I've come to the conclusion that the universe/great spirit/God/ the Source... hates me.

Yesterday I spend most of the day recovering from a hack attack. I've never been so frustrated in all my life... well until today... more of that later.

My virus protection was removed from my computer and all my accounts, except, apparently my GA account (maybe they're homophobic and that suits me fine right now) have been hacked, the passwords changed and everything has gone to hell. Fortunately I don't bank online.

Sooo I spent the whole day practically, undoing the crap that someone, probably for fun, sent my way... via the universe of course

As for trying to finance living I have discovered a whole new way for the universe to torture me. Not only did I get made redundant but, as a result of that I have been forced to apply for various benefits.

Apparently anyone who applies for benefits is immediately branded a thief who is trying to embezzle the system and thereby commit treason. I keep being told that if I answer any of the questions wrong I will be committing a crime. Well... now i am absolutely terrified because my confusion with anything technical, added to my distress and shame (yeah I know, I know I shouldn;t be but I am so suck it up) and as a coup de gras my memory problems I am bound to get something wrong. Therefore the universe probably already has a cell lined up for me because of course I wil have done it deliberately and be lying through my teeth to try and keep out of said prison cell.

I have actually already got a couple of questions wrong and so I have tried to ring and let them know, give them the right answers and thereby stay out of prison. Today so far I have rung 6 times to be told that they are too busy to take the call and then cut me off. This is after 2 minutes (sadly yes I did time it) of a call which I will be charged for.

After having been treated like a lying, thieving, complete idiot on the phone I am then sent a form that needs a degree to complete... fortunately I have one and have only lost the plot three times and had to scribble out and re answer four or five questions. On top of this I have to find paperwork to prove who I am and every single thing that invades my life... like bank accounts, child benefit, DLA, all the things that no one ever keeps the paperwork for. How the hell am I supposed to know when al these things started, and will I go to prison if I get one wrong. I can't even remember when me and Ian split up... was it 2007, 2006 or 2008.

How can I remember when I first got diagnosed with all the crap that has dogged my life for years when the reason i gave up driving was because I couldn't remember if I was supposed to go through a traffic light when it was red or green and a couple of times forgot what I was supposed to do with the accelerator and break. By the way I am MUCH better now since my Epilepsy diagnosis and meds, but still...

And then there is the the worst bit of all. I have been working right? Right up until the redundancy right? So how is it that I am now trying to claim that I am not well enough to work.

Well... maybe it's the fact that for the last couple of years I have woken every morning and gone through a morning ritual that involved gradually working my way from blinding agony to bearable pain before I walk out the door. Suprisingly I have never had a problem getting out of bed even so because I happened to like my job and being a mother and a real independent and strong person... which is why my wheelchair left the house two years ago.

And then of course there is the fact that quite often I had to force myself to walk to the train, knowing that BECAUSE I was walking to and from the train I wouldn't be able to walk for the rest of the night because by the time I got home my feet would be so swollen that if I didn't put cream on them... which I couldn't do because I couldn't bend that far due to the indescribable pain in my back... the skin would crack. Amazingly whenever I had time off work all that would go away... well the foot thing anyway.

Add to that the fact that I spent the day pushing myself to do things I really can't do and smiling (genuinely) while I did them.

No doubt if I had gone on like this for too much longer I would have done myself permanent harm, which, of course I may already have done, and brought the dreaded four wheeled contraption back into my life but hey... none of that really matters does it? Because I have been doing it it's completely unreasonable to now say that I can't do it any more just when I have conveniently been made redundant and have a conventient excuse to stop and start lying about my ability to do it again.

I give up.

I'm soooo tired of it all, and I'm sick with a horrid snotty bug.

And I am having hints from Ian that perhaps Efan would be better off living with him.

And I am suddenly feeling so f**king isolated and alone because I can't get out of the house because I really really don't want to feel that pain again now that i don't have to.

And okay, I am feeling really really sorry for myself, which I probably won't tomorrow because I'm like that, I bounce back like a f**king rubber ball and I'm sure that when i stop being so snotty and woolly headed the whole world will seem far brighter

But I can't help but wonder what's the next curve ball the universe is going to send me and whether I really have the strength to hit it back.

No worries. No matter how shittly life gets I still have friends, and I still have my cats (oh and I have recently discovered I am allergic to them) and I still have the mountains and the rivers and the flowers, and I still have my writing and, most importantly I still have my kids. Oh great... now i'm giving the universe ideas.

I have great sympathy with Job except that, unlike that unfortunate man I don't worship God, in fact I don't beleive he exists and even if I did I wouldn't want anything to do with someone who tortures an innocent man to win a bet.

So f**k YOU universe and thank you very much!!!!!