Today was difficult. I went to the drop-in as usual. It’s becoming a daily thing now which gives me a reason to get up in the morning. I was speaking to some people about benefits and so on and it turns out that I can apply for DLA (Disability Living Allowance) online. I used one of the laptops at the centre and registered. I got through the stages of name, DOB etc but then it asked me to describe my illness and I just stopped. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I was in tears and shaking like a leaf. If I react so badly in an environment especially for mentally ill people, I can’t imagine how awful it would be in the ‘real world’.
Marie (one of the staff) found me a number for a benefits advisor so I called them and was told about a woman called Sonia who runs a surgery on Parchmore Road which is round the corner from where I live. She suggested I call up and get the forms delivered to my house because it’s easier than doing it online.
Marie and Remi (another member of staff) thought it was weird that I haven’t been given a CPN or a social worker. I’ve just been left out in the cold. I think it’s probably because I live with my family, but I really should have someone to help me with these things. Once the DLA claim is done then I can apply for a freedom pass for buses, trams, tubes and trains. That will be the most helpful I think because the drop-in centres have really helped me and given me a purpose but the travel is costing my mum a fortune. Especially Purley because it’s two buses either way. Travel is expensive in London full stop but they’re raising fares by another 16% in the New Year. It’s a bloody piss take.
What I found really useful when I was on the phone to the benefits advice line was that she told me to write down absolutely everything. It’s especially hard to get across how much you need help with when it comes to mental illness. For example, they ask if you need help getting yourself up and dressed. Physically no. I am able to dress myself but the woman on the phone says that if I need to be reminded to get up and to get dressed then it counts as help. She said if there was no one to nag you and wash your clothes, make your food etc, would you just stay in bed? I said yes, definitely. If it wasn’t for my mum I wouldn’t do anything. So she told me to write all of those things down. I also find it nearly impossible to cook anything except pasta because I can’t concentrate on more than one thing. My hands shake aswell which means it can be quite dangerous if I’m holding anything hot.
This is all quite daunting really, which is why I broke down. Applying for disability benefits means you actually are ill. I didn’t realise until today that I hadn’t quite accepted it.
Life on the Borderline 