Good god, where to start..?! Hello, I'm Jack Monroe. I can't possibly know anything about living in a freezing, damp flat with no food in the cupboards and a growing toddler to feed and clothe because I only did it for a year and a half, rather than a lifetime. I wouldn't wish it on anyone for a week and a half, mind you. It's a freezing, miserable, shit existence that is well documented because I had to write it down or I would have gone mad. I had to get it out of my system, off my chest, and writing has always been a natural thing to me. I didn't really expect anyone to read it, and I certainly didn't predict the turn of events that happened afterwards.
Secondly, I'm really sorry that when I had a job, I bought some herb plants for my window ledge, and that when I lost that job, I still bloody had them. Nothing dishonest about that, and god knows I've blogged enough about how to keep them alive, dry them out, et cetera. I factor in the cost of 'fresh' herbs to my Guardian recipes as I know not everyone has a bloody window box, but at the time I was writing about how I was living not how people should live.
Lastly, lesbians have wombs and periods and fallopian tubes and everything. Reproduction isn't beyond me, clearly. I've never elaborated on my personal life all over newspapers and public message boards because I would like to protect the people that I care about from the abuse and scrutiny that I get on a daily basis - if you read between the lines you'll see I had a relationship with a man that produced a child. That relationship clearly didn't work out, but I had a good job with (what I thought was) good arrangements for parents judging by the lip service they paid to flexible working arrangements in all of their policy books etc. At the age of 22 and having lost a child previously, I decided - with my sons father - to keep our baby. That decision ultimately lost me my job, as I applied for all those flexible working policies and didn't get them.
Ironically, my 'great salary' proved to be the sticking point with benefit agencies and housing benefit was 11 weeks late, and frequently suspended and delayed. My tax credits were suspended for months while they 'recalculated' due to my 'drop in income more than £10k a year.' And it all went really horribly wrong.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing. If I'd known then what I know now, I might have gone off sick for months on end while I found another job. I might have successfully topped myself instead of the half-arsed attempt with the beta blockers and sleeping pills (I resigned from my job in hospital following an overdose, but the media gloss over that bit). Who knows what I would have done differently? I don't claim to be anything, and I'm not an expert in anything except my own experiences, but don't try to invalidate them by saying I wasn't poor 'enough' for long 'enough' or that it's all pretend because I made some rose water out of some free effing roses I was given.
Thankyou everyone who has weighed in with facts so far - I tried so hard to keep out of this thread but I'm furious that 'Mumsnet' would question why I didn't have a fvcking abortion FFS!