I Couldn't Care Less: Bottom of the Barrel

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A hypodermic needle and a vial

The Bottom of the Barrel

There's nothing quite like filling in a form. This week I spent an evening after work applying for the tax break I may be entitled to as a low earner. It's not actually a very hard form but I got to the bit about disability and I found they'd changed the rules. Specifically, the powers that be have changed the qualifying criteria so that the disability element R and I used to get is not something we qualify for anymore. Sadly, this is not the first time I've come across a change like this.


About six months ago R and I were coming to the end of an 18=month fight to increase her disability allowance. At one point in my life I was pretty familiar with the wording of the criteria for awarding DLA, so I couldn't fail to notice that the rules had changed by this stage. A rate that once R's deterioration would have merited was suddenly out of reach. In practise, of course, what both of these changes meant was less money.


These benefits were designed to fill a specific purpose, not just to prop up the purse, but in reality that is precisely what they are doing. The truth is that a couple really needs two incomes these days, especially if they have aspirations like owning their own house or saving for their retirement. Many carers looking after their partners can't expect their coffers to be bolstered by a second wage. so consequently every penny of every available benefit goes on paying bills.


Until about two minutes ago I was basically just pouring all this on to the page without any real notion of where this was going with it. At the same time I was scrolling through local bed shops online, because we badly need a new mattress. We were thinking of applying for a carers' grant to buy it with, because even now I'm working full time I'm still not raking in enough to afford luxuries like a decent mattress, especially if we want something suitably orthopaedic for R. But the truth is that I feel anxious about that application. I feel, at least a little ashamed and scroungey and even a bit deceitful. Not that I am, you understand, but because benefits nationwide have not just been cut but pilloried. I feel ashamed of asking for the money I am entitled to in order that I can buy a thing that I need, because even though I am in full time working I'm still not earning what anyone really considers to be a enough to live on. I can understand the cuts, even though I find it hard to accept them. But the persistent painting of people in need of financial support as villains rather than victims is deeply demoralising and almost certainly causes some to avoid claiming what they need for fear of the shame and anxiety. For all that, there is absolutely no excuse.

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