the appointment.

delayed update, i know.

it’s been one of those weeks though … fuck it.

the fact i’m actually here, typing away, is pretty epic lol. but may have to do with the fact that i am slightly baked again.

but i’ll get to that soon.

the ACC appointment is worth more than a gold star.

mate … i was fucking awesome!!

which does NOT mean i didn’t snot all over the place or shake like a leaf or look like a leftover homeless person or smell like a giant sweat ball … no in fact, i was all those things, & more.

but …

i got through the traffic prior to the appointment, with my mama driving lol, with only 1 panic attack of a 4-5 on the panic fuck scale. which is pretty good for me. & i was able to short track it by breathing deep & listening to my music & figuring out exactly what it was that was sending me into a panic.

it was the usual … being trapped. not having a choice.

once i’d figured it, i just cried. & felt better.

once we got there, i walked into the building with tears still rolling down my face. my mama didn’t flinch, which is what i needed. she didn’t console me or get nervous or upset; she just let me be. the lady @ the reception looked awkward but i said what i was there for & then sat down. i didn’t wait for her to do her thing … she found me on their schedule & then came round to give me the heads up on wait time etc. i didn’t really listen to her .. & continued breathing.

& it all fucking worked.

it worked because i knew what I was doing. not what everyone else was doing: but what I was doing.

i truly gave no fucks what was going on around me, as in, others reactions to how i ‘appeared’ & that made one hell of a difference.

if i had’a thought about it @ the time, i woulda taken a selfie, cos in hindsight i looked pretty funny. i had found my most comfortable-est clothes to wear & decided to ditch the shoes completely. they make me feel claustrophobic. i had my breakfast in a jug cos i hadn’t finished it @ home; i had a medium sized bag with all my necessary shizz in it.

by the time they were ready for me, i was humming the tunes playing through my headphones ;)

once in the ‘office’ & the psychiatrist had introduced himself, i told him i needed the heater off & the lights off otherwise i wouldn’t make it through an hours appointment. he obliged. i also let him know that im more comfortable sitting on the floor, so if i ended up there, just know … ‘i’m ok’ … LOL!

kudos to him, he was pretty chilled. thank fuck.

& the hour went pretty fast. i swore & talked & ate my breakfast & generally embraced my awesome self lol. i hadn’t rehearsed answers this time so what rolled is what rolled.

how do i know it went alright?

well, i wasn’t committed & i’m here ;) thats how i know.

to say i’m proud of my efforts is an understatement.

cos to add to all this i was having the period from hell (thankyou fertility goddesses … not impressed!), & my tooth had started rarking up more overnight & i’d had the total of 3 hours sleep. by all accounts, i should’a been a curled up ball in one of the corners of the room.

but here i was in all my motherfucking glory, owning my shit like a pro! & it felt good!

by the time i got home, i collapsed into a small heap for about 12 hours, but thats aight. i’m good with that!

the following day i had to make an emergency appointment for the dentist.

i managed that similarly to the ACC appointment; with a few minor hiccups, but that was ok too.

turns out my tooth is cracked right over a nerve hence the excruciating pain. & even though they loaded me with enough local anaesthetic to knock out a horse, i could still feel the pain, so they sent me home with antibiotics & i have to go back next week.

now up shot is: i’m ok. i’m ok with how i did. i’m ok with how i’m handling the pain (which is baked … sunny side up lol), & i’m ok with having to go back.

i figure stressing aint gonna help me in the slightest, so i’m employing some ‘man-sense’ & completely ignoring everything around me ;) so far its working lol.

any who …

high fucking five me! & i’m so stoked with Me i’m gonna buy myself something … not sure what yet lol, but i’m thinking something that looks like a gold star worthy achievement !!!


kpm ©


 

to lawyer or not to lawyer, this is the question

I’ve been pondering on my post assessment, pre assessment assessment (good lord), which is to be done at the end of August. I’m going to need truck loads of patience for that one …

But some well meaning bunny has advised I hire an ‘Accident Compensation Corporation Lawyer’; yes, there is such a thing. These dudes are supposed to get you the best deal or financial arrangement. You see, it turns out the ACC bastards could be up for back paying a hefty sum of dosh out to Me. Partially due to all their fuck ups, and partially due to more of their fuck ups. In a nutshell; because I have been on their books, with an accepted claim, since the early 90s, there should have been a 5 yearly assessment, like the one they’ll do in August. At these assessments, they gauge the money side of things (as in, how much to chop your compensation by) by figuring out your ‘impairment levels’. It’s at these assessments, they also figure out if there is any significant changes.

My last assessment was in 2000 and fucken 4.

I was declining rapidly by 2009; the year when the next assessment was due. If ACC, coulda shoulda woulda, done that assessment, it would be quite plausible that I wouldn’t have been rocking backwards and forwards in the corner of my house by 2012.

By the time ACC had ‘responded’, it was 2014 and I was well and truly fucked by that stage. And they still fucked up the treatment and completely ignored the compensation side of things … hence living on $35 for god knows how many years.

When the psychologist was abruptly cut off, and I was a little more ‘myself’, I laid a big ass complaint with the ACC fuckers. It was a long time coming … and it was more about ‘responding’ for Me. It wasn’t a polite complaint … it read pretty much like I write Here. But it did the trick.

However … nearly a whole fucken year later … I am still waiting. But, the end is in sight … sort of.

So, why the lawyer? Apparently they are able to do what they do and wrangle every last cent of what I’m entitled too, out of ACC. However … they come at a price … of course. It’s usually 20% of whatever I may get as compensation. And not being a mathematician at all, 20% sounds like a fucken lot to someone who gets $35 a week!!

But this isn’t what I’m really having issues with.

For Me, it seems like someone else coming along, right at the end, on a shiny little white lawyer-y horse; to wave a little wand to get results.

I fought this battle.

I fought fucken long and fucken hard. And I’m still fighting.

Do I want to pay some cunt 20% of a sum of money (that isn’t guaranteed yet) for doing 5 minutes of work? Not really.

I think I got most of what I needed when ACC rang and apologised for their giant fuck up. To have that in writing would be even better, but a recording will suffice for now. I get another giant dose of what I need whilst listening to all the ACC twats tip toe round what they say to Me now; and I enjoy not responding to any of the; “We’re terribly sorry for ….. ” …. “Silence (from Me)” … its most satisfying :)

I guess my ‘pondering’ has more to do with …

Am I cutting off my foot to spite my leg? >> No, hang on … cutting off my finger to spite arm??  … fuck knows! Never liked that saying anyway! Makes No Sense!

Am I fucking it up for Myself … yeah, thats what I mean … Just to prove a point?

And even if I am, what have I got to lose?

Money? Reputation? A job? Nope, they’re all gone lol.

You know what … I think I may have just made my decision.

Fuck the lawyer and fuck ACC. I’ll see this bastard through on my own terms :)


kpm ©


 

thats awesome ACC, insert *sarcastic eye roll*

The assessment is back. Noted. Added to the pts(d) is mdd. Awesome.

So todays conversation with the almighty ACC, went a little something like this … hit it:

  • so, you (meaning ACC – thats, Accident Compensation Corporation) will assist with counselling, right?

Yes.

  • and?

You are covered for mental injury, as noted on your new assessment.

  • which means?

We will assist with your recovery from your mental injury.

  • which means?

*Silence.

  • does that include practical help … like, transport to and from appointments?

We can assist with more than 80ks worth of travel in a month.

  • defined as, what?

Your own transport, and we can reimburse a percentage.

  • and if I don’t have my own transport?

We can look at paying for a bus, possibly.

  • pardon?

Where preferable, you should make your own way to and from appointments and we can reimburse a percentage.

  • what about something else, like self defence for instance?

No. We won’t help with physical activity.

  • what about, art therapy, or something along those lines?

We can assist with the recovery of your mental injury.

  • what about helping with future career or job prospects? getting back to work scenarios?

We will assist with the recovery of your mental injury. So, No, not work prospects. We can pay for a Social Worker to assist you with a CV and possibilities for further assistance.

  • Oh, Wow. Now that’s helpful.

kpm ©


 

so … major depressive disorder ay

these cunts and their diagnoses’ *insert very large eye ball roll*:

thats the diagnosis the almighty clinical psychologist has tacked onto the awesome pts fucking (d) label because accident compensation fucking corporation require a label aka diagnosis, so they can ‘assist’.

god knows how long i’ve been waiting now, for this awesome ‘assistance’; and aside from the psychologist last year, i am still waiting …. waiting … waiting.but considering, a tidy 7-9% of mdd diagnose-ees end up toping themselves, you think the long wait is a little ironic to say the least!

do i feel like this added title is some kind of ‘sentence’ … nope.

all i can say to the mdd title, and the rest of the twats that diagnose shit, is …

Not fucking kidding!!

try being sexually assaulted, repeatedly … try understanding the ‘whys’ … try making sense of that shit so you can live some kind of life worth living … go on .. try it …

see if you don’t end up a little Majorly Depressive … pfft.

Oh, and apparently ‘they’ can’t know ‘why’ people actually get mdd … oh, and apparently they don’t know ‘how’ to fix mdd … oh, and apparently they don’t really know shit about shit! awesome …

….

but on the upside … i figure my handle can be updated. Introducing:

Me MD(d), P(ts)D

 

and thats how i deal with that shit … Majorly Depressive-ly, take the piss!


kpm ©