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.


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 ©




said in an earlier post that i’d been having quite vivid dreams lately.

another of those awesome (but not so awesome) dreams woke me with a memory. and it is the memory that lingers even now.

as some of you will know, i used to work in a kiddie prison. the government doesn’t call it that of course, but potato potahtoe … it is what it is … a fucking prison as far as i’m concerned.

when i started at this hell hole, i was bright eyed and busy tailed and was ready to take on the world. i wasn’t ignorant but was slightly naive.

realistically though: i was still colonised.

i believed the negative stats that say our people are at the bottom of the heap and the only way we can change that is by assimilating. again, the government cunts won’t state it like this … but it is what it is.

i went into youth justice with the notion that getting them kiddie fuckers early meant that there’d be less damage done. my theory was sound. i hadn’t factored in though, that the powers that be, didn’t and don’t, actually give a shit.

anyway … the memory i had was of a young man that i had sectioned. when i say i, i should be saying the government entity that i worked for. i followed the instructions i was given and did what was required of my position.

what lingered … lingers … in my memory and my gutt though, is how it made me feel and what it did to my body.

it was the first time it like 20 odd years that i had been that sick. true, my health was declining over all at this point … but i got tonsillitis for the first time in like years. so bad, my throat swelled shut and i couldn’t speak.

at the same time my gutt turned and i was vomiting.

little hard to vomit out of a swollen throat. enough said bout that.

and i knew in the pitt of my stomach that i had done something that i neither believed in or wanted to do.

without going into the gory details, sectioning this young man, in my opinion, was about managing him not helping him. it was about getting him out of the way and using the power of the crown to do so.

and i was the instrument that did it.

i had to go to court and back up the statements that were included in the report. and no shit, i could barely speak. not that they gave a fuck.

i remember looking at this kid in the box, thinking: fuck, i don’t even want to be here and i don’t believe any of this shit. and then looking at him and him looking at me like i was betraying him.

i betrayed me really. as well as him.

i didn’t act on my instinct and on my beliefs because they were all up the shit.

honestly, our system was not and is not equipped to deal with young people with mental health issues. aside from the mono cultural bullshit they have to go through that puts them in the position of being misunderstood in the first place – ultimately winding up in a facility like this one … they then have to navigate health issues that this system doesn’t understand and isn’t designed to assist with.

excuses aside, this was one of those moments that had me wanting to head out the door. but i had spent so much time and money studying – i had sacrificed so much to be here, i lamented.

and in the meantime it was destroying me, literally, from the inside out.

what i understood this morning regarding this memory, was i hadn’t just sectioned one of Our kids, one of My kids … i had gone against everything that i believed in … i had silenced myself and done as i was told. i had advocated for the wrong side.

i had silenced my own still small voice for the sake of time, effort, money and sacrifice.

i sacrificed my voice.


my resolution this morning, after this long-winded realisation …

i’ll never do this again.

figuratively or physically.

no matter the cost, i won’t ever be on the wrong side of my own values ever again.

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist