Julissa
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
‘At my age, at this age now, like, I don’t know what’s going to be there for my future. Like, who’s going to look after me when I can’t look after myself anymore?’
When Julissa was in her teens, she crashed her car. She’s since had surgery on her hip five times. Julissa is now in her 50s and lives with an acquired brain injury (ABI), chronic pain and post-traumatic stress disorder.
‘I hit a pothole. The last thing I honestly remember was something black going past my window,’ Julissa told the Royal Commission. ‘So my injuries sustained at that point in time where I had laid in petrol – that ate the skin off the back of my legs. I had a compound fracture to my left hip. I had a shattered pelvis, lacerations and I was cursing at everybody when I went to hospital.’
Julissa said doctors at the time didn’t diagnose the ABI.
‘If someone has a traumatic brain injury they quite often are extremely vocal when they get to hospital … I remember the doctors getting a nurse to come and put ice into my mouth to make me be quiet.’
Julissa said that later doctors put her on ‘all these medications’ after misdiagnosing her symptoms for bipolar disorder.
‘I have an ABI. Sorry, I’ve gone blank … acquired brain injury,’ Julissa said as she described her symptoms. ‘So I say sometimes it’s like a computer processing problem. It’s like, you know, if you put too much stuff into the computer it gets a little bit muddled up and it freezes.’
Julissa said the relevant government agency tried to minimise the amount of compensation she could claim.
‘In my court case, there were things that were brought up from my past that had nothing to do with the car accident at all. So it was very messy. I’ve got the court transcripts. I still haven’t finished reading them because it’s just, I just can’t believe the bullshit. I’m sorry. I can’t think of another word to use.’
A tribunal decided her disability was more significant than the government agency claimed. Julissa said the agency now pays her a fortnightly amount that ‘isn’t really all that much better than being on, say, Centrelink’.
‘At least with Centrelink … I’d have a concession card and I could also earn as much money as what I earn now, if not a little bit more, and be better off without it coming out of my pay.’
Julissa said that if she earns extra money now, the agency reduces her payment by the same amount.
‘And I still have to fight really hard for [the agency] to get things done.’
After her latest hip replacement, Julissa struggled to get the support her surgeon said she needed to recover.
Julissa instead relied on a neighbour.
‘She brought me dinner every night. She helped me shower. She changed my sheets. She did everything for me when I got home from hospital.’
Julissa said she applied to the NDIA for support, but it rejected her ‘basically because I’m not on Centrelink and because [the agency] is supposed to pay for most of those services’.
‘[The agency has] made me feel so many times that my life isn’t worth it and that, you know, there is no point to going on because life shouldn’t be this hard. And it shouldn’t be this difficult to be supported.’
Julissa said when her physiotherapist was injured recently and couldn’t visit, she applied for her driving licence.
‘I’ve had to go and get a whole lot of medical stuff done to make sure I was safe enough to drive again. And also sit for my learners. Which I have done. I have completed all of it … You know, I’m kind of really proud of myself for that at the moment.’
Julissa said she would prefer the agency pay her out with a lump sum so she could regain control over her life.
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.