oh, he was a cunt of a day … until he wasn’t:

0830 hours: thought – ‘lets get on to the ACC cunts as early as possible and get it over and fucking done with’

0845 hours: action – strong coffee; breakfast made; background – soothing, mindful music (my styles of course)

0920 hours: thought – ‘should probably ring now in case there are long waits ‘on hold’

0921 hours: action – dials ACC.

0935 hours: still on hold, sipping coffee peacefully

0945 hours: still on hold, breakfast finished

0959 hours: still on hold, coffee going cold.

Hangs up and redials.

1005 hours: action – rings ACC cunts, placed on hold.

1015 hours: call centre answers.

‘I’d like to speak to A. I’ve been waiting nearly 2 weeks for her to return my call regarding my claim’

Answer: ‘Let me put you through’

Me: under my breath – ’bout fucking time’.

As ACC twat picked up at the other end, this started a chain of events that reduced Me to tears, then rage, then more tears, then more rage and then tears.

On the verge of giving up, as they had told Me my claim was to be ‘tested for eligibility’ even though it has been sitting with them for nearly a year – I think I sobbed all my snot and tears out and was teetering in between rage and a feeling of necessity to get this sorted.

In amongst all of this I had messaged a friend of mine who has been battling ACC for nearly 6 years after her son was born with CP due to a medical ‘misadventure’. Yep that’s, 6 fucking years, and they still haven’t had any cover from ACC. Anyway, she gave me the name of the lawyer she uses, the one I rang … and told me to not give up and remain positive.

That was enough to turn my rather dwindling feng shui into a grit I haven’t felt in a long time.

Fuck them. Fuck their bureaucratic soul-less bullshit!

It was time to fuck shit up!

So …

I rang the lawyer.

I hadn’t wanted too, partially cos I don’t have the money for a fucking lawyer and partially because my energy for this sort of shit is way under threshold.

I gave the lawyer a 15 minute rundown, which would usually cost a sweet 500 hundy plus, but was done for free as an ‘advice’ session.

He was precise and clipped and let me know what I needed to do, which included emailing the ACC cunts, not speaking on the phone with them, so I could keep a paper trail … and quoting the magic words “It is my intention to lodge a Review for Unreasonable Delay and Not Responding In A Timely Manner”. Apparently those few magic words light a fire under their bureaucratical assholes because the paperwork and time involved is phenomenal and not what they like to do.

So I dropped the email in their inbox at 1325 hours and then had another tear fit … my eyeballs looked like 2 uncooked souffles … not cool.

I felt completely and utterly drained.

A friend messaged me soon after and asked if I wanted to come and have a coffee with her. This would usually send me into an anxiety frenzy but I knew I needed this. She is a beautiful soul and I needed some goodness. So with puffy red eyes and in the exact attire I had been in all morning (sweat and all), I found the car keys – yes … pause for effect lol – and I drove my ass to her house.

Oh my fuck.

Anxiety, panic, headache, dizzy, puff ball and all and I got there in one mother fucking piece!!!!

I had an awesome time … for a few hours actually. I had at least a dozen waves of panic which peaked and subsided. I was holding on to the fact that she’d call me an ambulance if I keeled over lol.

We talked and laughed and caught up and have I said it was fucking amazing!!! Exactly what I needed.

In all that … I remembered what friendship felt like … what positivity felt like, that exuded from those gangtress peeps that I know. She topped up my energy tank.

I drove home and collapsed in a happy but panic fucked heap on the floor and I’ve only just gotten back up at 2054 hours.

I’ve breathed and breathed deep. I’ve medicated and am listening to soothing music.

I survived. I loved. I cried. I raged. I laughed.

I survived.

That was the cunt of the day that turned into the best of days.

Love and mother fucking light to Me!

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


9 thoughts on “oh, he was a cunt of a day … until he wasn’t:

say something ...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.