Extract from The Guardian
One big meal a day means skipping things that for most are a daily given
Name: Mick Smart
Age: 32
Turning point: Was injured falling down a retaining wall as a work-for-the-dole contractor. Now suffers chronic pain and mobility issues and is unable to find work.
Lives: Lakes Entrance, Victoria.
After housing costs has to live on: $245 a week.
The last few months have been quite a test of mettle – physically, emotionally and spiritually – with the anniversary of my injuries during work for the dole approaching. It serves as a reminder of two years struggling with chronic pain and the financial stress of being trapped on unemployment. Where being frugal means going without, while trying to save becomes increasingly difficult when accounting for medical expenses regardless of an incredibly small budget.
Almost everything is a balancing act, sacrificing something you want for something you may need later in the week – knowing what you can live without and how to bulk buy “on the cheap” becomes an essential skill. My one big meal a day means skipping things that for most are a daily given, like phone and internet, travel and transport, seeing a show, going out with friends. Everything gets put on pause while attempting to manage a fortnightly budget, with every day a reminder that you’re poor.
I live with my partner and all our belongings are stuffed into a spare bedroom at the grace of her family – surviving unemployment has a fair amount to do with the generosity of others.
We want to start a life together in our own place but I can’t afford bond let alone weekly rent. I can’t afford a ring for our engagement or even a pet together and, as for career goals, I am neither certified nor have the necessary experience for most of the jobs available, especially since I have spent most of my life as a manual labourer in some form or another. Each day is about pain management and treatment for a back injury, so manual labour is definitely out of the question. I can’t even do a stack of dishes or go for a walk without suffering the consequences.
"I have been with multiple job agencies for three years and not even once have we discussed a potential job"
I’ve been with my partner for four years and, as she’s spent the last two years of our relationship putting up with my pain and emotional instability, she remains my queen. She shops when I cannot and is by my side through countless doctor appointments and hospital visits, helping keep my sanity and dignity while I’m hobbling around on a cane. She is and continues to be the silver lining to what has been a terrible situation that would have ended me if not for her support.
I have been with multiple job agencies for three years and not even once have we discussed a potential job. My life is full of seemingly endless and ultimately pointless appointments, and every fortnight comes with a reminder of “mutual” obligation activities – volunteering, mandatory job searches, bogus training programs – all with an assessed work capacity that seems to disregard my medical condition.
Age: 32
Turning point: Was injured falling down a retaining wall as a work-for-the-dole contractor. Now suffers chronic pain and mobility issues and is unable to find work.
Lives: Lakes Entrance, Victoria.
After housing costs has to live on: $245 a week.
The last few months have been quite a test of mettle – physically, emotionally and spiritually – with the anniversary of my injuries during work for the dole approaching. It serves as a reminder of two years struggling with chronic pain and the financial stress of being trapped on unemployment. Where being frugal means going without, while trying to save becomes increasingly difficult when accounting for medical expenses regardless of an incredibly small budget.
Almost everything is a balancing act, sacrificing something you want for something you may need later in the week – knowing what you can live without and how to bulk buy “on the cheap” becomes an essential skill. My one big meal a day means skipping things that for most are a daily given, like phone and internet, travel and transport, seeing a show, going out with friends. Everything gets put on pause while attempting to manage a fortnightly budget, with every day a reminder that you’re poor.
I live with my partner and all our belongings are stuffed into a spare bedroom at the grace of her family – surviving unemployment has a fair amount to do with the generosity of others.
We want to start a life together in our own place but I can’t afford bond let alone weekly rent. I can’t afford a ring for our engagement or even a pet together and, as for career goals, I am neither certified nor have the necessary experience for most of the jobs available, especially since I have spent most of my life as a manual labourer in some form or another. Each day is about pain management and treatment for a back injury, so manual labour is definitely out of the question. I can’t even do a stack of dishes or go for a walk without suffering the consequences.
"I have been with multiple job agencies for three years and not even once have we discussed a potential job"
I’ve been with my partner for four years and, as she’s spent the last two years of our relationship putting up with my pain and emotional instability, she remains my queen. She shops when I cannot and is by my side through countless doctor appointments and hospital visits, helping keep my sanity and dignity while I’m hobbling around on a cane. She is and continues to be the silver lining to what has been a terrible situation that would have ended me if not for her support.
I have been with multiple job agencies for three years and not even once have we discussed a potential job. My life is full of seemingly endless and ultimately pointless appointments, and every fortnight comes with a reminder of “mutual” obligation activities – volunteering, mandatory job searches, bogus training programs – all with an assessed work capacity that seems to disregard my medical condition.
There are 30 hours a fortnight of work activity requirements when I can barely manage general daily function, and having my payments subtly or directly threatened seems more about compliance than it does “support”. This practice continues with even my current DES [Disability Employment Services] job agent, set inside a recently closed optometry store that is now up for lease.
The front half of the store sits empty, then there is a tiny storage room with a few stacked boxes, a non-functional office printer and a dentist’s chair that just so happens to be used for fitting dentures on the weekend, and way in the back sits my employment consultant. On the desk a hand me down-looking laptop tethered to a mobile network for internet, a notepad and pen for jotting down notes about my efforts at gaining work or study.
The whole process makes me feel swept aside, degraded, humiliated and abandoned, my way of life destroyed and left with daily chronic pain, a monster I have to now manage while also juggling these unnecessary hurdles.
Nobody wants my recovery or return to work more than me but not only am I now a liability to employers in my current condition, but I am still investigating and seeking treatment for an injury for which I believe work for the dole is ultimately responsible. I’m constantly waiting on specialists, attending physio, trying to climb my way back out after falling down the rabbit hole and hitting rock bottom.
I continue to fight for my health and happiness while both broke and unemployed. I spend each day and sometimes multiple times a day doing stretches to recondition my spine and meditation to combat stress. I also lightly exercise at least three to five times a week and go for short walks when I can, but overall every day is about recovery and pain management.
I converse with chronic pain groups, volunteer my creative skills to produce design or social media projects for multiple unions, like the Anti-Poverty Network SA and the Australian Unemployed Workers’ Union. There can be no match to the level of support I have received from these groups – even simply talking to others who likewise struggle with unemployment. It keeps me afloat.
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