Al

Al is in his 40s and has borderline personality disorder and dissociative identity disorder. He lives with osteoarthritis, post-traumatic stress disorder and an autoimmune disorder. He uses a wheelchair.

‘I’m a law graduate. I’m one of those spectrum disabled people who speaks up,’ Al told the Royal Commission. ‘I’m not the quiet type.’

Al left home when he was still in school, in the 1990s.

‘I was homeless and, eventually, I meet the missionaries. Like, they come across as really friendly, really approachable, sincere. Well, to my big shock … things went pear-shaped when I ran into a guy named [Dave].’

Dave was a church leader visiting from America.

‘When you are called as a leader, they believe they are called by God and they can never do anything wrong.’

Al said he felt unsafe around Dave, who told dirty jokes. One night, Dave raped him.

‘I missed church for about a month and my friends were wondering where I went.’

Al asked one of his friends why he hadn’t warned him about Dave’s known predatory behaviour.

‘I said to him, “I’m a disabled person and I was disabled when you first met me.” … He basically said, “Oh, God commands you to forgive.” Basically, I was told that I have to forgive his mistake and his sin because I’m not perfect either.’

Al told the bishop.

‘The bishop was good friends with [Dave]. He said that I was flirtatious. I was at fault. Like maybe I should start wearing appropriate clothing [and] stop flashing my skin in front of him … So, they didn’t deny it, but they just victim-blamed.’

Dave returned to America. The bishop told Al to undergo electroconvulsive shock therapy.

‘The bishop basically thought I was a homosexual … He said, “It will also cure your other ailments as well, your other disabilities.”’

Al left the church.

Years later when Al applied for NDIS support, his NDIS planner asked him about the rape.

‘She was given all the information by my clinical psychologist of 20 years and my doctor … She joked, “How big was his penis?” … Asking questions like, “How many times were you sodomised?” And [it’s] those kind of questions that pushed me over the edge.’

Although Al was facing homelessness at the time, he said the planner ignored multiple doctors’ reports and withheld his application for accommodation for nine months.

‘Basically, “You’re a big boy, you can handle it.” I needed special disability accommodation because I’ve got osteoarthritis, osteoporosis. I’ve got Hashimoto. I’m a cancer survivor.’

Al said the NDIS only supports his borderline personality disorder. He recently struggled to find a suitable apartment and in desperation rented one on a second floor.

‘It doesn’t have a lift. It does not even have much space to accommodate my wheelchair … I actually have to crawl up the stairs, like every time I come home.’

Al can’t access the shower. He uses his Disability Support Pension to pay someone to wash him. His NDIS planner told him to complain to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal (AAT) if he had a problem.

‘It’s like every time now they intentionally cut your funding, reject you for everything, they will basically say, “Just take it to the AAT.”’

Al said the last time he appealed a decision, the AAT attacked him, his support worker and his clinical psychologist.

‘The NDIS was meant to be designed to help the vulnerable people, but it seems to be more of the strongest survive and basically disabled people are then left in the lurch.’