and that I should be applying for jobs in the £40 to £45k mark. Not many of those jobs about in good times, let alone now. Applying for lesser jobs results in no interview due to being over-qualified!

In short, I have a broken spine, qualifications, experience, dedication to job hunting (I've even applied for jobs the same day as having been in hospital with needles in my spine!), have studied throughout life, put money away for retirement, and whittled away my youth working like a dog only to find myself on the scrap heap at 47, treated like a dole bludging scum bag and left to rot. Well, thank-you very much Mr. Cameron. 

Syria

Oh Syria! The crimes of your security forces do not occur within the shadows of a blackened veil of evil. The world is watching. Those that love freedom will not remain silent, nor ignore the fire storm being unleashed upon your people. Do your rulers love power so much that they would stand on piles of rotting corpses to hold on to it? Shame on you for your "Yes"!


Russia, why do you put your Cold War hang-over ahead over what is morally right? Shame on you for taking the role of apologist!


Iran, you, of all people, should understand the fields of the dead. Shame on you for your support of more of them.


And shame on any of us standing by, mute to the blood spatters and to the wails of the grieving!

Seasonal Blues, Reds or Golds Anyone?

The turn of the seasonal clock toward winter gives me mixed emotions.

Shortening days mean the onset of SAD and a greater challenge in resisting my chronic depression, especially in the darkened cold of January and February. Conversely, there are many simple pleasures: the reddening leaves in October, November's breathlessly crunchy days, Christmas Carols in December and skeletal trees highlighted by lichens and mosses by winter's end.

The onset of Autumn means home grown veggies and jewel hued flowers. I couldn't resist buying a bouquet of butter yellow sunflowers from Waitrose this week, nor the deep pink Asters from M&S. Looking at them makes me feel like I've fallen face first into an artist's paint palette. Their effect is made all the more striking by my placing them in deeply coloured and clashing pottery vases.

From Blogger Pictures

Thinking of those home grown vegetables reminds me of the calorific joys of home-made winter stews made in that most scary of kitchen equipment, the pressure cooker. These are not properly served without a basket of crunchy bread nor of chilly, empty cats wrapped around my ankles as I release the lid. 

Ah, but then my loathing of icy pavements thick with grubby snow raises it's ugly head and makes me want to hibernate 'til Spring. Am I part bear? At times I think so; in temperament if not appearance. Still, at least this last has a rationale in that I'm terrified of landing butt first and doing my dodgy back further damage.

I must finish on a pleasure. My fur friend Nutmeg's shared disgust of the cold means I have toasty toes at night as she curls up under my duvet with me. I could do without her habit of bringing her supper with her though... cat spitty biscuits are as comfy as toast crumbs in the bed!

Building a Better World

Not for the first time, I find myself wishing that the BBC would make their Real Player content available world wide so that all my friends could watch this week's episode of Songs of Praise. As might be expected, it was a commemorative of 9/11 (for one week only : Songs of Praise)

At one point, two young girls talk about their friendship, one Christian, one Muslim. They live in Birmingham, UK and met through a group called The Feast Factor that seeks to promote community cohesion between Christian and Muslim young people.What they have to say about each other and how they have found their differences made for a more interesting and stronger friendship is truly inspiring and very moving (The Feast)

They were followed by the Birmingham Community Gospel Choir (Birmingham Community Gospel Choir) singing one of my favourite country music songs, "Love can Build a Bridge" :

"I'd gladly walk across the desert

With no shoes upon my feet

To share with you the last bite of bread I had to eat

I would swim back to save you

In your sea of broken dreams

When all your hopes are sinking

Let me show you what love means

Love can build a Bridge

Between your heart and mine

Love can build a Bridge

Don't you think it's time?

Don't you think it's time?

I would whisper love so loudly

Every heart could understand

That love and only love

Can join the tribes of man

I would give my heart's desire

So that you might see

The first step is to realize

That it all begins with you and me

Love can build a Bridge

Between your heart and mine

Love can build a Bridge

Don't you think it's time?

Oh, don't you think it's time?

When we stand together

It's our finest hour

We can do anything, anything

Anything, anything

Keep believin' in the power

Love can build a Bridge

Between your heart and mine

Love can build a Bridge

Don't you think it's time?

Don't you think it's time?"

I would also recommend reading Bishop Alan Wilson's blog entry for today : Forgiveness and Healing.