A bill you are too frightened to open. A form you don’t understand. A letter from a creditor. A benefits decision you don’t know how to challenge.
Then another envelope arrives. And another.
Before long, the pile on the kitchen table has become a constant reminder of everything you can’t face. The telephone rings and you stop answering it. You lie awake imagining what might happen, but can’t see how to stop it.
For Isaac, it began when he lost his job.
“I really thought I would find something else quite quickly. I had always worked. I wasn’t expecting to be out of work for months.
“At first, we managed. We had a bit of money put away and I cut back on anything we didn’t absolutely need. Then I started putting food and bills on the credit card. I knew I shouldn’t, but what else could I do? I kept telling myself it was only until I got another job.
“I’m neurodiverse and paperwork has never been easy for me. Once I got stressed, I just couldn’t deal with it. I’d read a letter and none of it would go in. Then I’d feel stupid, which made me want to avoid it even more.
“I started putting the envelopes in a drawer. Not even opening them. I knew that made no sense, but if I didn’t open them, I didn’t have to face what they said. Well, not that day anyway.
“I stopped answering the phone as well. Every unknown number felt like someone wanting money. I hardly slept. I’d be awake at three in the morning doing the same sums in my head and getting the same answer: there wasn’t enough.
“I didn’t tell my family how bad it was. I was embarrassed. I’d always been the one who sorted things out and suddenly I wasn’t sorting out anything.
“Someone told me to call Paperweight, but even then I hesitated. I thought, ‘What would they think of me getting myself into such a mess?’
“I finally had no choice. I made the call but I needn’t have worried. My caseworker was so calm and didn’t judge me. We sat down with all the letters and went through them one at a time. Some were urgent, some could wait and some weren’t nearly as bad as I had imagined.
“He helped me speak to the creditors and put together a proper picture of what was coming in and going out. If I didn’t understand something, he explained it again. There was no making me feel foolish.
“The debts didn’t disappear. I still had a lot to deal with. But I knew what was happening and what I needed to do next. More than anything, I wasn’t carrying the burden on my own.
“I started opening the post again. That probably sounds like a very small thing, but to me it was huge. I could sleep. I could think properly. I could start applying for jobs again.
“I only wish I had called sooner...”
Isaac is one of the growing number of people who have always coped independently until redundancy, illness, bereavement, relationship breakdown or rising living costs turn life upside down.
Paperweight provides free, confidential, practical one-to-one support. But as demand grows, the charity urgently needs more volunteer caseworkers, people who can listen, organise and remain beside someone while they find a way forward.
Paperweight also needs the generosity of our community. Every service is free to those who need it – but it is not free to provide.
This New Year, you can help someone open that envelope, make that call and begin to believe that life can become manageable again.
To find out more about Paperweight’s services, become a volunteer caseworker or support its work, see paperweight.org.uk or email info@paperweight.org.uk
Isaac’s name has been changed to protect his privacy
Registered charity 1146302.