Kennedy
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.
‘Before NDIS … I was effectively left in the situation where the person who was being paid as my carer was taking drugs and … had absolute control of my finances, control of everything.’
Kennedy is blind, has anxiety, depression and lives with chronic pain. For 25 years she lived with a man who was violent. She relied on him for food, medication and some personal care. Without him, she believed, she ‘would be unable to survive’.
When the NDIS was introduced Kennedy received some limited support based on having a live-in carer. For the first time she felt she could ‘get the support she needed to live’ and end the relationship. But that hasn’t happened. ‘I have gotten rid of him and now I’m battling,’ she told the Royal Commission.
Kennedy asked the NDIA to review her plan based on her change of circumstances.
‘I was basically going to be left in a situation where I was looking at running out of funds and no longer having a live-in carer. I was in a situation where I can’t even leave the house on my own let alone get … my shopping … anything that I need to live.’
She said the NDIA told her, ‘There’s a lot of people waiting. Get in line.’ Until she was ‘down to $500 in funding’ they ‘don’t consider that to be an emergency’.
After several months of ‘stress upon stress … and uncertainty’, Kennedy contacted her local member of parliament. A few days later, an NDIA staff member phoned her – Kennedy assumed to schedule a review meeting. But the woman wanted to review the plan immediately over the phone.
Kennedy wasn’t prepared but said the woman ‘was very understanding’. The woman agreed to include additional support worker hours and other items. Kennedy was ‘so relieved’ and ‘felt she could breathe again.’ However, two days later the woman rang and told Kennedy she could have half of what they’d discussed. Kennedy said this wasn’t enough for her ‘day-to-day survival, let alone accomplishing any goals’.
One of the items the NDIS wouldn’t fund was a small wearable camera device. Kennedy explained it attaches to her sunglasses, is a portable screen reader and has facial recognition software. ‘One of the things that is really scary when you’re blind … is having people coming into a room and you don’t know who it is.’ She believes, this device would make her feel safer and allow her to work again. An occupational therapist recommended the device, but the NDIA argued this wasn’t enough evidence. They asked Kennedy to supply an assistive technology assessment. Kennedy said this assessment costs thousands of dollars, ‘nearly as much as the device’.
The NDIA told Kennedy support worker hours could be reduced because medication can be delivered. She said this isn’t correct. ‘You cannot send a driver to a blind person to give them morphine.’
Kennedy found the ‘lack of empathy or understanding was really terrifying’. She said, ‘There’s just this assumption – well you’re blind, you need this much.’
Kennedy is in the process of appealing the NDIA decision.
‘It’s just another battle again and wasting more money on more assessments again … asking for more evidence … I’m tired.’
Kennedy is also battling the state government housing authority. Her ex-partner had kicked in the front door. She asked the housing authority to fix the door and change the locks. She also asked for modifications to enable her to live there without 24/7 support. The authority agreed but the work has stalled. ‘They say they’ll escalate it, and nothing happens … I had to ring and make a complaint about the complaints officer.’
Kennedy has a history of ‘self-harming really dangerously’. She is ‘worried every day whether [she] can survive’. She said the uncertainty and the thought of being isolated in her home has ‘led [her] to self-harm again’.
‘What do I do? Do I ring my abuser back up and say come back?’
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.