Posted on July 18, 2025

My life changed irrevocably on 14th May 2025. That’s the day I published my first blog post—not about a new hobby, but born from a place of profound personal reckoning.

After a subarachnoid haemorrhage left me disabled, and a subsequent diagnosis of Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), doctors told me a stark truth: I wouldn't work again.

"Can't" isn't a word that sits comfortably in my vocabulary. As a former soldier, it's been drilled out of me. New challenges, yes. Difficulties, absolutely. But "can't"? My experience has always been that with the right support, most obstacles can be overcome.

And so, my blog became my therapy—my quest to rediscover myself, to see what I could still do.

Just over two months later, on 18th July 2025, I've poured myself into this space, sharing my journey, thoughts, struggles, and small victories. Crucially, I've done it without spending a single penny on promotion, relying solely on organic sharing via Facebook and X (formerly Twitter).

For a brand-new blog, the results have been unexpectedly encouraging:

• Posts Published: 36
• All Time Views: 1,377
• This Month's Views (July, to date): 591
• Last Month's Views (June): 455
• Today's Views (as of 04:12 BST): 11
• Yesterday's Views: 52
• Comments: 1
• Followers: 0 (which is less important than the actual readers!)

To have accumulated nearly 1,400 views in such a short time, purely through organic sharing, felt like a genuine achievement. The month-on-month growth—with July already surpassing June’s total by the 18th—suggested that my words were resonating.

Even getting 11 views before 4:15 AM BST today indicated a consistent trickle of engagement, perhaps from early risers or those in different time zones. It felt like I was building something, making a connection, creating value.

And then, a thought began to take root:
Could this, in time, become a small income? Not a fortune, not a replacement for a career, but a small supplement. Something that could affirm my productivity—my ability to contribute—even in a small way.

I explored options like placing ads (passive income based on views) or a 'Buy Me a Coffee' button (direct reader support). These require minimal ongoing effort once set up—crucial when managing the unpredictable nature of FND.

But then reality, in the form of the welfare system, hit like a cold wave.

The Ridiculous Contradiction: A System Stacked Against Us

Under the UK welfare system, I am legally obliged to declare any income I receive. And this is precisely where the "can't" reappears with a vengeance—not from my doctors this time, but from the very system ostensibly designed to support me.

Doctors say I can't work. My physical and neurological conditions make traditional employment impossible.

The welfare system, if I were to earn even a tiny amount from my blog, could cut my disability benefits. These benefits are essential—they cover basic living costs, contribute to housing, and help maintain the fragile stability of my life. The administrative burden of reporting, the fear of clawbacks, and the sheer stress of navigating complex rules for a few pounds are a risk too great.

And yet, the government simultaneously argues that disabled people should work and do more. They talk about cutting benefits because disabled people need to be more active and less reliant.

Am I missing something here? Or is this utterly, profoundly ridiculous?

The support that could enable me to do more—financial aid for adaptive tools, tailored vocational guidance, accessible transport, or simply a benefits system that genuinely encourages small, supplemental income without penalising it—is often non-existent or inadequate.

Instead, the focus remains on what we can't do, and when we find a way to do something, we're met with barriers rather than encouragement.

Systemic Failure, Not Just Personal Frustration

This frustration is compounded when one considers the wider landscape for disabled people in the UK.

According to the latest available data from the Office for National Statistics (ONS), there are 16 million disabled people in the UK, representing nearly a quarter of the population.

Despite this significant number, the narrative often remains one of deficit rather than potential.

Even for those disabled individuals who can and do work, a stark injustice persists: the disability pay gap. ONS figures from 2023 reveal that disabled employees earned, on average, 14.6% less per hour than non-disabled employees. That equates to £1.88 less per hour.

Furthermore, the employment rate for disabled people in the UK (53.6% in 2023) still lags significantly behind that of non-disabled people (82.7%), showing a 29.1 percentage point gap.

So, we have a government calling for disabled people to work more, implying a lack of contribution—while the benefits system penalises even passive, minimal earnings—and the broader employment market undervalues disabled workers.

It's a lose-lose situation.
A systemic failure rooted in a punitive and misguided approach to disability.

My Blog: A Stand Against Injustice

This isn't just a personal grievance; it's a systemic failure. It’s a system that, far from empowering disabled individuals to find purpose and contribute, actively stifles their initiative, traps them in dependency, and punishes self-reliance.

So, for now, my blog remains a deeply personal project—a testament to what can be done, a therapeutic outlet, and a place to connect.

Its value is immense to me, far beyond any monetary figure.

But the frustration remains—a quiet, simmering anger that in a country that champions opportunity, disabled people are often forced to choose between the basics of survival and the pursuit of even the smallest form of self-made purpose and independence.

This isn't just my story.
It's a widespread injustice affecting millions in the UK.