I was listening to this song by Shania Twain:

Ignore the weird back beat and listen to the lyrics. It’s basically a song that tells you to forget about the small stuff; that it happens to everyone; that you haven’t got a choice, so suck it up buttercup…

This is the chorus:

Don’t let it get to you
C’est la vie! That’s life,
and that’s how it’s gonna be
C’est la vie! Hold tight,
it comes right eventually.

One of the courses I have done, trying to teach myself to be less stressed about life and to be able to cope with all the sudden changes that I have had to deal with, was a very short CBT course.
It taught me that I fortune tell, that I am a pessimist and that I need to break large problems in to smaller ones and deal with those as I go along.

When I have a minor meltdown ( these often happen on my facebook wall without any warning) I tend to get very upset that I can’t influence what is happening to me… or my family. I try not to control my kids too much, but often the inability to control the events happening to me makes me come down hard on them without realising it until afterward.

Hmm, this isn’t making a great deal of sense. I’m going to have to go back to the beginning of what is currently stressing me.
Please bear with me if you are one of my existing friends or followers – you may have already lived through this with me already… but in order to make some sense for my post’s beginning, you need to know what has happened over the last three years. I promise I’ll give you the short version of events.

Back in September 2014 I was pregnant. I was also certain that PT was Aspergers, albeit in a slightly different fashion than her brother. So we’d started the process to get a diagnosis from the Paediatrician.

When the Baby was born (this was PW) I realised that if PT was Aspergers, the space in our house would become somewhat of an issue – My son and partner were both aspergers and often rubbed each other up the wrong way when in close proximity for too long and I was having similar problems with PT… this was a bit of a flag that I was aspie as well.

I set up a crowdfunding campaign at the behest of many of my facebook friends who were unhappy at the state of the house we were living in and wanted to help us get out of it. At the time, my partner was working and we were looking for a four bed, private rent house.

Fast forward a year of trying to cope with the house, the kids and the baby and the space issue was definitely a problem. As was the deteriorating condition of the house. Between my Health Visitor and the EHO we had a new boiler put in (the Landlord was not happy with this) and a charity was referred to us for helping us with the children.

TOH had also lost his job and the back pain that had been intermittant problem had blossomed into a living hell for him. I was more than a little stressed and having monthly meltdowns, which I coped with by comfort eating.

Fast Forward another half a year or so and the EHO had been called in again by a mental health charity that was supposed to be helping me get control of myself. This was Spring 2016.

Over a single month (july in fact) we found ourselves being blamed for wet rot and a damp issue before being evicted. The Landlord spent August fixing the roof and a few other things to be able to sell the house (their reason for evicting us) and between the family stresses and the constant toing and froing of the Landlord (he does things himself) I had several bigger meltdowns that left me unable to deal with things properly.

The Council, once our eviction deadline had come and gone tried to put us in a single room in a hostel with a disabled bathroom. We refused on mental health grounds – we were doing our heads in, in a three bed house; can you imagine what a single room with two adults, a teen boy, a preteen girl and a toddler would have been like?

The council then found a 3 bed house, temporary licence, for us. We had to sign a waiver so that we could have it though, because there were no adaptions for TOH’s back. We did it and after a certain amount of trouble we moved in.

This is where we are now.

Don’t let it get to you
C’est la vie! That’s life,
and that’s how it’s gonna be
C’est la vie! Hold tight,
it comes right eventually.

Back to this. Over the last 3 years (2014 to 2016) I have heard these phrases so many bloody times, it makes me physically sick to hear them.

We’ve just had the offer of an adapted house. Stairlift, level entry bathroom etc. It’s 3 bedrooms. Okay. We went to take a brief look from the outside. It’s smaller than the one we are in now; I would be being optimistic if I said that we could fit. But it’s the only 3 bed adapted house that has come up and we are expected to take it.

I posted as much on FB and I got a lot of those phrases thrown at me.

Suck it up Buttercup… do this and something better will appear, no doubt and then you can get that.

I am sick and tired of being told things like that. I know I can’t control other people or events, but I am tired of being assumed of being able to do that.

We need the space that a large 3 bed or a normal 4 bed would bring – but because the kids don’t have Statements of Special need the council won’t take the Autism in our family into account. It’s not a physical disability like TOH’s back, so it doesn’t count.

It’s days like this that I wish I had won the lottery on saturday…

 

 

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