Like Advent Calendars...Only A Bit Shitter

I got my DLA! High rate for both care and mobility, and it's an indefinite award. Well, indefinite until 2013 when we're all getting reassessed and being given medicals anyway. Then, even those of us now deemed to be so cripped up there's not any point in giving us medicals in the first place must have a medical to save money. 

The brown envelope arrived this morning. Tucked in amongst the pile of student debt letters for my neighbours I knew immediately what it was. I was shaking so much I couldn't pick it up properly and when I did manage to open it I dislocated a finger in the process. Undoubtedly a crafty tactic on the part of the DWP to place one final 'are you really a proper spazzer' test before issuing the good news that actually, yes you are. So spazzed up in fact that, despite the desperation to be seen to catch those 0.5% of fraudsters the Daily Mail love to hate, it's not worth dragging you in for a medical. The psychological impact of being deemed that crippled won't hit for a few days.

It's been four hours or so now since I opened the letter and the shakes are finally diminishing. As anyone who's experienced stress for a long period of time will know, once that stressor is removed there comes a huge rush of anxiety hormones. I may have stopped shaking but I'm still very wobbly, panicky and can't really think too straight. 


At first I was elated. The sheer relief of not having to fill out another form, knowing I don't have to appeal and that I'll be getting more money than before. Actually that dind't come first. Sitting shaking and hyperventilating a bit did. The relief is just about starting to trickle in now...though is regularly being defeated by the wooshing hormones of anxiety still leaving me. In case anyone is wondering, anxiety is bloody awful. Give me a dislocated hip anyday, so long as you keep the anxiety.


The hardest bit about applying for DLA is the need to justify how absolutely, utterly shit you, everything about you and your entire existence is. Even if actually you think you're pretty ok...admittedly wobbly and sometimes a bit dribbly, but pretty ok really. There's no room for ok on a DLA form, it's all about the shit. Sometimes the piss too, but shitting inappropriately will really win you stars on your spazzer wall chart. Like advent calendars...only, well, shitter! 

So erm, yeay me. Officially shit. But my god am I glad to live in a country which still just about holds on to the concept that providing financially for those of us officially deemed crap is the right thing to do. Yeay for the shit! 




Originally posted here