#smalltowninertia Carlos in his apartment, in prayer July 2017 The interior of Carlo’s apartment is sparse, a small television and stereo, a fish tank, a few old photographs of his estranged family, a table, chairs, a single bed, his Bible and his medication. Immediately upon my arrival, Carlos showed me copious correspondence regarding health assessments to determine if he is eligible for continued support and benefits to, essentially, given the nature of his illness, keep him alive. Left in a state of terror and confusion, ‘Is my Doctor talking with the assessors?’ , ‘Why are benefits changing?’, ‘Why am I being called to be assessed?’ , the past few months have been a nightmare, every moment abducted by fear with the resulting stress having a detrimental impact on his condition and his mental well being. Carlos works hard at mastering the language but people rush words, have such little patience, correspondence is in English and vague at best and he has no transport, no phone and it’s painful and very difficult to move, to walk. The stress, the constant downpour of stress, the anxiety, the isolation, little to no money, all make life and living, harder and harder. In spite of his health challenges, Carlos wanted and wants to work. He had an interview and secured a job at a local factory, packing boxes but as soon as they learned of his illness, he was dismissed. It all became too much, where to turn and how to breathe beneath the weight of such fears, problems?. When Carlos attempted suicide, he had nowhere and no one to turn to. “Jesus Christ appeared to me and said ‘NO!, Carlos, now it is not your time.” Keeping the noose on the shelf of a small table, often picking it up, holding it, folding it into the palm of his hands, letting it slip through his fingers, a dark black snake, an anti rosary, remembering. Yesterday, after much talking, we decided it best to take it and throw it into the trash. Afterwards, Carlos read from his bible and prayed.
