Today has borne witness to my first “collapse” for over three weeks. After a ready flow of tears, and a pronounced feeling of nausea, I was forced to yield to the bodies demand for rest. Perhaps ‘psychological’ factors play a more significant role in my condition than I had been prepared to admit.


A crushing bruised ache in the ribs plays ground bass to the staccato pains in knee joints and muscles, whilst the necessity to tightly clasp my upper arms to my sides has once more assimilated itself to my posture vocabulary.


A sustained dose of bureaucratically administered stress has knocked me totally off course. It is good to know that I would be the sort of stable asset that any employer might seek, for that indeed is the path I must take, when I am unable to cope with a tortuous visit to the anti-social environment of the DWP’s medical examiner.



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