I’ve had a really bad couple of weeks hence no further efforts on the writing front. Stupid really, writing keeps me calm and gives me a purpose and a goal to work towards. More importantly, it also gives me an outlet for my thoughts which otherwise just spin around in my head getting worse and worse.
I felt great when I got back from visiting my children; I’d stayed sober, had a great time being a father again and didn’t get depressed on the way home. Encouraged by my success, I decided to tackle my debt problem. Since discharge from hospital I’ve been living in a hostel and no-one knows where I am so I’ve been able to ignore the problem but a present I got from my ex-wife, via my children, was all the post that had accumulated for me at my old house.
Still undeterred and determined to start putting things right I got everything prepared; a letter to my creditors explain the situation, a letter from the Community Mental Health Team confirming the state of my health and I even bought a lever arch file and dividers to efficiently file everything away in alphabetical order. I set to and started to open the letters. At first, it was no problem. Nothing I didn’t expect. Lots of ‘pay up or else’ letters which to which I replied with my standard letter.
Still feeling positive and that I had actually achieved something; I decided to go for a beer to keep the mood going. Yet again, one beer led to another but, when I got back to my room to carry on, I still didn’t feel too bad so started on the pile of mail again.
At first it was fine. ‘Yeah, yeah, pay up or else’; but then, a couple of unexpected items. Firstly, apparently I have missed a court appearance with regards to my not informing the DVLA about the sale of a car that I owned which has, completely unbeknown to me, been sold. Mild panic set in over this one. I even found myself looking out the window to make sure that there were no police cars there.
My enthusiasm for the task was starting fail. Catastrophizing is what they call it. Instead of just dealing with it, in my mind that was it, I was going to prison so what was the point of continuing with the pile of letters?
Still I steeled myself and carried on. I wrote a letter explaining the situation with regards to the car and started to open more letters. A few more letters down, a bombshell that I hadn’t anticipated. My divorce has been finalised.
Not that this should have been a surprise, I initiated the divorce, but seeing in it black and white really did hit home. Just another chapter closed.
Bollocks to it all, I thought, put on my coat and when back down the pub.
When I eventually got back, I went up to my room, sank into deep depression and for the first time in nearly a year, self-harmed again. It was nothing too serious, just superficial cuts on my forearms. I just felt utter despair that I would never be free from all the problems that I have to deal with and it was in complete frustration that I cut my arms with a razor. A cry for help? Almost definitely and I am so ashamed that I did it again.
But now I’m stable again and ready to try again at starting to build a new life for myself. I know I must get rid of the debt problem first but it does seem an almost insurmountable obstacle. I need to go bankrupt, I can never pay of the level of debt that I have. But, to go bankrupt, you need to pay a fee of £750!
Where the bloody hell do they think I’m going to get £750!
Still, not despairing today, I’m back on an even keel. I can’t pay my debts, I have no assets that they can re-possess, so I’ll just get all the letters finished and in the post today and let my creditors decide what to do.
Bugger the lot of them!