Skip to main content

Poverty and State Benefits, the slow death.

It is an odd feeling slowly being strangulated by poverty. 
Our savings have run out, the Nationwide refused to negotiate with us to reduce the amount of mortgage payment we made. They insisted on taking the full amount every month. We begged them to reduce it to interest only; they eventually did, but far too late. Our savings evaporated pretty quickly.
They now receive payment from the government via the SMI, Support For Mortgage Interest scheme; you the taxpayer are picking up 'our' bill now. Had they negotiated earlier and been less aggressive we would still be paying the mortgage with our money and not yours. Their refusal has meant that you all help us with our repayments now.
Slowly we had to economise on food. Going out stopped. Newspapers are to stop soon. £4 a week is a lot on money now. 
Buying music stopped early on. I did without things to buy my last cd; PiLs new one. Theatre and cinema died very early on; as did our views on them. Now we only use the car to shop. Aldi and reduced food are our means of eating well. And before you start to defend Aldi, there are some great bargains to be had there. We couldn't do without it.
My point is that you slowly become parted from the world that a lot of people have and you had, once. We have no holidays  planned now or ones we are likely to take in the near future; we have no future, to quote my hero John Lydon. You feel slightly resentful that others can take holidays. The conversation at the barbers has no topic so that is a blessing in itself. That will go soon too. £5 is a lot of money now.
Every month that ends you feverishly check that all the bills are going to be met and that your benefits have been paid. You turn off lights at every opportunity, you don't replace blown bulbs, you use as little power as is possible. 
A hole in a shirt sleeve or blouse is a disaster. The knee of my 'best' jeans split; that caused me distress. We have no money to replace them, yet. We'll do without to do so. 
Despite popular belief benefits don't replace an income; they allow you to barely survive. The fall in self worth and belief are not compensated for.  Neither is the psychological toll that is taken on you every day you remain workless.
'We'll do without' has become our motto.

Comments

  1. Amanda Egan19 July 2012 at 05:29

    I'm totally with you on this. Hubbie hasn't worked for 5 years now. The media tell us that mortgage companies are sympathetic and want to help - we have not found this to be the case AT ALL. They were very quick to jump with some pretty nasty threats when we slipped just a small amount in arrears. We have been fortunate enough to receive help from family and friends but that won't last forever. My husband applies for countless jobs every day and rarely hears back - he feels like he's on the scrap heap at 56. I live in hope that my books hit the big time and we can start to lead normal lives again! I wish you well and hope that things turn for you :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. David Ackneylad12 August 2012 at 02:37

    We are the same age! I don't expect to work again either. I am 56 in a few days. Our company issue veiled threats at each negotiation with them. They remain unhelpful and with no understanding.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Protein Man of Oxford Street- Stanley Owen Green.

I wrote this Obituary piece for The Guardian about Stanley Green while I was an undergraduate at Goldsmiths' College.  I contacted The Guardian and asked them if I could submit it for publication. It was sent off to them and I waited in eager anticipation for their reply. It was published on Wednesday January 26th 1994,   the Editor  made no changes or additions except by adding some photographs (the photographs used here are later additions by me): "A Consuming Passion.... Stanley Owen Green who has died aged aged 78, was that tall thin man with steel-rimmed glasses who marched it seemed for an eternity up and down London's Oxford Street. It was his banner that made him famous, held high above his head and proclaiming "LESS LUST FROM PROTEIN" in large white letters. Underneath the banner he endured the taunts of sticky schoolchildren and the spittle of office workers alike, to bring his unique, indeed puzzling message to the people of London. He later wate...
3 comments
Read more

The telephone, the typewriter and the confused.

My life seems to be littered with conversations such as the one told below. If you look on my blog you’ll see ‘Hypo or Hyper’ and ‘The Blackbird in the Garden’ and the triumph that was ‘The Telephone’. All are based on the other person’s misunderstanding of a content of my life, or their life. I sometimes, in fact often, continue conversations purely for the humour that results from them.   # Ooooowh, what’s that noise? It’s just my phone. #Sounds like an old typewriter Yep, it is. It’s for my texts. #That must take a long time. What? #Typewriting texts. It doesn’t type them, it’s only a notification. #Mine is a ping, like a microwave. Mine was too. I changed it so I would know I have a text. #But you must have to wait a while for it to be typed. No, it’s just a notification noise. I downloaded it. #How does it send texts then if it uses a typewriter. It doesn’t use a typewriter, it’s only the notification sound. #Mine just pings and the message ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Music Teacher

I   recollect aged about 10 having an argument, a strong disagreement,   with the music teacher at my Primary School. Iin fact it was one of many that I had with her. I don’t why but she just irritated the young David; she was not a soft teacher, she had no hesitation in throwing you out of the room. Possibly that was it, there was physical retribution taken, she was one of the few teachers that didn’t mete out the ruler or cane. I had to test her. Of course I did, it was natural for me to do so. Anyway it started out with her plonking away on the piano as she always did at the start of a ‘lesson’; lesson being a loose term for her didactic approach to teaching, we had to enjoy music, we had no choice. I did in fact love music, I still do.I just found her approach less than welcoming. As she plonked away on the piano for a few minutes we took our places on the floor.   She then dramatically stood up in the way teachers with an artistic bent do a...
3 comments
Read more