Dusty Wentworth

  Different governments are using different language, but the machinery underneath is becoming remarkably familiar. In Britain, we are told the disability benefits system must become more “affordable”. In America, work requirements are described as “community engagement”. In Australia, tighter control of the National Disability Insurance Scheme is presented as “securing” it for future generations. Different countries. Different slogans. Much the same machinery. Eligibility is narrowed. Assessments become more frequent. Claimants must provide more evidence. Payments are reduced, capped or frozen. Disabled people are divided between a protected minority considered sufficiently severe and everybody else, who must repeatedly prove that their limitations are real. When the same pattern appears across several countries at roughly the same time, dismissing it as coincidence is inadequate. Calling it a single secret global conspiracy would go beyond the evidence. Pretending that these poli...

  There is a contradiction developing around disability. On social media, diagnoses are increasingly displayed as identities. They appear in usernames, biographies, clothing, tattoos and carefully constructed online personas. Some people describe themselves through a medical condition before telling us anything else about who they are. At the same time, those of us living with serious disability repeatedly have to insist that we are more than our diagnoses. We are told not to let disability define us. We are encouraged to work, contribute, remain independent and participate fully in society. Yet the same society places barriers in front of almost every one of those ambitions. That contradiction deserves examination. A diagnosis should explain something, not become everything I understand marking a difficult period of life with a tattoo. I understand wanting something that represents survival, adaptation or personal strength. Illness and disability can divide a life into b...

  When Disability Becomes Content: Who Gets to Tell the Truth? I am not a disability creator. I am a writer who happens to be disabled, lives with chronic illness and pain, and uses a wheelchair. That distinction matters to me. Disability informs much of my writing because it affects almost every area of my life. It influences how I travel, work, spend money, access public spaces and plan even the most ordinary day. But it is not the entirety of who I am, nor do I want everything I produce to be reduced to symptoms, seizures and suffering. My blog allows me to explore the complexity that social media often strips away. It is now read in 47 countries across six continents. My articles have also been published elsewhere, including in The Male Psychology Magazine . That is where I do the heavy lifting. Social media is primarily how I publicise that writing. It also gives me a way to share shorter pieces of honest lived experience, particularly for people trying to understand a new dia...

  When Brain Injury Takes Away Your Emotions People often assume the hardest part of a brain injury is the physical damage. The speech difficulties. The wheelchair. The things other people can see. For me, it’s none of those things. The hardest part is that I no longer experience emotion. I understand emotions intellectually, but I can no longer feel them in the way I once did. For a long time, I thought my greatest challenge was memory loss. Following a ruptured brain aneurysm in April 2024, I lost more than 14 years of my life. When I first woke after surgery, I told my wife, “It’s all right. I’ll just make new memories.” It sounded logical. What I didn’t understand was that memories aren’t simply facts stored inside our heads. They help construct our identity. Our experiences, relationships, successes, failures, joys and losses gradually shape the person we become. Without those memories, and without the emotional threads connecting me to those that remain, waking up felt like b...