Life or Death Choices When Walking the Poverty Line

Today’s post is the first of a series of articles curated by the Australian Unemployed Workers Union shining a spotlight on people’s experiences of the welfare system. In the wake of yet another Federal Budget that punishes and starves welfare recipients, a woman living on the Disability Support Pension details the “tightrope of poverty” that she fears will result in her death. This brave and important piece is by Emma Morris, a passionate advocate for disability, LGBTQIA+, and neurodiverse rights as a proud member of each of these communities.

I do not remember my childhood. My memories begin roughly around the age of twelve. There are some autobiographical details that I know from before that age, but they are not true memories, they come from the memories of others. One thing I do remember though, is that growing up my biggest fear was that I would one day be homeless. These days a bigger fear is emerging – a fear that walking on the tightrope of poverty will result in my death.

I don’t remember my childhood due to multiple disabling mental illnesses; fortunately, I am what is sometimes referred to as “dynamically disabled” – which essentially means that there are days when I can function and there are days when I cannot. Unfortunately, though, these disabilities make it nigh on impossible for me to work a regular job. I’m ADHD Autistic, struggle interacting with people, and have significant difficulty keeping my attention on one task. That’s in addition to a few mental illnesses and a physical condition that keeps me in chronic pain. I work casually as a tutor and a babysitter, neither position has been stable for almost exactly two years now.

Yet, I am still one of the lucky ones, because I am disabled enough to be on the Disability Support Pension (DSP). I have enough good days that I was able to have the strength and resilience needed to go through the process of getting on the DSP.

In 2020, the government made changes to the JobSeeker Payment, which helped many people finally get above the Henderson poverty line. I do not begrudge any of those who benefited from the increased JobSeeker payments. Sadly, though, those of us on the pension, received no such bump to our income. I was out of work from March 18, 2020 for what I thought would be only two weeks. Those two weeks turned into months, and has now turned into two years.

In my teens I worked in supermarkets, then in my 20s I worked in call centres; however due to my physical condition I can no longer do these jobs. How does one handle life without a job, when they want to work, but are physically incapable of the work they used to undertake? How does one survive in a pandemic? With extreme difficulty, and a lot of judgment from strangers on the internet. I was recently shamed for having my PayPal link pinned on my twitter profile, and was told I should have studied economics instead of psychology, so that I wouldn’t have to “beg online”. I’m currently a student, so even if I were studying economics…I wouldn’t exactly be any better off.

Let me go through the numbers with you - the reason why I put my PayPal out there for the world to see. I get roughly $1000 each fortnight from my DSP, and a bit under half of that goes towards rent (for numerous reasons, this is a necessary expense). I have my utilities set up to be taken directly through Centrepay – that’s another $100 each fortnight. My gold-level health insurance (which is vital due to my disabilities) is $117 per fortnight, and let’s conservatively say the 13 different prescriptions I take over the course of a week cost about $100 per month. So, at this point that leaves me at $233 left for the fortnight. My car insurance has just gone up to roughly $33 each fortnight, so let’s call it $200 for food, petrol, medical appointments, and anything else I need. Remembering, that this does not account for annual expenses like car registration. Last month, my Centrelink payments increased by $22.30, which means I can now sometimes splurge and buy cheese…

So, I raise the question again: how do I survive? Thankfully, I can work a little bit now, so I get about $100 more each week than when I was unable to work – although this week I’ve been in COVID quarantine and things have been tight. I also live in one of the best communities around: we have a thriving Buy Nothing group where we share our excesses and ask for what we need. One of the things I discovered a passion for recently was making jam and giving it away in the Buy Nothing group. I’ve built up quite a fan base, and members of the community frequently donate ingredients so that I can keep jamming. In our community we also have multiple Community Cupboards and Food Is Free pantries – these are set up with the idea of reducing food wastage by placing your excess food in the pantry, so that someone who will make use of it can have it. Every week I get fresh or day-old bread from Food Is Free, and frequently I donate my jams. If it weren’t for these initiatives, I very well could have starved during the last two years.

I have to see a new psychiatrist in the immediate future, and these initial appointments can be upwards of $500, with about $400 being rebated by Medicare. I honestly do not know how I will manage this, but it is completely necessary, because if I don’t do it, I might die. And that’s the reality so many of us face, on Centrelink or not - if we’re living in poverty, our choices very literally can mean the difference between life and death.

Bio: Emma Morris is a 32-year-old writer from Melbourne, who is self-publishing her first novel in October this year. Emma is a passionate advocate for disability, LGBTQIA+, and neurodiverse rights, as a proud member of each of these communities. Emma has studied psychology extensively, and is currently working on a qualification in Art Therapy. In her spare/healthy time she creates crocheted and woven art pieces. She also has three cats, who she loves more than anything.

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