Moving Drama

A lot has happened in the last month.  


With very little notice I got to move in to MY flat.  It's much bigger than I remembered and will make an awesome flat...once everything is sorted.  


On the first day I sat in the flat in my wheelchair staring out of the glass panels at the trains going past my window.  It must have looked bizarre to anyone looking in (which you can).  Just me, looking bewildered sat in a completely empty apartment in my wheelchair.  


Why was I overwhelmed?  Well, I'd spent so long trying to deal with the bureaucracy that was preventing me from gaining the flat in the first place that I'd point blank refused to emotionally accept that it was MINE.  Now, suddenly I was thrown in the deep end emotionally whilst also having to deal with the practicalities of a move.


It's been over a month since I started living here and I have still not dealt with the move.  Why?  Finances, health and lack of independence.  


Health - My health has taken a major turn for the worst of late...well it *feels* major.  I think all along I was a lot more ill than I realised.  The realisation came some point in the middle of a relapse. An awful relapse that stopped me thinking straight and made me feel like my brain was full of bubble bath...in the thick cognitive fog way but also in a literal sensation way.  I've had old symptoms return, baselines get worse and new symptoms appear too.  This has completely thrown my own ideas of my health.  I have an appointment with an ME/CFS clinic on wednesday but I'm not convinced in the slightest this is chronic fatigue syndrome.  Many of my symptoms are only generally found in the severest patients, those who are bed-bound.


Finances - I don't have enough furniture to fill this place.  I need to get a grant but that's a form and my health has not been allowing this.  Despite the fact that Christmas has just gone, this new relapse has meant I've needed to regularly buy medicines and medical items that I wouldn't usually, therefore all Christmas money has now gone and my debts are increasing. I am not in receipt of DLA due to a clerical error.  I have been putting off appealing because I didn't understand the process when it was their problem.  This may have cost me thousands of pounds but I'm hoping that, given it was their fault and my care needs are so high, I should be able to argue for it to be backdated.


Lack of independence
I've not been able to unpack my boxes because I cannot lift things or sustain much at all at the moment.    I've also been reliant on someone else to liaise with my old house and to be honest, they've been pretty useless.


So currently I have an airbed, a dining room table and some wheelchairs.  Well, it's a start at least.


I intend to write at some point about my experiences with social services, the appointment and how I feel about all of the things that have happened to screw over my healthcare.  

Maybe it's not just the illness

I've been thinking about how being ill has effected the way I think about myself.  I think I've been convincing myself that all of the crap in my life is because I am sick. 


I became homeless because of illness...indirectly.  I was getting crap from housemates at a time where I just couldn't cope.  A lot of the hassle they were giving me was about the fact that I couldn't cope (and that me coping would make it all better), so it just hit a raw nerve.  I was being told that I was perpetuating my illness at the same time the medical profession were making out everything was  psychological.  It was just too much.  I need to remind myself that this is less about the illness itself and more about the things I have learned about other people and the medical profession.  That's something I can learn from, illness is something I don't have so much control over.


I have been feeling as though my life is empty.   Comparatively, it is.  I can't work and my social life is greatly restricted.  I am barely able to practice my musical instrument.  Everything I do has repercussions, right down to making a cup of tea.  But, I am also staying in someone elses pocket.  I don't have access to my books, cds, dvds etc.  My life would be just as restricted as it is now, but it fulfilling be a hell of a lot less boring and a lot more fulfilling if I had these things.


I have been feeling unattractive.  Again, I came here with a weeks worth of things.  I had one pair of comfy, ripped jeans.  I have bought a few things but I just don't have access to all my nice clothes, and everyone needs a bit of vanity don't they?  The other thing is that, I have lost a lot of muscle mass meaning I'm a bit flabby.  I also spend a lot of time sitting down.  If I had more clothing to choose from, I wouldn't be stuck with the stuff that doesn't fit so well.  


The overall stress of being homeless is really taking a toll on me.  I keep contacting the housing association but to no avail.  If I didn't have so much bureacracy to deal with, if I had more time and space to rest, I think I would feel better illness wise too.


Let's see.