Fit note: Amy’s story

Amy shares her thoughts on what it’s like to be out of work whilst living with a mental illness. 

What happens when all your worth to society is encapsulated in one thing alone?

We hear over and again about work. About ‘hard working people’ and employment. This is being done for hard working people or that is being done for hard working people. You have to be in the ‘club’. 

As a person with complex physical and mental health conditions, I have been ‘working’ to work for a long time. I work now more than I ever have done. In part, because not being able to be an employee has made me ‘less than’ in the eyes of society. I fight harder in the vain attempt to be what society and the government wants. Yet, I cannot achieve that. I am not what they consider a ‘working person’. I am therefore a failure.

Yet why is that? I help a multitude of national and local charities in so many different ways. I help researchers. I write for organisations and universities; am deeply embedded in lived experience work for the NHS. I work to help people. Yet, none of it seems to matter. It does not count. 

I used to work full-time in a well-paid successful position – production planning with asset management within the defence sector. I paid my taxes and National Insurance. So, back then, I counted as a person. But things with my mental and physical health took a terrible turn for many reasons. I was rushed to hospital in an inexplicably bad state and had to stop working.

Because of my health, I am no longer eligible to be an employee. Apparently, I need too much flexibility. I am too awkward. Too much of a liability, perhaps.

Now, more than ever before, employers do not wish to employ a disabled person with health conditions. On the one hand, it is just too difficult; on the other, too expensive. With ever decreasing job opportunities, what chance does anyone have, let alone someone with complex health challenges?

And therein lies the rub. The more we are vilified, the worse the picture becomes. Economically, morally, ethically. 

Since then, in spite of the extraordinarily steep decline in my health, I have tried to do whatever work I can. Tried many routes, pathways, schemes, charities and interventions. Any way forward. It didn’t work. So, I had to create and cultivate work for myself. Seeking to help people in any way I possibly can.

Unsurprisingly, my extremely bad mental health has only worsened. Gradually, quietly, slowly, but very surely. I am no longer a person now. I do not feel like much of anything. My identity has ebbed away. 

The truth is that every human being does have something to give, which is much more than whatever ‘work’ is alone. Whether we know it or not, we do count and do matter. Collectively and separately. All of us who know the extreme hardship of mental health decline know the truth of that reality, which the constant noises and voices around us seek to diminish.

Whatever occurs now or going forward, my message to anyone struggling with debilitating mental or physical health is this: whether you ‘work’ or not, whether you’re an employee or not, you are unique, and you have something to share with the world. Something of value. Do not let yourself be torn down further. There is a movement and more fight building amongst all of us in our collective boat. We are not alone. 

Author's note:

"Writing for Rethink has been a lovely process. The subject matter itself has obviously been challenging, but being connected and encouraged throughout has been very positive."