0 comment Sunday, July 6, 2014 | admin
With the advent of a Languishment which hasn't disappeared even though it's been several weeks now, I've had to do some serious thinking. Actually, that was beyond me. What I did was call the Ex and ask him for help in looking things up to make life at home a bit easier. I've been struggling for a while now because, well, that's just what you do. It honestly didn't really occur to me that there might be an easier way out there, or something available to me to make getting up and down from chairs/cooking/cleaning/personal care a lot less frigging difficult.
So, after Ex went on a rather bomb-dropping tangent during the phonecall (I'm sort of used to this, but I did break in during this latest WTF moment and say 'And you think NOW is a good time to tell me this?' Silence and then a rather meek voice 'Uh, yeah, really bad timing? Wow, no wonder you want a divorce.') we started to piece together a game-plan which will take a few courses.
First off, I am actually getting a panicbutton for reals; a device I wear which I can press if something happens, which will call three numbers with a pre-recording. Then if one of those three people can't get in touch with me, they call emergency services and let them know I am disabled with an autistic child at home. That's something I've been worried about for a while so I'll be relieved it's happening.
Second thing is getting the official proclamation of "disabled". No, I'm not thrilled - however there is also a point where I realise I'm just being incredibly stupid trying to do what I'm doing without ANY help whatsoever. This isn't really helped by the fact that there seems to be a fair bit of help for disabled children, a fair bit more for disabled people, but if you're a disabled parent with a disabled child, you're fucked. Still, I'll get on better than I did if I can get that to happen.
Thirdly, getting a caseworker of some kind to help me through the morass of What To Do Now, and this means many things: can I struggle on for a few years until sprog starts secondary school or do I admit I'm being stupid and have ex take care of him while I move somewhere else? I need to give up the business (yes, it's official, I can't do it anymore) and what happens when the money goes? What else can I apply for? Can I manage to get some care and assistance with getting well? And who minds my child when I do? How do I get funding to adapt the house if I can get it adapted, and how do I do that? What sort of stuff can I get to help me get in and out of chairs, can I get the house repaired (rotting floorboards, naff shower cubicles and all) so I can have a decent wash for once? Would it help to have someone come in and do everyday chores so I have energy to play and interact with my son? And so on. The caseworker may end up being from City Council, but ex is currently looking into options of a private caseworker - more expensive and naturally a whole lot faster, go figure.
There's a lot going on at the moment, and I admit I'm treading water and just trying not to drown under it all. I am less than thrilled that after all this bloody work the possibility is now hovering that all the gardenwork will prove moot if I need to move to a bungalow. But I damn well refuse to bail out just yet. When all other options have been tried, we'll see, but not before. After all this, I want to enjoy the outdoors- the flowers are blooming, I'm harvesting the first food, and I'll be damned if I lose that now.
So, that's where I am at the moment and as a result I think this blog may end up taking an abrupt left turn for a little while. But that's all part of what I'm doing here, in the garden and out of it. Hence the reason for a garden in the first place.
So, after Ex went on a rather bomb-dropping tangent during the phonecall (I'm sort of used to this, but I did break in during this latest WTF moment and say 'And you think NOW is a good time to tell me this?' Silence and then a rather meek voice 'Uh, yeah, really bad timing? Wow, no wonder you want a divorce.') we started to piece together a game-plan which will take a few courses.
First off, I am actually getting a panicbutton for reals; a device I wear which I can press if something happens, which will call three numbers with a pre-recording. Then if one of those three people can't get in touch with me, they call emergency services and let them know I am disabled with an autistic child at home. That's something I've been worried about for a while so I'll be relieved it's happening.
Second thing is getting the official proclamation of "disabled". No, I'm not thrilled - however there is also a point where I realise I'm just being incredibly stupid trying to do what I'm doing without ANY help whatsoever. This isn't really helped by the fact that there seems to be a fair bit of help for disabled children, a fair bit more for disabled people, but if you're a disabled parent with a disabled child, you're fucked. Still, I'll get on better than I did if I can get that to happen.
Thirdly, getting a caseworker of some kind to help me through the morass of What To Do Now, and this means many things: can I struggle on for a few years until sprog starts secondary school or do I admit I'm being stupid and have ex take care of him while I move somewhere else? I need to give up the business (yes, it's official, I can't do it anymore) and what happens when the money goes? What else can I apply for? Can I manage to get some care and assistance with getting well? And who minds my child when I do? How do I get funding to adapt the house if I can get it adapted, and how do I do that? What sort of stuff can I get to help me get in and out of chairs, can I get the house repaired (rotting floorboards, naff shower cubicles and all) so I can have a decent wash for once? Would it help to have someone come in and do everyday chores so I have energy to play and interact with my son? And so on. The caseworker may end up being from City Council, but ex is currently looking into options of a private caseworker - more expensive and naturally a whole lot faster, go figure.
There's a lot going on at the moment, and I admit I'm treading water and just trying not to drown under it all. I am less than thrilled that after all this bloody work the possibility is now hovering that all the gardenwork will prove moot if I need to move to a bungalow. But I damn well refuse to bail out just yet. When all other options have been tried, we'll see, but not before. After all this, I want to enjoy the outdoors- the flowers are blooming, I'm harvesting the first food, and I'll be damned if I lose that now.
So, that's where I am at the moment and as a result I think this blog may end up taking an abrupt left turn for a little while. But that's all part of what I'm doing here, in the garden and out of it. Hence the reason for a garden in the first place.
Labels: Languishment