A day in the life in the lucky country

Milk + honey is out of your budget sorry.

You wake up exhausted. It has now been six months since you had any respite. Your carer is no longer working due to the endless changes to support criteria being made without notice causing them too much stress.

You interviewed a new carer but they didn’t turn up for the in person meet.

Now the Government has removed your child’s ability to do Riding for the Disabled at school and sensory classes he is becoming overwhelmed and is struggling in class. You can no longer use funding for your child’s swimming lessons which helped them calm their body after school.

You’d been working in that 40 minute swimming window as well - but it’s gone now. Gone too is the app you used to have funded that helped your child with their speech therapy - it filled the gap as there are no available private speech therapists in your area and the public waiting list is 14 months long.

You have tried to keep the stress down at home but your child is overwhelmed and so are you. You work part-time in the public sector and you know your job is at risk. You know you’ll be easy to cut as you’ve had to take more sick leave than anyone else because your child is medically fragile.

The school keeps ringing you asking you to pick up your child. You recently bought them home and they were lethargic and sweating. You called your GP but they’re booked out for the next three weeks.

You take them to the after hours medical centre and it’s packed. After a two hour wait your child is prescribed antibiotics and you move money from your emergency account to your emergency account to pay the $70 for the appointment. You’d gone to a cheaper provider you’d heard about but the lines were out the door.

You have no sick leave left and your child will be home for the rest of the week. You have no emergency money left as you had to use it for petrol and to pay for the after hours appointment.

When you couldn’t afford your child’s bus fare to get to school you had to use the car which had some petrol, but now of course it doesn’t.

You have a repeat for anti-anxiety medication for yourself but it costs $28 and then $5 per medication at the chemist and you know you can’t afford that and meals for the week so you don’t get it.

You went to the food bank last month, something you’ve never had to do before. It was the second food bank you went to because the first one was not able to take on any more families because they were declined government funding.

The 5% increase in your rent meant your budget simply fell apart. You know if you lose your job you won’t be able to keep your rental. You let go of the insurance you’ve had for the last 20 years - it went up by 16.5% and you needed the money for your child’s school uniform.

Most days when you wake up you feel hopeless, you know you’re burn out but what can you do? Taking a day off just for your own health isn’t possible. You thought about having a telehealth appointment just to talk about the hopelessness you’re feeling, the ‘I don’t want to wake up’ feeling but then you couldn’t get through.

Another parent told you about a place that provides counselling but they said they had no funding for new clients.

You’re hungry. But you know that the kids need to eat first so you’ll be going without again.

As you get into bed next to your kids - they’re sleeping with you to save money because you can’t afford the power bill with the heater on - you think about where you’re at.

You’ve worked hard your whole life. You’ve saved. You’ve tried to be kind to others. You’ve volunteered in your community. You have given to others, loved and been loved in return.

You’re struggling to recognise the country you live in. Maybe it’s always been like this but everything feels meaner.

You turn on your phone to distract yourself from another hard day.

The top story speaks of a country you don’t feel you’re part of anymore. A teenager bought a house by selling turnips on the side of the road and accepting an $800,000 loan from his dad. A rich lister says he would consider a wealth tax if every New Zealander earning under $120,000 strokes the spot between his balls and butthole for 20 seconds. Chris Bishop has announced every teenager who buys a packet of cigarettes will also get a free gun. A model says she healed her cancer with a new lifestyle trend called ‘Being Rich’. One of the Wiggles has been cloned. Winston Peters was stuck for six hours in a revolving door because he forgot how they worked. David Seymour held a press conference where he said he wouldn’t only fight supermarket regulation he would personally punch the first parent he sees trying to buy budget bread for their kid’s school lunch. Christopher Luxon has announced that in two days newly minted trillionaire Elon Musk will be invited to New Zealand to pick 300 old people to be ceremonially sacrificed in a new reality TV show called Mr Beast X Musk Games. A two bedroom squat in central Auckland has sold for $64 million dollars with the disappointed real estate agent saying “someone got a bargain”.

You turn off your phone and close your eyes.

Yes, it’s been hard. The hardest it’s ever been. But, at least your landlord is getting a share of the $2.9 billion dollar tax break gift from the Government. This gift was $800 million more than what was budgeted for but you don’t mind. Your landlord is one of 346 landlords who own at least 200 properties. They stand to make around $464 million between them.

When you think about how painful life is now, how hopeless you feel and the devastating impact government cuts have had on your family and community you remind yourself of the landlords.

This is all being done for a reason.

The landlords need their money - at the expense of your ability to live - and isn’t that worth it in the end?