Panic and Despair (All Hail the God of Anxieties and Phobia!)

Job centre went okay. Hot day. Endless sun. Feverish summer echoes. Walked to town afterwards to hand in the documents at the housing benefit office. Turns out that my contract is an 'old' contract. What they want is a letter from the landlord saying how much rent I pay, when it is due, if I am in arrears etc. As I would rather shoot myself in the head than ask my landlord for this (all hail the God of Anxieties and Phobia!) I am not getting housing benefit. For the first time since leaving my job, a real sense of panic and despair is beginning to coil. I really think I might have fucked things up leaving that job that was slowly killing me.