Our Bloody Roads

It's an odd day today. It doesn't feel as if it fits in. I know it is Friday but it doesn't feel like it. We're in that bit in between Christmas and the New Year. Some people are back at work whilst others have cleverly booked the remainder of the year off, returning to work on January the 3rd or if they are lucky, the 7th.

I woke this morning to news of yet another tragedy to occur on our roads. This time it involved a car leaving the A47 near Walsoken en route to Wisbech yesterday evening. Somehow the car ended up on its side in a ditch and the accident claimed the lives of two young sisters, 7 and 10 from Sutton Bridge, not far from where I live here. Again we are reminded of just how dangerous our roads are. It is not known what caused the accident, but my belief that we have the most dangerous roads (and drivers) in the UK, here in Lincolnshire is strengthened by this latest incident. You really only need drive a few miles to witness some of the most appalling driving habits and risk taking. Poor driving skill is endemic throughout Lincolnshire, particularly in the most rural parts such as here in South Holland where roads are long, speed limits are higher and where police are scarce.

This month will certainly remembered for road tragedies. Earlier today I called my colleague to see how she was following her accident yesterday entering the center of Spalding. Her car too ended up on its side and it is amazing thats he managed to escape with just a few bruises. It is not known how the accident occurred though she claims to have blacked-out. How fortunate that it occurred where it did in a 30 mph zone and not on the busy A17 where cars and lorries hurtle along at 60 mph.

A few ore days of this holiday feeling and then my attention must turn to my role within our support group and creating a database of members' contact details. We should also hear around the 21st January if we have been successful in our bid for funding. Something else I aim to do is to apply for work with a company I stumbled across a couple of weeks ago, Silver Training. They provide in-home tutoring for people who want to learn more about their computers and those who want to install new printers and other peripherals. It is all stuff I have done in the past and maybe it will provide a worthwhile income which could help us immensely.

Another test of my anxiety is coming up tomorrow. We are having tea at my in-laws for a few hours from 4pm. I'm beginning to worry a little about it now. I know I shouldn't but it is a spontaneous reaction I have over which I have very little or no control. At least I can escape into the garden if things get too bad. I've done pretty well over Christmas. Despite is being just the three of us for most of the time, there was the odd occasion when I needed to be sociable, but I did seem to manage quite well.
Looking at my right hand, I am reminded of how bad things can get, particularly if I feel trapped. In a way it's good as it provides a kind of benchmark by which I judge other difficult situations. I don't know if I'm getting better at controlling my anxiety. I prefer to think that I am better at judging and avoiding situations where I could become anxious. I'm hoping it will go OK tomorrow.

Not quite feeling it yet...

I'm in a good place at the moment. Things are pretty steady and we can face Christmas without worrying too much about the mortgage. It's a good feeling to know that things are OK but I'm acutely aware of how quickly things can change. I'm always expecting a letter to arrive with a final demand or a bailiff letter threatening all sorts of horrible things. I dread the post as a result and seldom ever open anything just in case. I see how quickly things can change with myself and I see it with others I know. Keeping busy certainly helps and I am heavily involved with running Blue Skies. I also have this blog, my website and the Blue Skies Facebook page, all of which I try to keep updated regularly. Anxiety is something I find more and more difficult to control, as evidenced last Sunday when I caused a lot of damage to my right hand and wrist. I've decided that part of the reason for doing this was the inability for me to use my e-cigarette. It was quite a long journey and I am never without my 'stick' when driving normally. Being in my in-law's car meant that I couldn't use it and this added to my anxiety and feeling of overwhelming frustration. The people I know and support understand perfectly. They've seen the state of my hand. They know. My family do not, and never will. It is only possible to understand acute anxiety by experiencing it.

I don't know if it's just me, but I do feel there is a lot of death at the moment. So many people have died lately, people of note - personalities and people who have made a difference. As I type this, I see that Kenneth Kendal has passed away aged 88. I grew up during the 1970's and 80's when Kenneth was a regular TV news reader. I also remember his appearances on Channel 4's Treasure Hunt.
There is often tragedy at this time of year. Just before Christmas, it isn't unusual for their to be a disaster of some kind and major loss of life. Indeed, as I am typing I hear that there has been a shooting incident in Conneticut, US at an elementary school. There are reports that as many as 27 have been shot and killed. So tragic and a reminder of what guns can do in the wrong hands. It does seem that very little has changed in the US and gun laws remain lax enabling practically anyone to have access to firearms. All the while the law allows this to happen, so we will sadly continue to see events such as this.

I'm not really feeling that festive at the moment. We do have one or two Group events such as Secret Santa and our Christmas meal next week. I have received a number of cards and a couple of presents have appeared under the tree. I've even played a few of my Christmas records. Maybe next week, I'll start to feel it but today has been much like a typical October day with rain and strong winds having taken over from days of freezing fog and ice.

Our volunteer services manager visited our group on Thursday. He was there to discuss our relationship with the NHS Trust. It seems the NHS are trying to do away with groups such as ours and also end the practice of referring new members. It should be noted that our membership is by referral only so quite how things will work in the future I don't know. It may be that we do end up breaking away, especially if we procure funding but it's important we retain our connections with the NHS. There certainly appears to be an element within the NHS hierarchy that doesn't favor support groups such as ours. It's a shame as we're here to stay and our membership of the Shine Network carries much clout within the mental health circles in Lincolnshire. Added to this, I have called upon our local NHS Governor who I'm hoping will visit one of our group meetings soon. Their support should bolster our cause and ensure we continue to provide a much needed bridge between psychiatric services and the community.

Seeing Santa on the North Norfolk Railway

Today we took our Son to see Santa on the North Norfolk Railway. This has become something of a regular December event and it's something we really enjoy. My in-laws very kindly paid for all of  us to go this year and drove us there and back, so we didn't really have to pay for anything. Although I'm very grateful, I still feel an overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment at not being able to contribute anything. The feelings were so acute this morning that I had what can only be described as an anxiety attack on the way there. My coping mechanism this time was to scratch at my wrist and right hand. I'd already cut my arm again the day previous after a bout of depression. Anyone who self harms will tell you that it is something they have to do to cope with a situation and that it actually makes them feel better. It is something they need to so. For me, it does seem to work. On this occasion, it was a reaction to being extremely anxious, wanting to be somewhere else and feeling judged. I felt really uncomfortable and trapped.

It wasn't until we boarded the train that my anxiety began to lift. My wife had sensed how I was feeling and did her best to calm me. The atmosphere was festive and there was much going on to take my mind off my feelings. We each (adults) received a very nice home made mince pie and a very nice sherry. The children received some chocolate and a soft drink.
As normal, the train was full. This is a very popular event on the NNR's calendar and clearly a major source of income for them. The train staff, all volunteers, really pulled out all the stops and made the journey to Weybourne very enjoyable with a mix of songs, balloon modelling and juggling.
At Weybourne, Santa and his elves greeted the train as it entered the station. This produced excited squeals amongst the children and it's always something I look forward to. I simply love the look on my Son's face and it makes me wish he didn't have to grow older.
Families left the train to see Santa a coach at a time, which was good as we didn't have to stand in the cold. The train was actually very warm. The vintage steam heating system was working very well.

The walk through to see Santa is a pleasant experience. There are displays to keep the children interested and it is well heated. Santa's grotto is very well done. It is clear to see the time and effort that goes into making this event happen each year, and the quality is excellent. There were real coal fires everywhere, including in Santa's grotto which really added to the scene perfectly. Santa was as always superb and our Son was given his gift and asked what he wanted for Christmas, to which he replied 'a bow and arrow'. Quite where he developed this fascination for archery from, I really don't know, and I could tell Santa was rather taken aback by his request.
A walk up and down the station and a few more photos and we were soon back on the train and in a few minutes were heading back to Sherringham, Santa and his elves waving frantically as the train pulled out of the station.
Once again, I have nothing but praise for the NNR and their merry band of volunteer staff. Without their enthusiasm each year, this event couldn't happen and it was good to see them getting involved in the festive fun as much as the parents and children. A huge thanks to them and a recommendation to anyone who wishes for an enjoyable trip by train to see Santa. It's a bonus if you have kids!
Well done again North Norfolk Railway... We'll see you again next year!

CBT No More!

I've been attending CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) sessions for the last three months and I was due to have my 6th session of the allocated 8 during the last week. I normally receive an SMS message to remind me of my appointment time but I didn't receive one. I rely on SMS reminders all the time and find it a great way of keeping me in check with my Google Calendar.
I called this morning hoping I could find out the time of my next appointment and I was told that I had been discharged (or struck-off) as I had missed my last appointment. I did stress that I hadn't received a text message but I was told I would have to now re-apply and join the (8 month) waiting list for therapy.
I'm a little angered that their reminder service has failed, but at the same time relieved that I no longer have the stress and anxiety of making sure I've completed the homework. To be honest, I really hated it and I do not believe it has done anything to help my depression. Depression cannot be controlled by CBT as I'm convinced that it is not caused by the way I think or analyse a problem.
I'm pretty glad to be shot of it. It wasn't working and it was doing me more harm than good. That's not to say it won't work for anyone - it will benefit someone - but not me.
So thanks all at NHS Riverside, Spalding. Your CBT therapy didn't work and neither did your reminder service.

Ups & Downs

I find myself feeling a little odd today. I should be busy but following the last week, I can't help feeling I should be due a rest. The last week has certainly had its ups and downs. The ups are certainly related to my volunteering work and having gained approval for a leaflet I've produced along with a poster for displaying in GP surgeries and waiting rooms. I've also come up with a name for our group, 'Blue Skies'. I didn't really spend very much time researching it, a few minutes on the Internet was all it took. Again, I have approval for this too and the group now feels more official and as having a formal identity.
I hadn't really set out to do all this myself. I have to be in a creative mood and last weekend I felt inspired to start work on a leaflet describing the group with a view to making it sound appealing for anyone interested in joining. I am aware of many groups dotted around the county who have done similar things and having seen their leaflets, I was convinced that we could do the same.
I need to do just a little more work on it before emailing it off to our volunteer services manager for final approval. I am rather hoping he will arrange for them to be printed.
So that's all been rather good. Our volunteer services manager did pay us all a visit on Thursday where he discussed with us funding and getting involved with a project run in Lincoln called ArtLinc. It just so happens that we have been looking at art & craft activities and this fits rather well. Added to this, we have two semi-professional artists within the group who could look after this. I have charged myself with setting up computer classes for anyone interested, and this will be my baby.
The week has certainly had its downs. Once again I have been pushed to the brink of despair by my bank, who knowing my situation have allowed me to pay a reduced contribution towards my mortgage. They called me to let me know that this arrangement had run out and that they were prepared to extend it until the end of November. They also made a point of reminding me of the arrears.
The whole thing just served to plunge me into a deep depressive low. At the time, I could see no way out, a reminder of how I used to feel and the desperation that would take me to some very dark places. Added to this, my accountant chose the worst possible time to remind me that my tax return was soon due meaning more expense as he does this for me. Although it is all zeros as I haven't received a penny all year, I still end up paying about £150 for the privilege of letting HMRC know!
I know that things with the bank look worse than they probably are and that I'll still be sat here typing my blog this time next year. Anxiety and depression make you see the worst of a situation. You worry about the worst possible outcome and despite being told that things will be different, you simply cannot see things that way. It is nothing less than a mind controlling illness, producing irrational fear and dread. For a non-sufferer, it is impossible to understand the mind of someone affected. I spend a lot of time with other people who encounter the illness on a near daily basis. I need not explain to them how I feel when the bank get in touch - they know. In a way, this is a comfort. I am not alone. They cannot help with my situation - the fact still remains that I cannot pay the bank what I owe them, well not right now anyway. Wait a few more years until I'm 55 and they can have every penny with interest, courtesy of my private pension.
It's this constant fear of the unknown that keeps me on this roller coaster of emotions. I cannot now see beyond November and I fear that we will spend Christmas with the prospect of losing our home in the new year. That is unless we are able to sort something out between now and then. There are certain 'rescue schemes' I have read about where the council can buy your home from you and you then pay a reduced rent to continue living in it. This might be an option if the worst comes to the worst.
It's the worry also. It's always there. It's the first thoughts that enter my head when I wake in the morning - the dire situation we're in and the guilt at having created and being responsible for the situation. This is the worst time of the day for me. The realisation that it's not all a dream, it's real.
I'm constantly told to focus on the good things, and to turn negatives into positives. Sometimes it's just easier said than done.

Is CBT the Answer...?

I've begun to understand what CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) is all about. The penny has dropped, as it were. I had my latest session yesterday. It had been three weeks since my last one and I had hoped that my therapist would have forgotten all she had asked me to do. There is a lot of homework with CBT, you are expected to record so much about how you are feeling and what you are doing. When you suffer with anxiety and depression it is often the last thing you want to do. It is just another thing to worry about.

I do wonder if CBT can be a solution. I've been asked to record things I worry about together with my thoughts and actions to better understand why I begin to worry in the first place and to look at the actions I need to take to reduce the worry. The whole thing sort of makes sense. I can see how worrying about the same things - specifically in my case, money and diabetes - often end up in a spiral starting with worry and anxiety and ending up in a depressive low. CBT teaches you to break the cycle, but is it that easy?

If I take yesterday, I received a text from the bank, a text I had been expecting and dreading, ironically whilst I was waiting for my CBT session. The text asked me to call them and I knew it was about the payment arrangement I have for the mortgage. The arrangement has come to the end of its agreed three month period. The anxiety and worry set in immediately, and I was able to use my CBT session to focus on this.  The solution apparently is to analyse why I worry and become anxious and how these reactions will affect the outcome. It's obvious that getting worried isn't going to solve anything and avoiding things will only lead to a worst outcome. I recognise all this. But I find it impossible not to worry. I owe money to the bank, which I don't have at the moment.

I understand what CBT does. I also understand that it isn't a cure, rather it helps to explain why I react in certain ways and to therefore reduce the impact of an event or something that causes distress. I have to ask if I think it is doing me any good. Probably not. I came home from my CBT session worrying that I had to call the bank. The response by the bank to my dilemma was not as good as I had hoped for. Specifically they are prepared to extend my payment arrangement until December after which I'm required to pay the full amount of £950 a month. I've managed to buy a little more time but having to plead with them yesterday took all my strength. Did CBT help me? The answer is definitely no, as I'm now worrying about the next phone call in December.

The Vicious Circle

Yesterday I attended a diabetic clinic appointment. I had been dreading it for some time having missed my previous appointment. They are getting quite heavy on diabetes now and they send out reminders straight away. If you fail to contact them to arrange an appointment, it is made for you.
I knew I hadn't been managing my diabetes very well. I find the more I think about it, the more depressed I get. For me, it's just another reminder of where I have failed. To be honest, I have been eating pretty much according to my mood. I find that eating often raises my mood, particularly if the things I eat are the things I like. Of course, these are bad for me and it has resulted in my blood sugar levels increasing.
I hadn't really noticed any ill effects apart from a couple of days where I couldn't stop drinking. Like a fool, I didn't connect this to my diabetes but it was a sign that my sugar level was too high.

I had expected a 'telling off' and I got one. I was warned of all the bad things that can happen to me and that I was heading for a stroke at a very young age. To be honest, I have mentally prepared myself against some of the worst effects of diabetes. I know it isn't going to get better and it has already caused my thyroid to stop working. Blindness is something I have thought about, as there is a risk of my eyesight being damaged as the years progress. I've tried to imagine how I would cope and provided my surroundings remained pretty much the same then I think I would just about manage, with one or two modifications here and there. I know it sounds odd, but I am quite resigned to things deteriorating.

Trying to battle diabetes whilst trying to live with anxiety and depression is not easy. I try not to think about my diabetes and whether I am managing it or not as it just adds to my anxiety. Yesterday really brought it all home to me and I was depressed for the rest of the day. I'm not much better today. All this plays into the hands of my wife who despite the fact she has lived with my bouts of anxiety and depression, still fails to understand it. It's not simply something that can be turned on or off. There is often a trigger, and my trigger was my appointment with my diabetic nurse. It's always a vicious circle.
As with all bouts of depression, this one will pass and I will be back to 'normal', or whatever normal is. I was cheered up slightly this morning seeing my mum. I hadn't seen her all week and she could immediately see that things weren't right. She made me some breakfast and I took her to Long Sutton for her regular Saturday morning shop. As a treat, she took me in 'Possessions'. It's a large second hand store full of all sorts of things gathered from house clearances mainly. I love rummaging through things and often find a bargain. My wife calls it junk and 'crap', but for me it is the ultimate shopping experience. I'm not normally allowed anywhere near shops like this which made this morning all the more mood-lifting. There's nothing like sifting through a box of oddments only to find something rare, or to flick through a stack of records to find a long lost favourite. I always find something of interest and often end up hankering for the old days, when I had money and the freedom to buy whatever I wanted. For instance on this visit there was a wonderful Sony music system with double cassette deck and built in turntable for just £30. For its age, it was in remarkable condition and I would dearly have loved to have given it a home. Also, there was a rather nice colour laser printer with its own heavy duty desk and spare toner cartridges for £48. The desk alone was worth at least £50 and had clearly come from an office somewhere. The fact that there were several spare toners in unopened boxes would have guaranteed its operation for at least a couple of years, and the printer would have provided me a nice little project to keep myself busy with. But sadly I had to leave them there, giving them a last glance as I left with my ABBA boxed set of LP's and VHS video on the subject of Lincolnshire - all for just £1!

I will shortly head over to my friends place. I was debating whether I should, given my low mood, but I've decided it's probably the tonic I need to prevent me sinking further into a full depressive low. If I sit here all afternoon, it's bound to happen as I dredge up all the bad things about my life and my past failings. That's why writing this blog helps me enormously. It helps me to get things out instead of them building up inside and making me sink. I will be able to tell my friends about my appointment yesterday. They are both diabetic and know all too well the struggle of having to live with it as well as other illnesses. I know I will get a sympathetic ear there, particularly as they have seen me at my worst and know how easy it is for the depression to set in and take over. They also know that their home is a kind of refuge and way of escape for me whenever things get too much. I know it's wrong to run away from things or situations we don't like, but it's human nature to do so and as far as I'm concerned, if it makes me feel better then it's a good thing.

Well, that's made me feel a bit better, for now at least.

An Anxious First Day Back

I think I was feeling more anxious than my son. It was his first day back to school today after the long Summer holiday. He told us he didn't want to go, but thankfully we didn't have any tears or tantrums I suspect were occurring in homes all over the country.
I didn't expect I would feel so anxious. I had the same feelings I used to have when I was young, dreading the return to school after a break or weekend. I hated it and the feelings all came flooding back this morning. I even felt myself beginning to sweat in the same way I would before school or before leaving for work. I had to keep reminding myself that I was at home, and would be staying here for the anxiety to dissipate.
To make matters worse, he has a new teacher. He was very fond of his old teacher. She has moved on to teach older children at another local school. He has met the new teacher before, she took a lesson last term so he has had brief experience of her.
This morning, all the children in my son's class were required to bring in a box with some of their favourite things inside. My wife spent most of last evening making sure it was complete and I printed some photos out to put inside.
The house feels empty. My wife has gone to work and my son is at school. I do have the dog, but she goes upstairs to sulk on our bed only venturing downstairs if she thinks she is going to get a treat, or when the postman calls.
It is surprising though just how quickly the hours go by, and it will soon be 3.15 and time to go and collect him. He'll be excited to be coming home and remembering very little of his day at school, volunteering only the most scant details, as is usual.
Things are back to normal today. My wife is at work, I am feeling guilty that she has to, and my son is back at school. I am sat here typing, transferring my thoughts to my blog and updating my website. There's something safe and comfortable about being back to normal, probably something to do with my need for routine. Tomorrow will be just the same.

Paralympic Welcome, Tentative York & Longing for Security

Once again, we produced an epic opening ceremony, this time for the Paralympic Games. Though not on quite the same scale as the Olympic opening ceremony, it was nonetheless fully attended and watched by millions across the country. Channel 4 have the broadcast rights to the Paralympics and though their coverage was very good, much criticism has been made of the decision to include numerous advertisement breaks during the event. Twitter was awash with comments deploring Channel 4 for the decision and I have to admit that I was one of those contributing to the protests. Being one of the largest and most significant events Channel 4 has broadcast since it launched in 1982, I would really have expected the channel to forgo the revenue from the numerous car ads in favour of showing the whole event uninterrupted.
For me, the event was very moving. The sight of hundreds of disabled athletes, proud to be representing their countries and being celebrated was magnificent. The choreography was world class and complimented with a commentary by Stephen Hawking. The athletes were proud the be there, and it showed.

Tomorrow, we had hoped to be taking our son to York for the first time. My wife and I have been to York on a couple of occasions and have enjoyed it very much. There's something about the place that you can't quite put your finger on, but I do have a particular fondness for the history, architecture and of course the wonderful Railway Museum.
I've mentioned before the prohibitive cost of rail travel and the return fare being £145 for the three of us. Now, to me this seems expensive. Perhaps I'm simply out of touch with current public transport costs. But when I compare this to the cost of travelling by car, about £35, it really does seem excessive. We are rather hoping that my in-laws will lend us the money until my expenses arrive for my NHS work. This would allow us to get there and back, and a packed lunch would negate the need to buy food. It's touch and go at the moment whether we'll go or not but if we're able to, I know my son will love it.

I've written about having to keep a diary noting activities and my anxiety and depression levels. This is for the CBT therapy I'm having in Spalding. I'm a little concerned that when I have my next session on the 18th September (when my therapist returns from her holiday to Mexico), there won't be a great deal for her to analyse. I've actually been feeling quite good for the last few weeks. I certainly haven't had any depressive episodes and my anxiety levels have been pretty much level. This may be due to the fact that I'm finding things to occupy me, or simply that there haven't been any triggers to set me off. The one constant thing on my mind is the Bank and whether they will allow us to continue contributing to the mortgage. I worry daily that there will either be a letter or phone call requesting me to contact them. If and when it comes, I will need to ask them to extend the period further. My biggest fear is that they will say no. I may be worrying for no reason as I've been told by so many people that provided we are paying something, they cannot do anything and as the house value is decreasing, they are unlikely to try to turf us out to sell on. Common sense tells me this is the likely outcome but I still worry. At least this time round I can tell them I am officially an NHS Volunteer, so I'm doing something productive. Although I'm not being paid anything - just my expenses - I am hopeful that it will develop into something permanent. Working in some kind of mental health support role within the NHS is my current aim. The question is how long we can survive for until something happens?

CBT and Me

For the past three weeks, I have been attending a CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) session each Tuesday in Spalding. It's supposed to help people who suffer with anxiety and depression to control their thoughts and behaviour, the thinking being that this will in turn control periods of depression and anxiety. I decided to approach the sessions with an open mind having heard both good and bad things from others who have had the therapy.
I've had three sessions so far and I'm still not really convinced that it's helping. A lot of it is about analysing thoughts, feelings and emotions. I am required to do some homework which consists of keeping a detailed diary of my activities and how I feel at the time together with my thoughts. Any 'spikes' where my anxiety levels are high or if I have a bout of depression, these are analysed and picked apart to understand why they happened and how they can be prevented from reoccurring.
I don't really see CBT as a cure. It won't stop me from worrying or from getting depressed. It will help me to identify the cycle that leads to my anxiety and depression. I do know that CBT certainly isn't for everyone. I spend time with people for whom CBT wasn't helpful and they stopped attending after a couple of sessions. I suppose I'm rather hopeful that something will be found that leads me to understand why I suffered a breakdown and why since then I have begun to suffer with anxiety and depression.
A lot of the analysis so far points towards me feeling an acute sense of failure and guilt. I don't provide and rely on my wife for pretty much everything.This fills me with a daily sense of worthlessness and no amount of CBT is really going to reduce this. The situation is the same and there is no magic wand to make everything right again.
I can't really say if the sessions have benefited me so far. I do have a greater understanding of the 'worry cycle' and why I get anxious about the same things over and over, such as the bank and debt. I can't though ever see a situation where I could simply dismiss a problem such as that.
I have a two week break from the sessions as the therapist is on holiday in Mexico. Maybe in a few weeks I'll be in a better position to judge its benefits.

The Call to the Bank

There is very little (besides spiders) that fills me with absolute dread, but today I had to call the bank. I woke this morning knowing I had to call the bank and frankly I've spent the entire day worrying about it. My wife left for work this morning without mentioning it and I must admit that part of me had hoped she had forgotten. But my hopes were to be in vain. My wife returned home from work at about 3pm this afternoon and immediately asked me if I had remembered to call the bank. I felt the colour rush out of my face and had all the feelings I last experienced just before a school exam or telling my maths teacher I hadn't done my homework. I knew it had to be done and there was no escaping it.
The call to the bank is to make a 'token' payment towards our mortgage arrears. Since I fell ill and lost my job, we have been unable to meet the payments though until recently we did have an insurance policy that paid the contracted amount each month. Sadly this was only for a limited period so we were faced with paying it ourselves. Being unable to pay the full amount, we negotiated a payment arrangement with the bank, who at the time were very understanding and dare I say it, synpathetic.
The amount we pay is nowhere near the full amount, not even half. Despite the arrangement being in place, I cannot help but feel guilt and anxiety. My mind fills with 'what if's' and thoughts of them being less unerstanding or demanding we pay the full amount. My biggest fear is that we are forced to sell the house, or have it reposessed. I really don't know how I would cope with that, if at all.
My wife placed the phone in front of me with the number I had to call. I should have done it there and then, but I couldn't instead finding things to tinker with on my website. This went on for a good half hour until I had thought through several times the likely course of events and every scenario possible. I decided I would try to bargain with them by offering my pension as security. There's certainly enough in it to cover the mortgage totally.
So with sweat beginning to form all over me and my heart beginning to race, I picked up the phone and called them. A familiar recorded voice giving me menu options finally directed me to a real person and I was asked for my role number in a strong Scottish accent. I read out the long number and I was then asked a series of mandatory security questions. I've done this so many times now, the answers just roll out. After a brief silence, I was told that my mortgage was in arrears and by how much. This bit I really hate. I don't want to hear how much I owe. I know it's a lot and I dearly wish I could pay it, but to be reminded is just so very painful.
I told the chap that I wanted to make a payment for the amount agreed in our arrangement. I gave my card details and scribbled down the authorisation code. I've never had to do anything with it, but I write it down every time as if I should.
I was then asked if my situation had changed. 'No, sadly not', was my reply. I did go on to say that I had volunteered at my local NHS Trust and was hoping tha in time this would perhaps materialise into something permanent and more importantly, paid. He made a note of this and he seemed to accept this as proof that I am trying to do something to get out of the hole I'm in. I felt a little better.
Next, he asked if he should set up another arrangement, to which I replied 'yes please'. Of course I want another arrangement - there's no way I can afford to pay the full monthly amount, or the arrears. He said he'd set up another three month arrangement and asked how much I could afford. I replied that it would need to be for the same amount. After all, it's all we can squeeze out of my wife's meager part time wage.
He asked if we were in debt to other creditors and I told him that we are but that the payments had been reduced in favour ensuring as much as possible could be paid toward the mortgage. He seemed to sound very sympathetic and again I felt a degree of reassurance.
He told me the arrangement had been set up and that I should pay the next amount by the 20th of next month, giving me an extra three days. I was grateful for this and thanked him for his help and understanding.
We said our goodbyes and hung up. It was done and I felt huge relief but also depressed at having had to call practically begging for help, and at having the whole sorry situation read out to me. It's a depression that hopefully won't last too long and the very thing that's prompted me to write this account. As I've said before, writing about my experiences and thoughts really seems to help. I suppose it's a way of venting some of what's festering inside and making me feel so bad.
I should feel relieved. I have negotiated us another three months. The arrangement will be reviewed in August, and thinking about this makes me realise just how quickly this year is passing. By then I really hope things will have changed. They have to. But despite the relief and the somewhat false feelings of security, I do wonder if things will ever get better. To call every three months is, in reality, an admission of failure. I've broken my agreement with the bank and failed to raise the necessary funds to balance my account with them. I know there are thousands, possibly millions of people in a similar position, and though this makes me feel that I'm not the only one, a name in bold red font in some debters ledger, I still feel alone in having to deal with it. That's why this blog is so important to me. It's a kind of sounding board, a way of expressing what I'm going through. That it is read by anyone is of no conseqence. It lets me translate my anxieties into words, and by doing so, makes me feel just that little bit better.