There were a lot of people at the food bank today. I'm vegetarian, so I don't have to queue early for the best things; nobody else really wants the soya milk and the tofu burgers, so there's always some left if I just wander down at quarter to ten instead. However, every week The queue has gotten longer, and it's more of the same people; disabled people, immigrants, mothers with young kids, and people with low paid jobs. I know the latter from involuntary earwigging on other people's phone calls and conversations. The woman behind me today

I can't be on social media today, I'm too stressed about this DWP phone call tomorrow. It's crushing me, I just want it to be over and I really wish I could sleep until tomorrow. I'm angry all the time and that doesn't come naturally to me. I got the letter today; DWP letterhead, But it's from Independent Assessment Services, whose job it is (they tell me) to help the DWP understand how my health condtition or disability affects my daily life. As opposed to, say, asking my doctors, I presume. In short, disabled people have been farmed out for profit.

I want to write a thread about my friend Ian. Some comrades will remember him, I've done several threads over the last couple of years; he was on ESA but failed the medical both for ESA and PIP about 16 months ago. In spited of his extensive health problems, he was put on UC. At 58, he has frozen shoulders, whitefinger, osteoarthritis and brittle bones; the legacy of a lifetime's work on the roads, laying tarmac and operating heavy machinery in all weathers. However, he got 0 points for PIP and his ESA was cancelled immediately.

I'm so angry. Portsmouth City Council have started eviction proceedings against my friend for "breaking his tenancy agreement" by not paying Bedroom Tax during the Covid. This man has been waiting to hear about his PIP application since February, He's been struggling along on Universal Credit for 2 years now since he lost his ESA, going to food banks, spending 2 weeks of every month with no money at all. I've been helping with his various claims and appeals all this time, and it has been heartbreaking during the Covid.

I've spent all day on the phone to ATOS and the DWP with my friend who is going through the mortal agony of a PIP application. He is hearing-impaired and they want to do a phone assessment, he's been so stressed about this because he's simply not capable of it. So he walked round to my house, slowly and painfully, so I could, he hoped, sort out a face to face assessment some time in the future. He understands it wouldn't be immediate but, though he desperately needs the extra money, he'd rather wait.

I want to write a bit about poverty, and what it does to your brain. I couldn't do my #SocialistSunday lists yesterday, because I couldn't think further than hunger, and the worry of not having a penny in the bank. My mind was full of how to feed the cat, and my daughter. For the last 10 days or so, the only thought on my mind has been "Can we make it to next Monday? Will the electricity last? Will a bill go out when I'm overdrawn and wipe out next week's money as well?" I've been tired and stressed, and so tired of being stressed.