She couldn't wait. With a mischievious smirk my mother asked if I'd heard about the latest government initiative for the unemployed. I hadn't, as it happened, but I understand that long term claimants are now going to be required to work four weeks on placement to qualify for benefits.

Actually I'm not that bothered. I did thirteen weeks of that earlier this year, so it's just more of the same to me. The point though in this case is that my mother couldn't wait to push a pin into my little bubble. She relishes every chance for that.

There are other weapons in her arsenal. Family successes are thrust in front of me too. This week a cousin was part of the line up in a photograph of the staff of a highly rated school in some newspaper or other. The idea being that I feel envious of how well other members of our family are doing while I'm clearly not.

Every time I visit she mentions how tall I'm getting. That's nonsense of course. I'm the same height I was thirty years ago, but the point here is belief. She wants me to believe what she tells me. The moment I say "Yes, I am getting taller", she wins another victory, and she'll start suggesting all sorts of things safe in the knowledge I won't argue.

So the siege of my self-esteem goes on. All part of her master plan to turn me into a Jesus creep. My mother has this mental image of what she wants me to be. She denies it, of course, but for the last thirty years she hasn't given up, believing blindly that one day my lack of success will make me realise that my spirituality is the cause of my misfortune, and that going to church on a sunday, wearing the clothes she prefers me to, having an accountant hairstyle, and all the other sundry requirements are going to make me successful.

Rubbish. She's a manipulative old woman who thinks she knows better than everyone else. The christian idea that worshipping God turns you into a success is actually bending a Commandment to the point of catastrophic failure. After all, wasn't it Jesus who said "A rich man has no more chance of entering the Kingdom of Heaven than a camel has of passing through the eye of a needle"? Does faith reward the faithful with material success? That seems a very dubious concept, but then, that's been the christian message since the 1st century.

In any case, I have other beliefs. I don;'t accept Jesus was anything other than a typical cult leader who got himself executed for undesirable activity. God is a human concept, not an absolute truth. Nor for that matter do I accept the existence of the retinue of supernatural entities invented by christians in times gone by.

Fate is the sum of all decisions and natural forces. The breakdown of my career and personal affairs happened the moment I declared myself a spiritualist. That's not divine intervention. That's malice and spite.

Pressure Is On

The news of the government initaitive to make long term claimants worjk for their money isn't a new idea. That's been mooted around for a long time. Only now, when the country is in debt to desperate levels, has the will to enforce that idea emerged.

That's only the tip of an iceberg. The mood in job centres has changed. Driven by a messianic need to uncover the workshy and dole cheat (not to mention earning brownie points at head office by doing so) the red tape involved in job searching has gone up a notch. Previously my job search booklet was enough, a simplistic table in which to scrawl a quick record of each step I've taken. Now I have to enter the same information again on a form designed to catch people out.

It'll get worse. The dreary routine of searching, applying, and receiving rejection is bad enough but the pressure to prove that you are doing what you claim will get steadily worse as the most obvious cheats are unmasked and the temptation to find scapegoats increases.

For now I shall have to grin and bear it. Sorry Jesus, but the castle gates are shut, the walls are stout, and I'm not in any danger of starving. Besides, I'm content with my spirtuality. I don't need yours.