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Tony Abbott has decided to set his sights on those lazy fucking faux-cripples on disability that aren't in a wheelchair. Apparently, if you can still walk you should be working, you handless fuck.
An entire *third* of those on the Disability Pension will be scrutinised, forced to do two job interviews a year, and to have their health constantly checked upon, just in case they might miraculously get better.
Oh, dearest Mr. Abbott. If by the grace of God above, my endometriosis and accompanying nerve sensitivity suddenly disappears, believe you-fucking-me you would not be able to put the letter in the mail that asked me to look for work. I'd already be out there, getting the first data entry job I could find, planning multiple nights out at gay nightclubs and meeting with my doctor to discuss weaning myself off of all the freakin' painkillers I'm dependent upon as a part of my condition.
Does he *honestly* think that any of the people on Disability at this moment enjoy only getting roughly 330 bucks a fortnight to live off? For me, the Disability Pension was a last-ditch attempt at finding an income that didn't involve me using every last inch of my strength getting to and from a place of employment.
The HELL I went through getting signed on to this pension is unbelievable. Just go back to my 2008 archives and you'll find scads of entries filled with expletives and desperation. I had to go through countless Job Capacity Assessments, Centrelink kept signing me up to disability-centred job agencies, to whom I had to apologetically inform that it was pointless trying to find me work as at that moment in time, I was waking up in agony, taking pills and being blissed out of my mind on painkillers for four hours a day at least. The stress of it all probably didn't help.
When you apply for the Disability Pension here in Australia, you have to prove, without shadow of a doubt, that your condition will NOT improve for the next X amount of years. You have to have a report form ever damned doctor that ever poked or prodded you in the name of your condition, detailing exactly what's wrong with you. Chasing that shit down is EXHAUSTING, yo.
And the worst thing, the most DEPRESSING and soul-destroying part of it all is explaining to people, over and over again, exactly HOW you are disabled, and how your life is impacted, and what a day in your life is like. It was when I was going through that, over and over again, that I was starkly reminded of how my life had changed from what it used to be, and it depressed me beyond words.
Tony Abbott wants to make it harder than this. He wants people like me, people with invisible disabilities, to use up all our spoons just getting enough to live. He is saying that we don't deserve energy for social occasions, for sitting down and watching TV, for caring for family, for taking that rare walk. We MUST have that job, and tough fucking luck if that drains us of every last drop of energy we have. Fake crips don't deserve all that superfluous fun stuff anyway.
He doesn't know that the Disability Pension makes it so that I can have a fulfilling, happy life. Mostly. I won't lie that I'm broke a lot and finding enough money to pay for all the things I need can get pretty stressful. But I have the energy for the vital things - exercise, taking care of my cats, helping out my parents when I have the spare energy, going to the shops and buying food (when I have the energy), doing my art and my writing and my music (which I think has a positive worth for the culture of the communities I live in), oh and just looking after myself day to day (showers take energy, dressing takes energy, feeding myself home-prepared gluten-free foods takes energy).
My mother and I aren't voting for Tony Abbott. My Dad, usually a staunch Liberals supporter, will not be voting for Tony Abbott. Even he can't defy the flow of cash, and this household will be VERY badly hit if that particular plan went through. Both Mum and I would likely fall into that targetted third.
So, you know, good on you, Tony Abbott. Keep going, you raging twit.
An entire *third* of those on the Disability Pension will be scrutinised, forced to do two job interviews a year, and to have their health constantly checked upon, just in case they might miraculously get better.
Oh, dearest Mr. Abbott. If by the grace of God above, my endometriosis and accompanying nerve sensitivity suddenly disappears, believe you-fucking-me you would not be able to put the letter in the mail that asked me to look for work. I'd already be out there, getting the first data entry job I could find, planning multiple nights out at gay nightclubs and meeting with my doctor to discuss weaning myself off of all the freakin' painkillers I'm dependent upon as a part of my condition.
Does he *honestly* think that any of the people on Disability at this moment enjoy only getting roughly 330 bucks a fortnight to live off? For me, the Disability Pension was a last-ditch attempt at finding an income that didn't involve me using every last inch of my strength getting to and from a place of employment.
The HELL I went through getting signed on to this pension is unbelievable. Just go back to my 2008 archives and you'll find scads of entries filled with expletives and desperation. I had to go through countless Job Capacity Assessments, Centrelink kept signing me up to disability-centred job agencies, to whom I had to apologetically inform that it was pointless trying to find me work as at that moment in time, I was waking up in agony, taking pills and being blissed out of my mind on painkillers for four hours a day at least. The stress of it all probably didn't help.
When you apply for the Disability Pension here in Australia, you have to prove, without shadow of a doubt, that your condition will NOT improve for the next X amount of years. You have to have a report form ever damned doctor that ever poked or prodded you in the name of your condition, detailing exactly what's wrong with you. Chasing that shit down is EXHAUSTING, yo.
And the worst thing, the most DEPRESSING and soul-destroying part of it all is explaining to people, over and over again, exactly HOW you are disabled, and how your life is impacted, and what a day in your life is like. It was when I was going through that, over and over again, that I was starkly reminded of how my life had changed from what it used to be, and it depressed me beyond words.
Tony Abbott wants to make it harder than this. He wants people like me, people with invisible disabilities, to use up all our spoons just getting enough to live. He is saying that we don't deserve energy for social occasions, for sitting down and watching TV, for caring for family, for taking that rare walk. We MUST have that job, and tough fucking luck if that drains us of every last drop of energy we have. Fake crips don't deserve all that superfluous fun stuff anyway.
He doesn't know that the Disability Pension makes it so that I can have a fulfilling, happy life. Mostly. I won't lie that I'm broke a lot and finding enough money to pay for all the things I need can get pretty stressful. But I have the energy for the vital things - exercise, taking care of my cats, helping out my parents when I have the spare energy, going to the shops and buying food (when I have the energy), doing my art and my writing and my music (which I think has a positive worth for the culture of the communities I live in), oh and just looking after myself day to day (showers take energy, dressing takes energy, feeding myself home-prepared gluten-free foods takes energy).
My mother and I aren't voting for Tony Abbott. My Dad, usually a staunch Liberals supporter, will not be voting for Tony Abbott. Even he can't defy the flow of cash, and this household will be VERY badly hit if that particular plan went through. Both Mum and I would likely fall into that targetted third.
So, you know, good on you, Tony Abbott. Keep going, you raging twit.
