Another year. Another face enters our lives. You chose this carer. Your intentions should be clear. A profession meant to support and care.

A social worker touches our lives usually in the wake of a previous mistake.

But, me, I have no choice but to be here but for the love of my child.

And he didn’t choose to be disabled either.

But I and my son are entitled to a life the same as you to be safe and secure.

You promise not to let us down like all the rest.

You promise to listen, you want to be our friend, a shoulder to lean on. You tell my son what an important person you are, to trust you and everything will be fine.

He lacks capacity and cannot speak. Read your notes. Stop assuming you know him because you wear a lanyard.

You promised the world. I’ve heard it all before.

You invade our home, our lives. Leaving a feeling of dehumanisation, questioning our every move, our every decision, our reason for living.

Then you leave, with notepads full of our most intimate details.

Back to your home, back to your life.

We trusted you.

We’re merely numbers now. We’re initials on a file. Our future lies in your hands.

So you start your report, sat at your desk and the attacks to damn us begin.

Gas lighting.

You’re bullying and planting the seeds of doubt into a carer’s heart.

You met us for an hour. That’s all it took for you to decide, what would lie ahead for my son and I.

You plan to degrade and remove my son from your caseload and save the council money.

You didn’t bargain on this mum.

No one is a better expert, than a warrior carer Mum,

22 years’ experience fighting for the most precious thing, my son’s life.

Your words cut to the bone.

I didn’t sleep much for weeks.

I cried into my pillow. The black dog wasn’t far behind.

You question my abilities as mum and carer.

The nights were long and I questioned myself. What had I done wrong?

Why had I not seen all these flaws that you so wisely have written for all to see, after only meeting me for just one hour?

The answer is simple.

The problem doesn’t lie with me.

But with the system and with those that work within.

Your face was a picture when I stood my ground.

When all the professionals told you, you’ve got this wrong.

This mother is an outstanding carer, a great advocate and will never give up fighting for her son.

She has his best interests at heart. It’s not all about the funds.

Did you apologise?

Of course not.

The trauma and paranoia left by your callous actions.

You’re a disgrace to the profession.

Leaving the most vulnerable in crisis instead of providing support.

Why us? All we asked was for you to do your job.

You filled our lives with fear and hate.

Each day we struggled and hoped that you’d be there to support.

But now we would rather avoid you and all the hurt that you have caused.

Instead of enhancing our lives, our future looks all the more dark.