Nicola P

My Experience with the Jobcentre and the DWP After My Son’s Suicide

In November 2021, my life changed forever. My 19-year-old son died by suicide after suffering domestic abuse. In the aftermath, I was left traumatised, grieving, and completely unable to work due to severe, complex PTSD.

It was at this most vulnerable time that I had my first experience with a Work Coach at the Jobcentre.

I had to apply for Universal Credit, and during that first appointment, I was open and honest about my circumstances. I disclosed my dyslexia, ADHD, and the fact that I struggle significantly with form-filling, technology, and online systems — especially without support, which I don’t have at home.

I explained that I found the online journal system extremely difficult to use. I asked for reasonable adjustments, like communicating over the phone instead of through the online portal. My request was ignored.

Instead of empathy, I was met with hostility. The Work Coach responded with shocking insensitivity. When I explained that I was struggling mentally because my son had taken his own life, she dismissed me. “You can’t keep throwing that around,” she said, referring to my son’s suicide. This wasn’t just upsetting — it was retraumatising and deeply wrong.

There was no understanding of how trauma and neurodivergence affect someone’s ability to engage with rigid systems like Universal Credit. Despite my formal complaint, nothing changed. The online journal remains the only point of communication, and it’s not designed to be accessible for people with dyslexia, ADHD, or trauma-related conditions.

If a workplace failed to make these kinds of reasonable adjustments, it could be taken to court for disability discrimination. So why is the DWP exempt?

Living in a rural area adds another layer of difficulty. Public transport is virtually non-existent. I rely entirely on other people to take me to appointments. I can’t travel alone — particularly when I’m having suicidal thoughts. Despite this, I’ve been told I must attend the Jobcentre in person or risk losing my only source of income.

There is no flexibility. No safeguarding. No understanding. I fear that as even stricter benefit conditions come in, more disabled people like me will fall through the cracks — punished for not being able to do what the system demands, regardless of how hard we try.

What’s even scarier is that many Work Coaches seem to have no lived experience of trauma or mental ill-health. Some, like the one I encountered, are actively dismissive and harmful. People like me are left feeling powerless. How do you argue with the DWP? You can’t. They are a law unto themselves, with no external oversight or accountability.

I believe there must be an independent body overseeing Work Coach behaviour and DWP decisions — especially when disabled or bereaved claimants are involved. No one should be re-traumatised for simply asking for help. And no one should be forced to choose between their safety and their survival.