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Being a Disabled Student

A True Story

By Kira GreenPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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A young female student in a wheelchair looking at books

To help you fully understand, you're going to need a little bit of background so bare with me. I am 19, I am a student, and I am disabled.

According to the UK Government: 'You’re disabled under the Equality Act 2010 if you have a physical or mental impairment that has a ‘substantial’ and ‘long-term’ negative effect on your ability to do normal daily activities.'

https://www.gov.uk/definition-of-disability-under-equality-act-2010

‘substantial’ is more than minor or trivial, eg it takes much longer than it usually would to complete a daily task like getting dressed .'

'long-term’ means 12 months or more, eg a breathing condition that develops as a result of a lung infection

I have had anxiety since I was 14, I've been depressed since I was 16, I've had PTSD since I was 17 and 6 months. I'm also partially diagnosed with Joint Hypermobility Spectrum Disorder. It takes me nearly an hour to get ready. Sometimes I can't breathe because my ribs make cracking noises. I can't shower properly. I can't shave properly. I have random PTSD flashbacks, panic attacks and 2/7 days a week, I can't leave my bed.

I think I'm pretty well qualified under the Equality Act. So, please, tell me why all the support I'm currently receiving was a brief phone call from the Disabled Students Allowance. They got me a laptop so I can complete my university studies as otherwise I would've been unable to complete my first year. I cannot write for very long, even these online pieces can take me up to two hours to finish, and it hurts me.

It has taken nearly three months for Employment Support Allowance to get round to me. Not to pay me, just to get round to me. Just to remember I existed. They assessed me, laughed at me during my assessment and triggered a panic attack after I couldn't complete a basic task. Then triggered another when she asked me to list my mental health issues and the reasons I had them. I have still not received any further information. I don't know if I'm being allowed the money I need to live or not.

It has taken just over five months for Personal Independence Payments to get round to me. I had to fill in a form, list all the things I could and couldn't do. I had to tell them my entire medical history. For context, somedays I cannot get from my bedroom, down 13 steps, just to lie down on the sofa again. Somedays I could make it into town. Except I've been verbally assaulted twice in town, so that's dependent on my anxiety. On Friday, I will finally get my assessment. On Friday, they will trigger another panic attack, possibly an anxiety attack and I will feel sick for the entire day.

I never thought growing up that any of my chronic pain was to do with an illness. I was convinced this was all in my head. I have memory loss issues, I have chronic fatigue, I can barely wake up in the mornings, yet here I am chasing after different organisations who's job it is supposed to be to keep me alive. I need this money to live. I cannot work. I cannot stand for more than an hour without passing out. Believe me, I tried.

I didn't expect to spend my teenage years filling out the same forms, telling strangers I don't know that I don't function right. That I'm not normal. It is degrading. It's damaging to your mental health. And then, someone I've never met is supposed to judge me. Supposed to decide whether I'm 'disabled enough'. That makes me feel disgusting. My quality of life is resting on someone who might be having a bad day. That's terrifying.

And yet this is the reality for so many disabled people in the U.K.I can't move house because I would have to claim benefits I'm not entitled to because I haven't worked, I have no savings, I'm not married. As far as the government are concerned right no, I have no right to a good quality of life as I provide nothing for the community. I'm not entitled to the support that most people could easily get. Nor am I informed about how to get any of it. When I told my doctors that I was struggling, they all suggested exercise, not one of them suggested applying for ESA or PIP because they know the chances of me getting either are incredibly low.

So wish me luck over the next few weeks because I'm going to need a fucking miracle...

humanity
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