Disabled and disenfrachised

Full disclosure here: I’m a type one diabetic, which is currently considered an unseen disability, but I don’t currently receive any monetary support for it. Also, like many people with disabilities, I’ve been anxiously paying attention to the drama in parliament, brought about George Osborne’s proposed budget.

Personal Independence Payments (PIPs) have been a hot topic due to Osborne’s threatened cuts, but the Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) will also drop by £30 a week for new claimants. Both Labour and some Conservative MPs have condemned the cuts, with Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn saying Chancellor George Osborne had “declared war on the disabled” and adding that: “any of us could become disabled at any time. We’re just a car accident away from a major disability. We should think about that.”

Night-time episodes are suggested to contribute to Dead in Bed syndrome (DIB), where a type one diabetic goes to bed perfectly fine and dies in their sleep…

The PIP cuts have ultimately been overturned but Corbyn has hit the nail on the head: for the average person, living with a disability is such a foreign concept. Even my more manageable condition represents a unique set of challenges that surprise my able-bodied friends.

As a diabetic, the rise and fall of my blood sugars levels are affected by various factors, ranging from alcohol to the weather. An untreated drop in my blood sugars (hypoglycaemia) causes drunken behaviour, shaking, sweating, and even aggressiveness or unconsciousness. Hypoglycaemias are even more worrying at night. Night-time episodes are suggested to contribute to Dead in Bed syndrome (DIB), where a type one diabetic goes to bed perfectly fine and dies in their sleep.

A disability can be unavoidably alienating when you’re suddenly unable to do everyday things…

While I don’t suffer from the more severe problems, such as diabetes-related blindness or losing my driving licence from too many night-time hypoglycaemias, a quick Google search brings up a whole list of complications that make the future seem bleak. Oh, and if my mum didn’t have enough to keep her up at night worrying, the condition can also lead to mental health problems and eating disorders. It also doesn’t take a car accident to render you disabled; I woke confused up in hospital on New Year’s Day to find that a simple flu might have sparked my condition. I was just fifteen.

The potential effect of the benefit cuts is frightening, even for the fairly healthy me. A disability can be unavoidably alienating when you’re suddenly unable to do everyday things, or have to put on a brave face despite being in pain, feeling nauseous or fatigued.

The issue isn’t reform but the insensitive zeal for saving money regardless of the cost to countless lives…

While the government has suggested that the cuts to ESA will “incentivise” people to find jobs, I feel this is unbelievably patronising, cruel, and depressing for the vast majority of claimants, who are already struggling to make ends meet or perform everyday tasks.

The backlash against Osborne and Iain Duncan Smith, the Secretary of State for Work and Pensions, who has now resigned, demonstrates that I’m not the only one thinking this. The issue isn’t reform but the insensitive zeal for saving money regardless of the cost to countless lives. Although, I suppose the disabled just aren’t a major factor for Osborne, who clearly thinks it’s major companies who deserve governmental support, hence the corporation tax being dropped to 17% by April 2020. Austerity for all, eh?