Stupid me, stupid me and my stupid expectations. All this time, these past 6 months... Through all the struggle and stress of the pathetic support services thrown at me and the lack of interest and/or threatening crap from the the mental health service. I thought if I kept hanging in there that things would work out, eventually. In short.. I spent many, many years holed up inside my flat. I'd be lucky if I'd make it outside once a week for food shopping, unless it was to the local shop less than a block away to buy cigarettes and booze. That was my life, I didn't think past that. If I could have dealt with delivery men, I wouldn't even have gone for the weekly food shop. About 2 and a half years ago, least I think it's that long. My sense of time is getting worse and worse. That's when I started trying to rebuild my life from the wreckage it had become. It was slow. It was incredibly painful. I took more than my fair share of knocks along the way. And I needed support. A LOT of support. Back then, it was in the shape of my mother giving me a lift in her car to every appointment that cropped up. Fortunately for me she was on flexi time, and between us we'd manage to work out transport, as long as I didn't want to actually get to too much. God forbid I'd actually want a normal life. Yeah I still had zero friends. Yeah I still had zero social life. But it was a start. It took 2 and a half years, it was slow, and hard, but it was a start. I thought I could see a way back to some sort of life.. somehow. Then I cut contact with my family in November. And in the new year I got some terrible support workers. It really didn't work out at all. At first I thought if I tried over and over to tell them my needs, they'd adapt. But I am at a point where I have to hold my hands up and say no more. They were doing a ton more damage that if I'd just been on my own. So on Friday of last week I have a meeting to discuss the support. It is explained to me that even if I were to get a different support agency, there would be no car available (part of the giant amounts of stress in the previous support was that I couldn't deal with getting on buses). Meaning I have to get public transport. To those who don't have problems with that it might seem silly or lazy. But to be in close quarters with people on a bus.. if just a horrible horrible thing for me. I don't have the words to explain how it makes me feel, except to say I think the number of times I've been on a bus now is up to 4 times in 9 years, I think. I explained that I could probably do one offs.. Where I worked up the nerve for ages to make one journey safe in the knowledge that I wouldn't have to make that trip for a very long time again. I can't do it on a regular basis. I was told that it was either that or nothing. I said that I had no choice and that I simply couldn't handle getting on and off buses a few times a week. So I have to choose nothing. The working at going out (to appointments). The starting to shape the beginnings of a life for the first time in a long time. It's all gone. I'm right back at square one. It's all for nothing. And as I sat there, crying my eyes out with this lady telling me in no uncertain terms will there ever be a car available, I felt like my whole world crumbled beneath me. All today I kept checking my email. I wanted my family to email and tell me their sorry. That they should have treated me like I was good enough. That I wasn't a failure. That they want a second chance, and they'll do right by me this time. But no email has come. Why would it? They don't know about this stuff with the support people. They don't know anything about me anymore. I don't know anymore what I'm supposed to fight for anymore. It's all gone.