I've decided to join in with the 100 day project.  Devised by the folks over at The Great Discontent it's pretty much what it implies, a project spanning 100 days.  They explain it as such:

It explains in more detail in the link up there^
but here's the short version.
You sign up to their newsletter & follow their Instagram accounts, these give you ideas, suggestions, ways to keep going as well as being able to see what they're doing in their own project(s).
You choose an action to carry out each day for 100 days, starting on April 6th (yeah, I'm arriving more-than-fashionably-late to this party but that's allowed.)
You post each day on Instagram using #the100dayproject as well as your own unique tag, so people can choose to see all of everyone's contributions or just yours.
You announce your project (like I'm doing now), then you just get stuck in, posting up your progress in picture form every day for people so see.

...that's what my unique hashtag will be for the project, so as you've probably figured out, my 100 days will be full of cross stitch.

As you can imagine you can't really do a whole major project each day so I'll be keeping them small for the most part & doing some projects that link together to form a bigger picture.  I don't want to impose too many rules on myself & make this any harder than it already is...we all know my health isn't entirely predictable & a tiny cross stitch is, I'm hoping, still possible most days.  The good news as well is, none of these charts will be for sale in the shop so copyright isn't a worry & I can do a few cheeky fan-art pieces if the urge takes me.

So that's it really, now you know.

Oh, one last thing to tell!
Mailing list subscribers will get access to the pdfs of any patterns I make, so if they want to recreate them at home they can do, for free!

So, if you've still not signed up then scroll down to the bottom of this page, or any page on MissRed.co.uk & get your name on that list!

Gotta dash, cross stitching to do!

This time last year I'd just received my final wages from my last job.

I'd started as a temp at this government quango & after a year of glowing reports, pay rises & contract extensions I was *promoted* into a permanent role.  Much as I missed teaching I knew my health wasn't up to a full time teaching role so begrudgingly accepted, relieved that my financial situation would at least become stable.

Little did I know it would all be downhill from there, the new role being nothing like the temporary roles I'd done & essentially turning me into a phone monkey.  No offence meant to anyone who works in call centre/contact centre, in fact hats off to you!  As someone with severe anxiety issues & a phone phobia I'd never have accepted the post had I been aware of the change in role!  I approached my line manager who assured me despite being put through phone training I'd soon be back in my administrative post because it would be a busy period for my team & I knew more about the process than anyone on the team (including/especially her!)  Of course just a couple of months later it'd be my word against hers that she'd made these reassurances & she'd convince management that I'd known all along what I was agreeing to when I accepted the job.  (8 hours a day on the phone being told when I'm allowed to leave my desk & watching bimbling idiots around me stuffing up the job I *used* to do really well)

After 5 months off ill followed by being pushed too hard on a phased return & being ill again occupational health & other medical professionals were unanimous in the decision that redeployment was the way forward.  Shortly after this decision was formalised I was brought in for a *redeployment* meeting.  Allegedly there was no position to move me to, despite hiring 3 new staff members to carry out the job I'd managed without illness and with glowing reports for several months.  Since I'd already had my trial period extended by three months it was decided I was incapable of carrying out the role I was hired for (no shit Sherlock!) so therefore I no longer had a job.

Obviously it hadn't been my ideal job but it had been my lifeline for almost 2 years & to suddenly just stop having any income came as a shock as well as causing many sleepless nights & exacerbating my ME .  Having already been turned down for DLA (but in the process of appealing it) I had no idea how I'd pay the bills & no optimism where new employment was concerned with over 100 sick days under my belt.  Already in a very dark place it did nothing for my mental health either, it's very difficult trying to see a silver lining when even somewhere you don't want to work but slog your heart out for doesn't think it's worth giving you a break.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger apparently ;)

Just lately when I've started talking to new people "oh, you're so lucky" has been a frequent response when I tell them I'm self-employed.

Well, the short response to that is "hell no!"

The longer response?  Lets see, I've battled for years with my health & struggled to hold down jobs my entire adult life because my M.E means I have more sick days than the average person.  As a (terminally) single woman there's never been anyone to support me financially so working part time was never really an option.  The result - working myself to death in temporary roles until I just can't work any more then having to move on & start all over again.  Oh, and don't forget the gruelling doctor/hospital/dietician/psychologist/specialist schedule in my *spare* time!

After 14 years of fighting each & every day to stay afloat I decided enough was enough.  No employer is going to give me a job that fits around my health.  DWP aren't going to support me in any way because, unlike employers, they believe being able to walk from my bed to the loo on a good day means I'm perfectly capable of holding down full time work.

I decided to set up my own business.  I did the research & courses needed to get up & running.  I searched for funding.  I went to trade fairs, put in the hours of hard work making things & perfecting my skills & tracking accounts, networking & finding out what people wanted & would buy.  I bought stock & supplies instead of food & a social life, ME!


So hell no, I'm not giving luck any credit here!  This didn't just happen to me while I sat idly by, I made all of this happen.  I work damn hard at what I do & will continue to do so because I'm passionate & motivated & sooooo stubborn that I refuse to let this fail (despite the fact that even writing this post has taken me 2 hours because my wrists & back ache too much to do it all in one go)  

I love my work & I love that the credit all belongs to me & the fantastic customer base I continue to build along the way ;)  

Just for me, next time your brain tells you that you can't do something because it's too difficult, give it a little go anyway.  You might be surprised what you CAN do!

If you're here for the cool craft goodies & don't want to know about the depressing disability stuff you may want to skip this one.  Everyone else, thanks for reading ;)

When I applied for Disability Living Allowance in March 2013 I had no idea whatsoever I'd be waiting almost an entire year for a straight yes or no.  Yesterday was my tribunal, having asked for explanations & reconsiderations, getting back up information from doctors & health care professionals...and most of all waiting...LOTS of waiting!

Anxiety is a huge trigger for me at the best of times, I feel dizzy & sick & I faint & can't breathe at the most trivial-seeming things so as you can imagine I was a bit of a mess going into this whole thing & only decided to ask for an appeal because so many decisions get overturned when showing up in person.  Because of all of this I elected my best friend as representative, thinking they'd then allow him to do all the talking & I could just chip in for anything he couldn't answer...so you can imagine my reaction when they decided to tell me this wouldn't be the case!  My representative becomes another observer, another person to look broken & ridiculous in front of, an added pressure rather than a relief.  Thanks!

I'd requested a disabled access room (though why they don't automatically use those for DLA tribunals I have no idea), so was quite frustrated when the clerk asked me if I could get out of my scooter & walk into the room because of the narrow doorways & tight turn to get into the room.  Thankfully my scooter is fairly narrow with a really good turning circle so I managed to get in & out of the room with only a few little door frame bumps.

In the room along with the clerk I was introduced to the judge, doctor & care specialist, the latter being a trainee so came with an additional observer.  Not a pleasant number of complete strangers getting to decide my fate, aargh!  As much as they say it's informal & they're all nice you can't help but feel they're just trying to trip you up & make you say the wrong thing.  The trainee care specialist in particular was very leading with her questions & extremely accusatory, at one point even earning herself what looked like a *you overstepped the mark there* glare from the judge which shut her up briefly before she went on to tell me how I should buy incontinence pads & a bed protector & a different sized chair for causing myself more kitchen injuries & adapted utensils...the list went on & needless to say none of it was affordable without the DLA money.  Despite asking if my condition was about the same now as it was in April & deciding to ask me lots of questions about now as a result, they managed to come to the conclusion that my condition is worse now than a year ago.  A year ago when I had failed to manage to get back to work even on phased return & was back on long term sick, when I was bed ridden most days, when I was completely cut off from my social life & when it was deemed necessary to redeploy me at work because I couldn't physically or mentally manage to do my job.  *As an aside, I also worked alongside 4 people diagnosed with various chronic conditions who did fine skipping around the office working full time unsupervised yet somehow all qualified for DLA. 

To cut a long story short the whole thing was awful & the final decision was to refuse me again.  In their opinion my condition has worsened since I applied, so whilst they agree I should get it now, presumably they believe it wasn't bad enough for me to need DLA at the time of the initial application.  The result of this being I get nothing whatsoever for the last year, regardless of them thinking at some point during that time my condition has become sufficiently bad enough to qualify.  There will be no back pay to the time they think my condition worsened & going forward all I can do is apply for PIPs from now.  There is the option to appeal to upper tribunal but right now I feel wrecked & broken & couldn't go through something like that (I'd genuinely rather throw myself off a cliff than endure anything like that again.)  Do I want to go through another year of this crap & attempt to get PIPs?  Not really, but with a start up business to run & a mortgage & bills to pay I can't afford not to at least try.

So, to anyone in the process of applying for similar benefits I reckon the cynic in me has to suggest you embellish, exaggerate & whine to the maximum, hell, even lie if you need to...because being ill, cut off from the world & prisoner in your own bed just isn't enough to get a few measly quid to help you function!

Those of you going through this (& I know several are), I genuinely hope you have a better experience than I have & that you're treated more fairly & are given what you deserve.  I'm sending good luck vibes your way.

*huge hugs from me*