I fear another lockdown. Without a job, and steady income, all I do is eat, drink coffee, browse the internet and impulsively spend.
The sale of our place can't come soon enough. I feel that my home has become a clandestine prison. Whenever I try to see positives, I get kicked in the teeth.
I am still applying for jobs, but I feel that there is so much effort for such little return. If I was looking benefits, this country would bend over backwards for me.
Whenever this, long-awaited, windfall arrives, I would let my PIP expire without renewal. Again, too much effort for little reward.
I remember being at Victoria Tube Station in 2017 - whenever I spent a day visiting friends in Brighton - and it just resembled a cattle-market. Belfast and Dublin are heading the same way.
This will pass. But, for now, I'm low.