I've talked more than a few times now about the bureaucracy behind the scenes and how that language and deception drives me to insanity. Because I have inadvertently shared this website with someone helping me who actually asked if these so called telling's of mine were public, I think I will put another spin on how it is that I am so close to giving that all up and perhaps share why it is that I feel so trapped:
Whilst my idealizations are not as intense or intended as they once were with the petrol can episode where I confronted the manager of an employment agency which resulted in police intervention and my subsequent Rubber Stamped Response AKA Disability Pension. Fact was when I did attempt to go back looking for work I was told I was no longer a priority. Yet another conflict as I was led to beleive that I would find more schemes that could assist more with finding employment if I as on DSP. In the end I accepted the clinical technician/therapist's (that was used with said stamp) take in allowing the pension to be used as a form alleviating pressures that was sending my over the edge. Given the extreme amount of reoccurring conflicts on ongoing inconsistency with what I eventually termed as 'Living the Lie' I decided to no longer participate as doing so was clearly killing me. My brother would be dead 2 years on from this point having been misunderstood and enduring said system not unlike me.
I was actually a disability support worker a few years before the petrol can episode and it was then with my first ever brand new fancy car that I made the trip to visit him. The housing commission estate he lived in looked more like a prison yard lined with small units and when viewed from the open grass area, looked more like cell blocks with broken shattered bottles and broken windows. At night the noise was quite disturbing with all manner of disputes constantly being amplified. It was clear to see why people were using drugs to dull the suffering. My brother literally had one of those coats that when opened up had a pharmacy of pills to choose from not to mention the home grown and synthesized stuff. Long story short, as the story goes - my brother gravely says "I will be dead long before you." It broke me when he said it because the way he said it and what I had seen all the years later after decades of hard knocks I sensed it in my bones to be true. I was not in tune with what I was seeing in my line of work and as much as disheartened as he. Although we had different fathers and looked completely differently we were known to have an identical pitch and pace in the earnest way we both spoke and expressed.
I lost my job not long after returning and the same conflicts I was dealing with in the employment agency was as rife in the disability sector I was working in. When I expressed as much on paper I was quickly sacked without the support of my coordinator. He was held at bay. My wife and I had that company overhauled via a heavy campaign of complaints (re DSQ) where my coordinator left that company and went on to pioneer and direct his own disability establishment where he now has me formally under his wing. I'll get to that in a minute as just went off track.
Something broke in me after that. I was a good disability support worker and whilst I found the community access very challenging I did enjoy the personal care with the help of said coordinator. One family would often ask after me as they found my connection with their son genuine. Another client who meant just as much to me would also ask after me. I think this is what my coordinator saw in me too and why we are still good friends to this day. At any rate - they way I was myself dismissed in the end led my to my sudden lack of desire to ever participate in society ever again. It was a slow decline until all the noises got louder, the lights got brighter and the pain of it all in my head was just to much. Employment officers or whatever you want to call them just palmed me off with all manner of threats. All my efforts to bounce back like I had re self help and exercise mattered little as I struggled more and more to follow directions and adjust to the changing dynamics of employment courses and new market for certifications. My learning difficulties became more apparent and I my trust constantly broken every time I made the effort to open up. Job interviews developed into full blown panic attacks that lasted days before the event and then the constant humiliation I suffered with XY&Z employers just sent me around the bend. Not only friends and family would tell me to lie on my fortnightly forms required in order to pay rent of food, but also the employment case workers would also tell me to lie on those forms. Just write down something from the yellow pages. Like just list several places of employment that you never actually went too. For me this was not only a big deal because I found it hard to lie from a morale perspective but I did not have the capacity to remember how to lie and all the associated information. In fact many people did not like this about me and in fact never trusted me because of it. At any rate - the conflict in seeing my usual jobs become less and less available as I was really only any good for farm labor which had changed so much over the years and me then living in the suburbs with kids ... Well ... Living the Lie made me go suicidal and hence the petrol can episode. I never hurt anyone ... not intentionally. I know I was not much good to my family though with the ways things were going for me. Living the Lie on all fronts. It happened in the disability sector and continue when unemployed.
I don't think I adequately touched on the deception and abuse many long term unemployed and disadvantaged people go through in that sector of the community as treated by others who seem themselves above simply from having something over another within the human resource pool as dictated to by whatever political party. No matter what party gets in they just rename the schemes yet the same rigid uncaring ruthless dealings take place. The same reoccurring conflicts on ongoing inconsistencies. As I started loosing it more and more I would be put on this or that stream that would have me seen as more hopeless and treated as such accordingly. One variable in the changing of governments, you would see those case workers you once connected well with no longer available. Apparently told to me that they had moved onto greener pastures. This I have heard many times over the years and it emulates well the pent up negative mindsets of those public servants who've become deeply entrenched from one year to the next. Until one day someone like me turns up with a petrol can and lighter. That is one way to shine some light on their pessimistic demeanor. Of course I can't say for sure that the young girl who was unfortunate to of crossed my path on that day was like that at all. I myself had not bitter intentions. I was in a puddle of tears as I pulled the petrol can from my bag as I began to plead my case that I was no longer able to play their game. I assured her I was not going to set light to the can. I pulled out the rope just to explain what I envisaged myself doing in dreams building up to said event. I brought everything with me except the ladder. I was fumbling, trembling, crying whilst trying to assert my story without being aggressive. For her age she impressed me with her de-escalation skills more so from her seemingly genuine tone of sympathy. End of story I was not arrested but instead rubber stamped and like I said, my brothers revelation came true 2 years later when he was found dead on his living room floor falling victim to his well endowed coat which was his assist in dealing with same BS I was enduring.
He too was pensioned off just months before his end and moved into a cleaner disability block with what looked to offer scope in the easing of pressure. His diagnoses to warrant a pension was drug induced schizophrenia with a I am sure some spiel about PTSD and prejudicial childhood. Text book stuff really. Anyways - So it is that I really pay no attention when I hear people reasoning the system this and the system that. I know people mean well when they tell me that. It's just that such reasoning falls short once you've been rubber stamped as permanently affected yet weigh up the needles cost that only adds to the byproduct and from there is just goes around in circles. Moreover, just like the BS schemes previously put in place re employment, the new would be disability services sector now slowly assimilating the disability pension is just putting people like me back into the warranting and proving with all that reoccurring conflicts on ongoing inconsistency.
As much as I want nothing to do with society and humanity due to said system as often explained and experienced be me and my dearly departed brother, I do appreciate those in the system trying to make a difference. I've been very both fortunate and worked hard to have the people in my life I do now re my supports. However, the indignity I recently endured via the review meeting with said bias as outlined in my complaints and the way in which those who support me have been ignored, the reports, assessments and so on and on ... I now sing the same tune I did when I pulled that petrol can out, although much more the wiser "I just don't have anything left in me to keep playing this game" The process is killing me over and over!
Before The Carrot On a Stick / Basic DSP:
NDIS - Insurance Scheme
****, you know the journey I've had to take and I got to tell ya, the only petrol I have left is that which I remember that led to the rubber stamp.
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Originally Posted by Ponder
... I am sad for both of us. No. I do not know what I am doing really. I just got up and the ringing in my ears has never been as loud as it's been. It's quite a high pitch and feels like it's penetrating deep into my brain. The 5mg of this medication does nothing for me so I took 15mg and it started to work and I went to sleep OK. I have woken up without a foggy head, but the ringing in me ears is like I say. Having said that I am used to it. I do have tinnitus and in fact It was brought on when I first started taking antidepressants. Now I am sure I was gong to get it at any rate so not meaning to bash meds. I am at a point in my life where I am needing them despite my tendency to have all the side effects. 
Prepping my Approach to Internal Review: Just flexing before I have to go rigid.
