So, Thursday I am meant to have my WCA. I had organised for it to take place in my local Job Centre, I have organised an Advocate, then two. Originally it was meant to happen on August 22, but I had to change it to Sept.8. Then MAXIMUS changed it to Sept.20, but my Advocate couldn’t make it, so it was changed again – to the 29th. Now I’ve been contacted to tell me that it may not be happening on Thursday. They have to give me 3 days notice of a cancellation, but this is not a cancellation for definite, it’s a maybe. So rather than actually calling me, when they actually know what’s happening they phoned me on my mobile and also talked to my Dad to shit me up when they have no fucking idea of what’s going on. My file has not arrived at Ealing from Wembley. They’ve known about my appointment for 23 days or more, but my file hasn’t made it from Wembley to Ealing. Please look up the two on a map. I can see Wembley Stadium from my house. Ealing is closer to the Stadium than I am. They could walk it. They could strap it to a snail and it would be there by Thursday if they tied it to said mollusc now.
I’m angry, but worse, I’m upset. They contacted me when I was out.I phoned them back while I was in a cafe, and now I’m scared they’ll judge me for being out of the house. I don’t know what they said to my Dad, or what he said to them. He’s a rogue element. I was feeling low and exhausted and at the edge anyway, and now I feel like I’m 50% over the edge. I’m so tired. I wasn’t going to bother to get the new additive anti-depressants from my GP until after Thursday, but I may have to now. I’ve run out of Diazepam, bleeding like a pig, everything hurts and there’s nothing in my imagination that can make me feel happy.