I came to the UK in 2002 having sold most of my meagre worldly possession and resigned my job at the Polytech library. I was still optimistic and idealistic – I was coming to study Buddhism with my teachers and immerse myself in the burgeoning Buddhist culture which you will be surprised to know flourishes here in the UK. I ended up in a small UK town where I worked in various capacities for a not-for-profit business that gives the bulk of its profits to a charity whose aim is the promotion of the Buddhist religion (or something like that). It buys property with the rest of the profits.
Two years ago my health collapsed. I have struggled (successfully) with depression and anxiety all my life, but now my arms and back were in agony – I have a syndrome… fibromyalgia, or non-specific upper-limb pain (as one specialist referred to it). Bless the NHS and the generous benefits in this country – I’d be lost without them. But. Here I am a ‘bloody foreigner’ living on benefits with no savings and no prospects of ever being able to go home or be cured. I could die from embarrassment, if I don’t kill myself first.