CCJs and the comeback kid

So, here I am, celebrating a small but significant victory in my ongoing saga of recovery, court drama, and the occasional existential crisis.

That’s right, folks, I’ve managed to evict not one, but TWO, County Court Judgments (CCJs) from my credit report. They were squatting there like unwanted relatives at Christmas. Uninvited, noisy, and definitely not helping my finances.

The illness that wasn’t your average cold

Let’s rewind a bit. Picture this: I’m in the depths of my addiction. It’s like I signed up for the “Extreme Sport” version of life, where instead of bungee jumping or skydiving, I was plummeting into the dark abyss of substance abuse

During this lovely period, I missed a few pretty crucial letters about court cases, because, you know, who has time for paperwork when you’re busy wrestling with your inner chaos?

I ended up with not one but two CCJs for court cases I didn’t even know existed. It’s like getting hit by a bus while blindfolded. But hey, who needs a functional life when you can have a thriving addiction and surprise court dates?

The N244 Forms

Armed with nothing but my wits and an endless supply of regret, I decided to fight back against the CCJs with the noble N244 forms, the magical paperwork that promised to set everything right.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t. I filled these bad boys out five times. That’s right, five! At this point, I could have opened a N244 form factory, cranking out applications like an assembly line

Every time I sent one in, I felt like a contestant on a game show where the prize was the ability to not be financially ruined. I’d sit there for months, waiting for a response, only to be met with the deafening silence of the universe, punctuated by my emails bouncing back like rubber balls

The Phone Calls

Ah, the phone calls. If you’ve ever tried to contact a court, you know it’s to trying to summon a genie from a bottle. Hours spent on hold, listening shit elevator music, and just when you think you’re about to speak to someone, bam. You’re disconnected. It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on me, testing my sanity while I was already balancing on the edge of a tightrope.

And then I learned I had ADHD. Fantastic! It was like discovering I’d been playing Monopoly but using the rules from Uno. Suddenly, everything made sense, the disorganization, the missed appointments, the CCJs. I was like a cat chasing laser pointers, lots of effort, zero focus, and occasionally crashing into walls.

A Toast to Resilience

But here’s where the story takes a turn for the better people. After what felt like a lifetime of battling paperwork and court systems, I finally got the glorious news: both CCJs are coming off my record! Cue the confetti and trumpets! It felt like winning the lottery but without the money or the annoying mates trying to borrow some.

This victory wasn’t just about cleaning up my credit report, it was a testament to my resilience. It showed me that no matter how many times life tries to knock you down, you can always get back up (preferably with a dark sense of humor and a knack for sarcasm)

Why You Should Fight for Your Rights (and Laugh While Doing It)

So to anyone out there fighting your own battles, whether they’re with CCJs, addiction, or just the ridiculousness of life: Fight like your fucking credit score depends on it, because it probably does. Don’t let the system beat you down. If I can go from drowning in paperwork to waving goodbye to my CCJs, so can you

And remember, it’s okay to laugh through the chaos. Dark humor is a fantastic coping mechanism, you’ll not only survive but thrive. Life’s an absolute mess, and if you’re not laughing at it, you’re doing it wrong.

Cheers to fighting the good fight and reclaiming your narrative. Now I can finally stop getting rejected by landlords for apartments. whey!