The snap election that made me snap

On Tuesday I was driving to Bristol to see my sister and her family. On the way down came the news over the radio of a snap election. Oh no, more disappointment and strife. I know that’s dramatic but I’ve been so hopeful in recent elections, and the referendum, to then be squashed and let down. Me stuck in my echo chamber of disbelief that bounces around my nearest and dearest. I didn’t even dare to hope that this may bring a different outcome. I feel defeated, dejected and a little out of fight and it’s not even begun.

But as I listened to Theresa May’s speech about her reasons why she has made an election u-turn I found myself screaming at the radio. It wasn’t anything to do with the fact she’s gone back on her word about the election in general. I get it situations, tactics, and people change.

It wasn’t even the section that declared it was Westminster that was fractured, not the country, that made me snap. I mean that part did make my blood boil. After all it’s your job as a politician to be divided in views and options and to argue and debate these. Oh yeah and the country are clearly are all at odds, hence the split vote of Brexit.

The bit that made me completely snap was this:

“Our opponents believe that because the Government’s majority is so small, our resolve will weaken and that they can force us to change course.

“They are wrong.

“They under-estimate our determination to get the job done and I am not prepared to let them endanger the security of millions of working people across the country.”

Sorry, say what?! She is not prepared to endanger the security of working people?! So what, everyone else can be thrown into the sacrificial fire? Children, young people, students, retired, people with disabilities, unemployed and sick, terminally ill you can be endangered, have your security threatened and suffer to save the ‘working’.

To me a prime minister should be saying  I am not prepared to let them endanger the security of millions of people across the country. Because that is the job of the Prime Minister; to be working for her nation. To serve the people and protect them, a nation as a whole, not just the ones you select.

I am fully aware she may have meant protecting people’s jobs when Brexit happens, but life is more than that. It’s people’s health, wellbeing, education, culture, families, freedom of expression, right to live. Brexit is about more than jobs.

I’m about to reveal a big shocker. Sometimes life isn’t black and white! Sometimes things just go wrong and the person that was working suddenly finds themselves in a different place to where they dreamed. I wonder if you have ever experienced that Teresa?

Please take a moment to step into my shoes. I followed the formula: I went to college then to university. I’ve always worked hard and above and beyond. I worked 50 hour weeks as a student and after I graduated. For years I dreamed of setting up my own arts company and worked in all sorts of jobs to make this happen. I’ve always paid tax and N.I. the whole way.

From 17 years old my mental and physical health began to play up. Despite this I carried on and tried to earn a living but always ended up in the renting and credit/ debt game. When I started to not cope and drown in symptoms these loans and debt and renting weighed me down further. I tried to live within my limits and keep on earning. I tried to reach for help to budget and dug myself out of holes. I never asked for help from anyone and being fiercely proud I did it all myself.

Inevitably when my health worsened I sunk. I blame myself for poor choices and being defiant by working in the arts. I blame myself for running a non for profit company to help others. I blame myself for getting ill and wonder if I just pulled my socks up I’d somehow manage to work.

The final rock in my pocket is your prejudice as a Prime Minister Mrs May. Your promise to protect working people leaves me out cold. It’s another albatross of guilt strung around my neck. It’s the nail in the coffin of my self-worth. I hide inside the house a lot, incase I’m showing I’m enjoying my life for not working. The reality is very different. The other day I visited a garden with a friend. I posted pictures of my adventures. What I chose not to post were the 4 hours I had to sleep to regain a little energy. The 3 days of back pain and mobility issue as payment for walking. The looks you get for not being at work when everyone else is. And most of all the boredom and frustration at not being able to have a choice.

Just before the election announcement I was visited by a Conservative Party campaigner. He arrived at the garden gate and stood for five minutes talking loudly on his mobile. I began to stumble trip down the garden to meet him and waited for him to finish his call. Eventually he did and he was pleasant enough. He asked me if I would vote Conservative in May’s local election. I told him bluntly that I never would. His response was ‘what if I said we would reduce your council tax, then would you vote for us?’ To me this was the catalyst to a rant. I politely explained back that I am currently in a system to which I’ve always paid tax and I’m being humiliated and let down. The lack of social housing means I face eviction, court, homelessness, living in a bed a breakfast and still may not get help. I spend hours filling out forms, exposing my entire soul-destroying medical history to strangers. My voice raised and my lip wobbled as I told him I’m doubted and tested and have to fight every corner to gain pretty much nothing. Funnily enough I don’t think we should be paying less council tax, but more to help and care for everyone’s security.

He looked shocked and said he ‘was sorry’ as he was already backing away. I know I may have fooled him as I’m not your typical ‘benefits scrounger’. I live in the countryside and I’m mostly well presented. I’m well-educated, intelligent and speak with a slightly posh accent. Maybe I was in disguise or maybe, just maybe, there isn’t a typical non worker. He couldn’t have got away from me quicker once I revealed my ‘not working’ card. What he should have done if wanting to talk to people face to face was stayed and listened. He could have reported back the faults in the system and cared enough to make a change to all people, not just those of certain income or social standing.

I get that people out there play the benefits system. I get that there needs to be a level of testing. But this does not mean all people who don’t work do this out of choice. I’d literally give my legs or right arm to be able to work (no pun intended). I would love to see my passion and skills put to good use, but I can’t. This has nearly destroyed me inside without the judgement of others from the outside. Save your council tax bribery and your tiny words of judgement.

Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but that one tiny word ‘working’ made me feel sick. Like I wasn’t worth looking after. Than I am a villain for claiming benefits and it makes me a burden; a cheat, a lower class of person. That cleverly placed word amongst all the others wasn’t a mistake. It was deliberately put there to make people fear and hate those not working.

Make sure when you judge someone for not working you know their story first, or even better? Just don’t judge.

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