Yesterday, I was under the impression that I had finished the paperwork for our aliyah. My husband and I have scanned and uploaded countless forms, sent them an Apostille-stamped marriage certificate, located the graves of dead Jewish ancestors, proved our British citizenship and proved that we don’t already live in Israel — which begs the question, why would we be applying for aliyah if we already lived there?
Today, I rang the Jewish Agency to find out when I will have my appointment, and they sent me an email listing seven more pieces of paperwork that I must supply, including a death certificate for my first husband. I also have to pay for it to have an Apostille stamp, in case I take it into my head to try and forge the certificate; maybe they think I’m just pretending he is dead? Now, you might expect that the Apostille stamped marriage certificate I already sent them would suffice, given that the UK does not allow bigamy, but NO, this is not sufficient for the Jewish Agency. Do they think I keep a mad first husband locked in the attic already?
I stated on the health questionnaire that I suffer from depression, and am taking an anti-depressant, which is common enough, especially for Jews driven to make aliyah by the PERSECUTIONS of the PESTILENTIAL Diaspora, but no, the persecutions of the Diaspora are clearly inadequate for the Jewish Agency, who have decided to throw more fuel on the fire by demanding yet more pointless persecutory paperwork. My doctor — who is massively overstretched already — must provide them with a letter answering a list of questions about my health, including telling them about any suicide attempts. WHAT??? Who said anything about suicide?!!!
If I DO decide to attempt suicide, it will be entirely due to the merciless ministrations of the Jewish Agency (may they grow like onions, with their heads in the ground). Do they really think that suicidal bigamist Gentiles are trying to smuggle themselves illegally into Israel? Because why? Because it’s so easy to live there? What with the stabbings and fires and rockets and bat-sh*t crazy drivers? Oy, gevalt.
I swear, you could die from this process.