Nothing in life ever goes to plan really, does it? Now, having been looking at and chasing up a place to live from Estate Agents websites for Eastleigh area or Southampton itself, I am at a loss. Housing rent allowance will only be 460 for me - my son will never count as far as what they will allow me to have rent allowance for of course, so I can only go for a 1 bedroomed place, or a two if I can find another 200-250 a month from out of the sky, to pay for the rent each month.
Guess I've been away too long from the UK, when I can't even hardly find a studio flat for the amount of allowance I could be given - and for the next few months I can't work to make up the difference in rent either. I don't mind getting a one bedroomed place as my son will not be able to live full time with me for a while after he comes over (I hope to God that my friends in Soton can do it - otherwise I will have a meltdown I think) but most of the bloody places online were let a couple of weeks ago and no one took it off the site, have been poached by unknown websites and don't really exist now, will not allow DSS or some other such problem.
Looks like it's getting impossible for me to go to Soton - but the alternative in being here and stuck on the side of this mountain for weeks and weeks more with 'cabin-fever' is alarming for me. I've only been to the shops four times in two and a half months - and only short periods. I can't seem to be able to get out and do anything normal....and dear old Don doesn't go out much, only food shopping once a week and not to where I'd like to have a wander when feeling up to it.
Did the lottery in hopes that I might win a small prize, but nothing doing there!! Friends in Soton will try to find me a place this week - but it's not so much a problem in finding a place, but paying for it!
I wonder a lot now, why God allowed this cancer to happen when we were SO close to simply applying for my son's study visa after ten years of hard work and interminable stress associated with it and can't come up with any reasoning myself and that even now, things are so difficult in the aftermath of the diagnosis, that it just feels like my son is slipping away from me little by little each day - until one day I'll turn around and the entire dream will have gone.
In truth, it feels like I have already lost him.
