“If I didn't have my disability benefits, I’d be screwed.”

There’s so many costs I have to pay daily because I can’t manage without things. It’s hard to put them into perspective. When you start looking into how much it all costs, it’s a lot.

I rely on electricity for many of the things I need. I've got an electric riser toilet and chair. I have a mobility scooter to charge, and I use a CPAP machine every night. I need this to help me breathe properly and sleep safely. My electricity costs around £200 a month.

I'm not as mobile as I'd like to be, so I use more heating. My home is small and warms up nicely, so I can switch the heating off. I’d like it on more, but I just can't afford it.

I’ve laid in bed at night, trying to sleep, but all these things are going through my mind. Where can I pull that £10 from for a bit of extra electricity? Or £5 just so I'll be warm tomorrow?

“These are essential costs for me.”

When you’re disabled and can't do things for yourself, you don't expect work to be done for nothing.

I pay a window cleaner and a gardener to support with chores. It helps if I don't feel up to the jobs, and I can't do them myself.

I have a Motability car, which I normally use daily when I can drive. I’ve recently spent £80 a week on petrol to get me to my hospital appointments.

These are essential costs for me.

“The money’s never really been enough.”

Right now, the money I get from my disability benefits does help. It's not excessive amounts, or money where you get luxuries. It all goes towards the costs of caring for myself, or running my vital medical equipment.

It’s what I call ‘liveable’, but it isn’t enough considering rising costs. The money’s never really been enough.

For example, I'm diabetic, so I have to keep my sugar levels under control. I tend to eat potatoes, rice, and pasta because they're cheaper and filling.

They're not ideal choices for controlling my diabetes, but it’s better than eating nothing. I’d love to have better options.

“It’s not a lifestyle choice.”

I used to work full time as a bookbinder. I worked hard, walking to and from work each day. I’d often head out for some exercise with my dad in the evenings.

But your life changes once you have a health condition. It's not always overnight. It can creep up on you, like mine did. Over time, you find you can do less and less.

I’d give my right arm to be able to go back to my life and my job. It's not a lifestyle choice to live on benefits, and I hate it. But what other choice do I have?

“I don’t think I could cope.”

If I didn't have my benefits, I’d be screwed.

I wouldn't be able to pay for the things that support me, like my equipment. My extra chores wouldn’t get done because I couldn’t afford the help.

The cost of cutting my benefits would be awful for me. If I didn't have that money, I don't know what I’d do. I don't think I could cope with that emotionally.

“Those of us most in need would suffer.”

When the Government talks about cutting disability benefits, I feel apprehensive and angry.

I don’t know where these decisions will go. It’s those of us who are most in need that would suffer. I’m sure there are many other ways to save money.

I understand the need for reform. But the Government should look at other avenues before cutting people's support. Many people struggle with their health day-to-day. None of us deserve to be penalised.

This story is part of the cost of cuts campaign. Cuts to disability benefits would be catastrophic. Join us and show the Government we will not tolerate further cuts. Add your name to show your support.