next part ..

im preparing for another assessment, pre-review.

yep.

another one.

in just over a weeks time.

the difference is this will apparently be ‘independent’.

*deep sigh*

i note my body is tired. my brain is tired.

my heart / chest / emotions i think .. they’re tired.

almost tired like when i first moved out to the beach, but with less anxiety. so thats a bonus.

im thinking some of it is my age now. & some of it is just the repetitiousness of it all.

as in, here we are again, assessing ME.

not him. not the cunty pedo fuckface.

Me.

we’re assessing the psychological & physical damage. the injuries.

Again.

*another deep sigh*

maybe tomorrow i’ll feel differently, yah know, all positive & shit.

but today .. im just tired.


kpm ©


 

Image

update: the occupational assessor person slash meeting.

she wasn’t quite what i expected and that was good.

but the point of this update is to brag about how fucken awesome i did prior too, throughout and after the assessment.

back story: cos i don’t think i’ve given an explanation …

AC fucken C’s process includes an occupational assessment. long story short: if i went back to work tomorrow, what kind of job could i do.

no where in that story is there room for the fact that i can’t leave the house with the ease i use too, can’t drive, can’t do people with ease, don’t do talking or social situations, can’t do bright lights or loud noises … oh, or have pts(d) … the ‘injury’ that they cover for.

ffs.

so, after being contacted by this woman a couple of weeks ago, freaking out and then getting my head round it all, i emailed her, let her know my situation and we arranged for her to come to me. i also arranged that any long winded questions be done by email so that i have time to answer without it being to taxing on me feng shui.

she was obliging and understanding.

so when she came, which was yesterday, our ‘appointment’ was 30 minutes long instead of the possible 2 hours long. she was quick and precise and exactly what i was able to handle.

prior to her coming here on the day, i did nice calming shit … good coffee, relaxing music … and made sure i was comfortable in every way. i asked the partner to stay home so he could just be around if i needed him, not in the meeting itself. and he did.

a half hour before she got here i could feel the anxiety building, so i swapped out the music for something more ‘lively’ lol, and got all the things that i would usually take with me in the car. i had my orange, and antihistamines, water, music, ear plugs, head phones, anti anxiety meds … i made sure i sat on the floor in ‘my spot’ and had the fan going.

i wasn’t overly pleasant but i wasn’t rude lol, so that was a win … for her ;)

after the meeting was done, i felt physically exhausted but i knew i was alright. i made sure i did something nice for me (chocolate lol) and took it easy for the rest of the afternoon.

and it all worked.

i was fucken stoked!

i was proud of me :)

if i can replicate this process for other appointments, engagements, meetings etc, the world is my oyster! lol … okay, slow down there champ … lol

yah get my drift though.

it feels like progress. huge progress. and i am good with that!


kpm ©


 

done and done

I had my big ass assessment this morning … holy hell, what a mission. I was nervous … so nervous, my tummy has been in knots for days.

But now its over, thank fuck!

Aside from the obvious, which I survived to tell the tale, I gleaned a few tidbits I am ruminating on.

  1. Our health, particularly our mental health, system, is fucked. As per usual, my descriptions are ‘layman-womans’ terms. Now this news is nothing new; however today I got another awakening to just how stitched up everything is. After wading my nervous, semi sedated self through the myriad of questions relating to ‘permanent impairment’, I discovered that our health system rates permanent impairment in levels. Under 30% permanent impairment means – whilst you may not be able to hold down a job, or drive, or socialise, or talk on the phone, or be alone, or leave the house – if you are not in an institution and on medication, you are fine. Another words, 30% is the cap before they haul you off to the nut house and jab you with drool inducing meds. As this reality dawned on me during the assessment, 2 things happened.
  2. I became very aware that I didn’t want to rate over 30%.
  3. I became very aware that the likely-hood of receiving anymore than $35 a week for ‘permanent impairment’ was nil.
  4. Which brings me back to point 1.

I left that office slightly grateful that I hadn’t been institutionalised at any time. It would have killed me if I had. I shit you not. Me – Caged? Fuck No. It can’t happen.

But I was also very aware that my dance with ACC is grinding to a rather unproductive halt. It has been an exercise in asserting and flexing my rights, for sure. As far as having a productive outcome … well, apparently I am entitled to a life times worth of counselling slash psychologist intervention. Oh and mind bending medication if I so wish to be mind bent.

What struck me whilst answering all those rather intrusive questions, was that interacting with ‘the health system’ makes me feel more unhealthy. How is that possible? I’m unsure. Maybe because with every question about concentration or socialisation, I am trying to figure out what is deemed as normal. No I don’t interact with many people. But on a whole I don’t find people very interact-able. When I tried to explain this, I actually ended up sounding reasonably mad – even to myself lol.

You see (and I’ve talked about this before), when I go somewhere – meet people -just enter a place really – theres a shit tonne of things that happen. I was trying to relay this reality today.

When I arrived for my appointment, this is what I noted:

  • There are two large slow moving sliding glass doors to get into before you enter.
  • Not an easy exit.
  • 2 ladies sat at the front desk.
  • Mellow, low, horrid music in the background. It’s source was in the corner of the foyer.
  • 1st woman recked of cheap perfume.
  • 2nd was more interested in her lunch. It was 8.50am.
  • The lights were seedy. Lots of them. Meaning it was bright.
  • No open windows.
  • 1 door open, to files room, to the left of me.
  • Waiting room – large, hospital set up.
  • 2 large ugly pictures on far wall.
  • 2 framed ‘signs’. 1 about phones and photos.
  • 1 large ugly picture behind me.
  • toy box to the right in the corner.
  • water cooler far left.
  • it smelt dusty but cleaned.

And thats not the office. And this is me on an unobservant day.

So hows my concentration?

I don’t know how to answer that.

What I know is, it’s all fucking tiring.

Anyways … I am here … I survived. I still hate the system and I’m still unsocial lol.

On a lighter and nicer note: We are now waiting for the impending birth of moko #5 :)

My partners daughter went into labour this morning and this is her first baby. If she’s anything like her mother, her labour and birth should be quite short. But bubbys have a way of doing what they please :) It was moko #4s 3rd birthday yesterday, so we will end up with 2 birthdays close together which is kinda cool.

Right, I’m going to find some chocolate and make a cup of tea.


kpm ©


 

you did what? … well that was fucking awesome! … good on yah!

Said No-one ever … well not today anyway … well alright, slightly over dramatised … said no-one today, that mattered anyway!

Why the tanty??

I had a gi-normous day today … profoundly difficult and profoundly victorious, in more than one way!

The long-awaited ACC assessment – that I laid a complaint about – that has taken approximately 3 years to get – that may see my $35 per week grow by … a little bit more, hopefully – Yeah … well that; I had that today.

I have been nervous as fuck about it for the past few days as I found out I had the appointment on Friday for today. Usually I’d kick up a stink about that, cos I need a hell of a lot longer to prep for shit like that … but cos I’d waited so long for it, I agreed to it … and have quietly prepared ever since.

I wasn’t going to write about it or talk about it with anyone … didn’t want to jinx the process ;)

But I prepped. Made sure the partner was available to take me … got my ‘kit’ ready … downloaded travel appropriate, distraction, ‘happy’ music and tried to relax. In between ‘quakes’ I tried to remember that this has been a long time coming and I wasn’t going to miss it … I’d ‘medicate’ if need be, just to get Me there.

I had about 3 hours sleep last night, but remained calm. And somewhere in between planning what to wear and finding at drink bottle at 4am, I had a thought ..

I’d been discussing with a fellow blogger, my dislike of the wind … earthquakes etc … that they were ‘unpredictable’. She said something interesting … to the effect … that a tree ‘bends’ with the wind, it doesn’t stay rigid. In all my planning for the unpredictable, I had severely taken the ‘joy’ out of everything … well was hard pressed to find any joy actually. Well as I was planning what to wear, I headed for the comfortable shit first … reason … less hassle. Then I found a dress I hadn’t worn in ages, and it made me smile. So I found my old leather jacket and my sneakers to wear with it … and I smiled again. I actually felt good. When I woke up at 8, after my hour’s nap lol … I looked outside and it was pissing down with rain, that I don’t mind, but it was also windy and fucking freezing! My lovely little dress was not going to cut it … at all. Fuck fuck fuckaroo … was the track I was heading down, cos my well thought out plans had been fucked up by nature … again … when I remembered the ‘wind’ analogy. So, moments later, whilst sitting on the toilet, I was trying to figure out how to ‘bend with the wind’, and enjoy it … fuck!

After my business, I headed back to the room where my lovely little dress was all laid out … put it away … and tried to find something else that would make me smile … and I did :) Another dress, not anything like the other, that I hadn’t worn in like, forever … then i found a top and some nice red stockings … matched them up with my leather jacket and sneakers … and wahlah!! I smiled … I had just learnt how to bend it like beckham instead of having a panic attack because my shit had been disturbed.

Hurdle 1, done!

I went about my morning routine … coffee … coffee … breakfast and … coffee; I did the shopping online to be delivered when we got home … and then lo and behold, Mr bursts out of the room, hollering “How much did you spend on shopping, I’ve only got $40 left … fuck it all” and proceeded to have a man-sized tantrum.

Now usually, at such a pivotal time and moment for Me, I’d freak, toss my cookies, cancel any appointments and have One Outs with big mouth. ‘Don’t you fucken talk to me like that’ … ‘I spent as much as we needed’ … ‘My spending is our fucken spending, don’t fucken forget that , cunt’ … ‘Where’d the rest of YOUR fucken money go then?? Oh that’s right, you didn’t pay Your fucken parking ticket, or Your doctors bill … both went to the fucken debt collectors and Yes that’s right, like I said last fucken week … If you don’t pay those bastards they will take what you owe out of your pay check!!’ … ‘Fucker’ …

But instead, feeling rather ‘bendy’ … I breathed … focussed on the fact that I needed to get to my appointment and this cunt was my ride … but like fuck was I going to be intimidated by a man size tantrum or engage in any kind of discussion re ‘missing’ money right … now. I needed to do ME. So I did the only rational thing I knew … and I ignored his funky ass.

I continued to get my shit together … I got in the car … turned on my music and sang as loudly and joyously as I fucking could … I took photos … I breathed some more … I sipped on my water … and I sang even louder.

I had given him previous instructions of which route to take to minimise stress, and he did. Good.

We got to the appointment early and Partner sat in the car … trying to sulk. I looked at him and said ‘I told you I need you to come in with me until I’m settled, then you can go’ … he reluctantly got out of the car and came in with me.

It was a Psychological Assessment … Impairment assessment thingy … I got to re-live my history of sexual assault as a child … with details … dates … positions … feelings … faces … Yeah … I got to re-live that shit again, because that’s how these cunts like to assess shit. It went on for nearly 4 fucking hours.

The Partner stayed for the first 10 minutes then left. Fine.

I did what I needed too.

I lined up the coasters on the table … I fiddled with the ornament in the middle of the table … I took off my shoes … moved my seat … turned off the down lights … announced that I’d be swearing liberally as that’s how I talk usually and trying to be polite only gives me a headache … The psychologist nodded his approval … not that I was looking or asking for it.

But that’s what I did. 4 hours later … I was fucked!!

When I left the office I felt like I had been run over by a bulldozer … my eyes were blurry, I was shaky and nearing tears. But I had expected that … and prepared … with chocolate chip cookies … which I ate all the way home … whilst listening to my music … again. I had one slight panic attack at the lights but had brought an ice pack for my face … that helped.

So while I was stoked to have ‘completed’ this mission with minimal ‘after effects’, sort of … I was waiting for a “How did you go dear?” … “Are you OK?” … “Do you want a cup of tea?” … something.

But I got nothing. Not a word. Not an encouragement. Not a fucking high-five … nuddah!

Usually I would be devastated but I think I’m too fucked to give 2 shits really … but it has fucked Me off … and it is something I’m going to address with his Royal Sulkiness before the week is out ….

After, I have taken care of Me.

After, I have High Fucking Fived my own shit.

After, I have bought myself a bitching coffee from the Cafe tomorrow.

After, I’ve finished listening too and posting all the songs that make me feel OK.

After, I have finished going on about it on My Blog.

After …. after, I have done right by ME.

Not cos no other cunt will … but in spite of it … and because …

I fucking deserve it … and I deserve an explanation.

I won’t be treated like that and let that shit slide. Not anymore!

—– The one compliment I did get today, which I took … was from the psychologist. As we were nearing the end of all this shit … He looks up, moves his glasses down his nose, and says with quite an interested and stern look … “How the fuck are you still ‘here’?   … You have a strength that is rare … do you know that?”

I cried.

Told him it is Stubbornness.

*(noting that he had dropped the F bomb … Yuss lol)


kpm ©