So Helpful

Fuming!

I am not a happy blogger right now. The bloody jobcentre, whom I have told to be 110% discreet when communicating with me (if I must have them contact me by phone at all), have just disregarded that entirely and told the family member I live with that they are from the jobcentre. This is a big deal because I have tried to keep that a secret because I really really do not want to have to deal with the grief of explaining I am a feckless scrounger to someone that will not understand. I know they won't understand.

It is not for the bloody jobcentre to question this. It isn't for them to say 'well they should understand' or whatever. It should be enough for them to respect my wishes, that I have made a thousand times, not to blurt out 'hi is Mr Whistler in, I'm from the JC' - along with whatever else she said (if anything - I have no idea). All that's needed is to ask for me; if I'm available then we can talk. I have a real problem with phones anyway (that's why I don't use a mobile - plus the cost of the damn things and the awful companies involved), I find them intrusive and I don't like having discussions with anyone in so open a fashion. But that's me; those are my insecurities. If the staff at the bloody JC+ don't understand that, that's fine - but they should respect that.

The worst part is that the person concerned is the Disability Adviser. This stupid woman has rung me up, while I was out doing my weekly shopping, and spoken - to some degree or another - to the family member I live with. Now I am not going to delve into my family details here, that isn't the purpose of this blog. Suffice to say that mine has not been a happy home and that my family has been, shall we say, behind closed doors, very dysfunctional. It was not an easy thing to live with and certainly not something you can discuss in polite conversation. So for this silly woman, the Disability Adviser of all people, who should know (having spoken, presumably, to The Psychologist), that I have issues. They are a matter of record from my prior ESA claim.

Now I have to wait for her to ring back before end of business today, as apparently that's what's going to happen.

These bloody people really push my buttons right now, but god damn if the system won't accommodate people with problems and issues coping with this bedlam of a society we have right now.

Appointment with Fear!

So after being inexplicably referred for what is termed an 'intervention' (though I gather all signing appointments anyway are considered such) and waiting extremely nervously for two weeks I get to attend said 'intervention', in place of my normal signing time. This all started because last time the, rather petulant, adviser decided that, because the jobs he called up on his screen were beyond my experience, I needed this intervention. Although it seemed beyond his ability to explain this rather than resort to passive aggressive behaviour, after ignoring tht I'd presented him with a jobsearch in full compliance with my JSAg.

The JCP do not work well when you 'buck' (as they would doubtless see it) their way of doing things. Conversely if you accede to those processes you can, like wu wei, do well - or at least better. Anywho the appointment was relatively painless, mainly for that reason. As a happy coincidence my next signing time coincides with the royal arranged marriage and so I have been 'excused'. Unfortunately I had (or so it felt - dealing with the DWP is like a constant bartering for your very soul) to agree to see their Disability Adviser, though not the same person (and certainly not as bad I hope). So now I have the stress of awaiting a phone call to book me in for yet another visit to the bloody jobcentre. I shall tell her I don't intend to come in before the 13th (my next signing date) and only when I sign.

I'm going to enjoy the next couple of bank holiday weekends and the time inbetween as a holiday and damn the consequences. I doubt she will like that - it goes back to what I said above. They won't understand why I would, in their eyes, be unwilling to receive their benison of help. Too bad, the weather's getting nice, it's Easter (and although not christian I find Easter a pleasingly introspective time), and at least baldie's wedding is another excuse to de-stress. A blessed month away from the bloody DWP is to be welcomed as a fortuitous gift and not squandered on more pointless attendance.

So the appointment didn't really cover much. The problem with the JCP is their inflexibility and their inability to see individual circumstances for what they are. Everyone's different, but they simply see a list of vacancies and assume that a) there are lots of jobs going and b) why aren't i applying for all of them. Well because not every vacancy is suitable - particularly if the employer sets standards I can't meet, such as a level of experience or knowledge (such as software I don't own, have never used and couldn't afford). Last time I asked about training (for the now-pointless ECDL) I was warned that attending would disqualify my claim for JSA. I agreed to apply for a job through an agency, which I don't want. A 6 week office job through an agency I know are a waste of time - like most of these agency jobs. 6 weeks of work I'm not interested in just to appease Gideon Osbourne, 6 weeks of experience for a career I don't want, probably followed by hassle restarting my claim. Not once is there a discussion of help to get a career I might want to do. Instead it's about making your CV look good, or getting 'experience'.

This system is just designed to fail.