Day 6904, Wednesday 21 Mar 2018

Coconut for breakfast, again.

Actually Weetabix, and having OCD it slid down as it usually does, where it nestled comfortably until Bea got up.

She's home today, no Daycare on a Wednesday so she's just slobbing around after getting up late as usual. The snow's all melted and I think she's a bit bored to be honest. Its not like I have the money to jump a bus to go somewhere and be stared at, so we're enjoying the early spring sunshine through the window.

She asked me if she could go to Hammonds, the place she goes for Respite, but its not time for that yet either.

"Pest, Whyn't you go and live there if you like it so much" I joked with her. She laughed at me, she knows thats the last thing she wants according to her memory of it.

However things have changed, and she has fun there on Respite with the friends she's made. Also some other care options have been made available after me complaining so I tried...

"You could stay there during the week and have fun all week, come home for the weekend if you like."

And she went for that. Both thumbs up. "Really?" Yes, really. So I discussed it with her some, and it seems she's come to the same conclusion I have - that this is not working out so well and instead of looking to me to do everything for her, she might be better off with a carer who has the money and resources to make it fun as well. So long as she can kick me around at weekends of course. Fine by me, its never her I have issues with, but living like this.

And thats not her fault...

I still have concerns. Historically they havent done a very good job of looking after her to my standards, but with her off during the week having fun and me able then to look for work to make ends meet that's not insurmountable. I can keep an eye on them, and with her home for the weekend it triggers Carers Allowance still so I get some income protection for now. I'm so not being burned by the benefits agency again like last time, and I'm not taking the first bit of slavery they assign me either.

It does mean I can get off Income Support, which the restrictions it carries mean I cant do R&D, sell my work, win the Prize or do anything but walk around like the other scruffy benefits scroungers who cant be bothered to work. They hate me, I make them look lazy and stupid with my industry so I dont fit in with them either, and its been driving me insane.

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I have a lot do do, the social worker is monumentally slow and tedious to work with, although he's a nice bloke and doesnt piss me off. He still has to help us with decent accommodation, although it isnt his remit and is the District Councils job, they have failed and he's supposed to mitigate that. Somewhere decent, no stairs and no turds on my doorstep, its not much to ask. And no garbage...

His department still owe me an apology and some compensation, and with the help of the LGO and recent evidence we've uncovered we'll get it too. I wont have to take the government to court for my right to hack either, just with one simple change, and it was Bea's idea essentially. I dont have to beat myself up over wishing I had the life I dreamed of, at her expense...

One thing Social Services have always assumed, and I disagree with is that Bea has no capacity to make these decisions for herself. This proves otherwise, she knows whats going on. Most people have a problem importing information, hers is worse. Like all people nobody knows how its processed, thats anyones guess, but unlike most people she cant export anything. Its not fair to assume that no output means no processing, and auteurs had that label until recently too. It isnt right, and I think anyone would be appalled if I assumed a caseworker's blindness meant she was stupid because of her actions.

She was employed to do what she did, and thats the truth of the matter. I've taken Obsidian down, made it private prior to engaging in said litigious plans that I probably wont need now if this works out. But I will still pursue an apology, you can bet on that. I've never been so insulted, and I've met some real bastards in my 51 years.

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Its no cruise ship, but this raft is going to get me and Bea back to civilisation when the tide goes out.