DisabledAceSocialist [comrade/them]

  • 8 Posts
  • 21 Comments
Joined 2 months ago
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Cake day: September 21st, 2024

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  • Yes. I’ve got nothing and I’m resigned to the fact I’ll never have anything. After years of cancer treatment that caused me to have a stroke, which has left me partially sighted and unable to walk properly, I was no longer able to work or study, and now spend my life going through endless disability benefit claims and appeals (because they reassess me stupidly frequently), scavenging for food and on the brink of homelessness while going through these appeals. Due to my illness I lost any chance of a normal life, no career, no family. I consider myself ace but I could still have had a family of my own. Now due to my health it’s too late. I can barely look after myself anyway. My friends all drifted away as my illness wore on and I was no longer able to go out much, so I have absolutely no social life whatsoever. Due to lack of funds I can’t even do simple things like rent films I want to see on amazon. I’ve accepted that my life is pointless, meaningless and miserable. But why does the government have to make it worse with these endless benefit assessments? The constant poverty is the one thing I can’t accept. I’m just eaten up with anxiety about it all the time.
    The only way I get through life is living in a fantasy world most of the time. I’ve built up this elaborate fantasy life in my head where I’m healthy and happy, surrounded by friends and having a great time with no financial worries. In these daydreams I go surfing and skydiving, have the best mates ever and am full of joy and life, everything is always sunny and I’m always young. The only way I can cope with reality is by imagining it away.

























  • Thanks but I feel bad about using it again when so many others are there needing help. Also I’m worried people might get compassion fatigue from me if I use it too often. I am pretty desperate though, I don’t know. How often do you think is OK?
    The NHS has let me down even worse than that - it took them three and a half years to diagnose my cancer. They refused to do any tests initially, saying I was “too young for it to be anything serious.” They diagnosed me with depression and gave me antidepressants. When that didn’t work they said I was a hypochondriac. Meanwhile I was slowly dying of cancer. Also when I was finally diagnosed they said the recommended treatment didn’t have any side effects. Then when I had a stroke and developed heart problems they were like “Oh yeah those are side effects of your meds.”