To those who’ve just arrived, this blog is a follow-on to ‘ESA50 and all that‘, so this forms part of my supporting evidence.
At the moment, the ESA50 occupies space on my table. It’s like having some lethally toxic creature patiently waiting for me to try and fill it in because that’s when its poisonous narrative bites. I must explain myself, again, to a system that doesn’t want to hear my responses so much, it appears to give no fucks if their process kills me. I will fill it in eventually but I need to record my experience first. If the DWP decision-maker needs as much information as possible, I’m all for giving it to them.
So, for the record, since my last post, my physiological system has gone into shock FOUR times. If I don’t lie down immediately, I pass out. Each time, it takes longer to recover. What energy levels I did have are now crashing. This is due to the fact that I have this ESA50 monstrosity contaminating my home with its noxious narratives and threatening to take it all from me, even down to my life itself. It’s impact is subliminal to limbic levels on my psyche and my existential ‘death’ alarm communicates itself through the psyche/soma connections. It can be measured in small ways too like, I have developed a cold sore – my first in so long, I can’t recall the last time I had one.
These are the symptoms I am reporting some four days after receiving the form. I do hope my Coroner, or some other socially-responsible adult, consults experts in relation to my claim the physiological/psychological response to the ESA50 puts my life in danger, given my existing diagnosis of progressive heart failure; that by the very sending of the form, the WCA process endangers my life and even if my decision-maker decided that my claim for ESA is genuine, I still have to go through all the collapses which that letter would trigger.
One last thing… at the moment, I get chest pains even thinking about going near that thing. That’s why I haven’t attempted to yet.
It’s at times like these, Death puts in an appearance in my Otherworld. For those who weren’t aware already, I’m been fully committed to my shamanic disciplines since 2001, having begun the path in 1999. It means I have active inner-dimensions within my imagination and they often come to assist me at times like these.
I like Death; he’s handsome all the way through with a wicked sense of humour. Over the years, when I’ve been on the edge of the suicide precipice, Death has shown up. He’s good company at such times. In the past, I’d ask ‘Is it time?’ and he’d reply ‘Not yet’. This time, he’s not saying… he says the matter is out of his hands. It is. My Goddess is involved. The DWP issued their death-wish monster right in the middle of my Goddess manifesting an impossible dream come true for a young woman on our planet. Tomorrow it will be true and my shamanic work would have been complete. Had the ESA50 come tomorrow, my Goddess’s direct involvement would have been over… but it didn’t, and it isn’t… and she is.
So, how do I express this? In my personal spiritual narrative, I am servant to my Goddess – a pair of human hands who can enable her will to manifest into Life. We had already spent six weeks working together to manifest an impossible dream for a young woman, and before it is quite complete, the Dark Side launches an existential killing curse at her servant. So, lasses, if your Otherworld contained a Goddess dealing with my situation, how would yours respond?
I have said as much as I am presently allowed to say about the dream-come-true Goddess work performed so far. but it does inform my approach to the ESA50 monster in the present both on a personal level as well as extending to all those who would choose be included in a community that had me as one of its shaman.
As a shaman (a closer description for my faith than witch), my spiritual responsibility extends beyond the personal – we work to benefit of our community. In this situation, my immediate community are all those like me, facing their ESA50, all those subjected to WCA’s, all those who lost, all those who died, every single soul who fell through this toxic social so-called ‘net’. We are multitudes, herded into the arms of Death by the DWP ‘points system’ scapegoating narrative of in the name of austerity.
This Dark Side ‘sacrifice’ to their tyrant ‘god’ of money consists of a gluttonous feeding on the death, pain, misery and suffering of others. It’s eventual outcome is always complete annihilation of Life itself. The energy created is what permits them to reduce the worth of my existence to ‘points’ in order to move ‘stock’ off ESA… in any way they can, including cheating. It’s already killed thousands and now it’s killing me. This is its purpose.
So here I am, a shaman (by anthropological definition), now dealing with the Scapegoat ritual death-curse whilst in the middle of completing a dream-come-true level spiritwork. So what to do?
The way to break this curse is for the scapegoat marked for death to be willing. To die willingly to benefit of my own communities – the lost/exiled/rejected/abused? It’s that exact sacrifice which cleanses my ‘flock’ of its sins and returns them to innocence & makes the ritual work properly. Since we all have to die sometime, what’s not to like about this way? My inner warrior says this is an honourable death. In my Otherworld, it’s called an Obi-wan moment, that ‘if you kill me now I’ll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine’ and regarded as an opportunity no self-respecting community shaman worth their salt whilst in service to Love would fail to answer gladly, especially if my death were the result of an intent to kill. I believe that if the DWP decision-maker decides to refer me to a WCA, given already disclosed information about my health and mental health as a result of the ESA50, that would prove intent to kill. Where my blogs allow me to speak from the grave? What a way to go! For all those reasons, I am willing. And, No, I don’t rule out miracles – when my Goddess is involved, there are always miracles but I’ve learned to trust. If my death is necessary, then I die with a glad heart and walk away into the sunset with my beautiful friend Death. We both knew it would come to this someday.
I’ll face down their form and complete it… and this blog will be attached, for my decision-maker’s attention, with love from my Goddess and Death.
I wonder how it feels to have the power of life or death over another human being… as a routine part of your job.
Perhaps you forgot? I hope you’re competent and actually read these additional submissions with my ESA50, so I can gently remind you that it is my life or death you are deciding upon now… provided I’m still alive by the time it comes to you making your decision about my claim for ESA.
Which way will your thumb turn, I wonder?
Please be careful when you decide, for I would argue to a Coroner that the actions of the poor unfortunate decision-maker who sent me to my death-by-WCA point to a blatant disregard for my health and mental health, especially in the light of supporting evidence provided.
I feel for you. I really wouldn’t want to be in your position, especially not when facing down a dying shaman in the middle of her life-death-life ritual.
There will be more to come. This is all I can cope with at the moment.