There
was a time, several years ago now, when life challenges wore me very
thin.
A
debilitating long illness, bereavement, loss of job and
relationship(s) left me weak and vulnerable. I was unemployed, on
incapacity benefit, which, in itself had been a journey of shame and
depression, admitting weakness being an uncomfortable thing for me.
When
my Incapacity benefit was cut, following a demoralising assessment,
which left me more depressed, ashamed and despondent, I found myself
considering suicide.
Or,
it's probably true-er to say, I found myself unable to sustain any
belief that I deserved to live. The will to carry on, seemingly
without any support whatsoever, seemed to slip from me and, after an
appointment with Jobcentre plus, at which I was supposed to be
actively seeking work, the viability of carrying on with my life
seemed clearly unattainable.
In
a very odd state indeed, I found myself walking through town. It
felt unreal. There was nothing to hold me here. There was nothing
supporting me or requiring me to live. I guess there is a kind of
freedom in thinking you can end it all but its not a good freedom.
Its hazy, ethereal, ungrounded and highly fragile.
I
wandered to the bottom of the Moor and then up the Moor, feeling
unreal, as if something should be here to stop me. But there was
nothing. Some part of me was grieving me. Some part of me knew
there were tears inside me, for myself, for my life, for a sense of
value and being valued. But there was no one to speak for this. I
had been officially declared unworthy of an income. I had been
officially declared unworthy to live.
I
walked towards Superdrug thinking I would buy sleeping pills.
I
got there.
I
entered the shop.
The
strangest thing saved me. Something beautiful, raw and unlikely .
As
I passed the make-up displays the gay male camp gene , which at the
time was very strong in me, kicked in.
Like
a snarling drag queen, known for their brittle tenacity , something
rose up, spitting and snarling with a flourish of defiance. “Ha!
Why buy sleeping pills when you could buy mascara?!”
And
that was that.
I
left the store with green glitter mascara, and a renewed connection
to all who have been denied, made worthless, cast out and socially
condemned.
I
left the store still fragile, frightened , connected ...and alive.
It
was that slender.
The
line between destruction and survival.
And
not all are so rescued.
I
believe we all need something to hold us here. Some sense of
connection Of care Of love even. We are all fragile. We are all
interconnected. This is why I believe we need a welfare state.
Chrystine
Moon Sept 2013
