GETTING BACK TO THE REAL WORLD AFTER BEING IN THE CLUTCHES OF SOCIAL SERVICES

Hello, my fellow Wowsers ! Sorry to have let you down recently by being conspicuous by my absence, but I’ve had a slightly difficult time – to say the least ! Writing the blog has been out of the question really. I have been pushed to the limits of endurance, read on and find out exactly what I mean.

So, tonight I am mildly inebriated, my mind slightly numbed with red wine – not a lot – only about three quarters of a bottle so far. Age dictates that I can no longer drink the fairly heroic amounts of red wine I used to drink. And I am listening to some delightful classical music – Brahms, Chopin, various Gregorian chants, Vespers etc. Fantastic ! Good food, good wine, good music – food for the soul.

But I have had the first decent bit of food for six months, and I have just stuffed ‘triple chocolate’ – that’s just a fancy name for a lot of chocolate – ice cream into my mouth after a ‘main course’ of fried then boiled minced beef with just some fried onions and an Oxo cube with a copious amount of frozen peas, one fried sausage from a specialist ‘sausage shop‘ and some boiled rice using chicken stock, then fried; delicious.

Not exactly gourmet food, but out of this World after the utter garbage I have been forced to eat in the bed and breakfast accommodation social services threw me and my son into during then past six months.

My son announced by means of a voicemail message he sent me after leaving school this afternoon that he was going off with a new found friend to have a ‘sleep-over’ at his new friend’s house just around the corner from our rented house so I am Alone ! The ultimate luxury of a parent plagued with the demanding presence of a child constantly present for thirteen years.

There was a bit of bother. He didn’t tell me the address and I couldn’t get a connection on my useless THREE G mobile phone to listen to his voicemail message which would give me the telephone number he was calling from. The THREE G mobile telephone and internet service is utterly useless as I have found out to my cost since signing up to it shortly after I was evicted from my house six months ago. It is almost always just not working as it is completely overloaded and not enough bandwidth is available for the volume of calls.

It often just doesn’t work because the Hutchinson Whampoa THREE Mobile phone company just don’t provide enough transmission masts in the UK for proper network coverage. I think they are just con merchants really.

They have let me down badly over the past few months as I depended completely on them for being able to function to keep in touch and generally sort out my life. Loads of other people have told me they are a useless mobile telephone and mobile internet company too, with similar tales of being unable to make connections whenever they want to make a a telephone call or use the internet.

But now I am in my new rented house in Tunbridge Wells; not brilliant, but better than the disgusting Bed and breakfast accommodation in Crawley the social services flung my son and I into.

STRESSED BY HOPELESSLY UNRELIABLE INTERNET & PHONE SERVICE

It has probably  taken me all this past month of August  just to deal with the huge amount of stress these unpleasant social workers and council people are inflicting on my son and me. That’s why I haven’t posted anything here on this blog since social services tried to fling my son and I out onto the streets at just a few hours notice at the end of July. My mind has been  basically shattered !

Yesterday, August 31st, I went for a walk in the woods nearby and was puzzled why I seemed so incredibly exhausted. I had spent the whole day trapped in the ghastly bed and breakfast accommodation social services had condemned us to stay in. As I had had loads of sleep the previous night I soon realised the exhaustion was entirely generated by the mental fatigue caused by the extreme, excruciating stress I am experiencing most of the time.

I had been trying to make ‘phone calls and use the internet to send emails to sort out what, exactly, was going to happen the next day. I had been told the bed and breakfast place was no longer going to be paid for by social services and I was being threatened once again with being out on the streets with my young son –  roofless and rootless; all thanks to the thieving banks who stole my home from me.

It was a terrible day. I had to find out from social services what they were planning. Although they have a legal duty to house my homeless child, they had already proved they had no respect for the law when they attempted to fling us both out onto the streets a month ago. It now seemed they were planning to try and get away with playing the same dirty trick again.