It may seem as though I am about to embark on another battle with Family and Community Services. They did not do this to me. Whatever their office did to me during the years FACS is not responsible for the suffering I am enduring at the loss of a safe haven or the destruction and continued degradation of my fledgling business and mental stability.
They gave me what they had and put a roof over my head when I was in danger of dying from the stress of homelessness. It is not their fault that this apartment is small and toxic and nowhere near where I want to be.
This is a form of tyrannical abandonment they cannot have blamed on them.
It has fallen on their heads though. We have been driven from our homes and our communities dismantled for the edification and profit of the wealthy. Damaged masses have poured in to the tiny and under-funded offices of Family and Community Services, desperately seeking rescue and safety. Their staff has been left to face the rage of the betrayed and the cries of the damaged.
I was in the offices of FACS when a forlorn and tiny woman entered. She was ninety years old. Her head barely came up to the desk top. She had been thrown out of her long term home when it entered the hands of investors. She had no vehicle. She had no one to assist her. All her friends and family had died. Because of that she had not been able to save more than a tiny bag of clothes. She didn’t have medication or her glasses. She stood before the intimidating desk and cried and shivered. She was just one of the many desperate people in that office during the short time I was there. Chances are she died soon after that. She had survived tremendous hardship for such a frail person. Her life would have dripped through the fingers of some staff member who had few resources to support her.
The determined fight by the workers of these offices may never be recognized. It is not politically expedient to admit to the trauma the great rental bubble caused in the communities it destroyed. Governments will ruin many lives before allowing that responsibility to land where it is due. FACS personnel may not even be allowed to claim for the PTSD they most certainly suffer for the same reason.
There should be a special type of PTSD named for the damaged souls of the people who held the tide of the helpless and abandoned. Maybe even something like a public service campaign medal. They certainly served in a terrible place and in the face of great cruelty.
As for me. They told me my my great nephew was having a birthday. I remembered it for a day was shocked when it appeared in the Facebook feed. My memory is alienating me from life generally.
Up until a few moments ago I was sitting on my bed and before that sleeping in darkness with the radio running. The heat is still sapping what energy I have. While I managed to get some groceries my strength was overwhelmed during the trip and I came back without a lot of things. Small chores destroy what strength there is and force me to lay down and sleep. For interest I eat when I am awake long enough. I am getting very obese and looking like some cripple who never moves. I might watch some Youtube but after a few minutes it is difficult to sit here. It was like this last year but this year even more desperation as my chance to work on any projects dissipates and blows away into the universe.
I do not understand how anyone can think a psychologist can be of any use to someone like me when I am in crisis now and I will not see them for weeks. They didn’t know I was handicapped to any degree after five visits nor did they seem to recognize I needed a carer to travel much beyond the house. I am trying to explain massive trauma and what it has done and they didn’t listen to any of it and acted like they were a careers advisor and I was refusing to work. Heartbreaking at $200 an hour. Nobody will come here. The grief of being trapped like this after all the work put into the skills and money into materials fills the time more than the weakness