Access to Work: A System That’s Neither Accessible Nor Working.

The Access to Work scheme is not fit for purpose in its current state.

If you are reading this, then you’ve probably heard of it – count yourself (sort of) lucky! I had never heard of Access to Work when I first became disabled. At no point did the Jobcentre or the Department for Work and Pensions mention it to me:

• Not when I first went onto ESA
• Not at any point during my PIP application process
• Not at any time since I opened my existing Universal Credit claim in March 2022

This is despite the fact that I reported both my difficulties and desperate desire to stay working, at first in my chosen career and later working at all.

I should never have had to find this scheme by ‘happy accident’.

Pushed Out of Work, Not Supported to Stay

Before becoming physically disabled by chronic illness, I worked full-time in TV production—a demanding but lucrative, rewarding and exciting career. I cannot say emphatically enough how much I would rather still be doing this than languishing on benefits that do not cover my essentials to live. My heart broke the day I got offered a job role on the (at the time unnamed) Game of Thrones prequel and I had to turn it down because I knew I was not well enough to take it.

The friend I recommended in my stead now earns £12k a month when on a contract. They still credit my recommendation as the turning point in their career – as they would not have made this connection themselves. I had only made it myself by being in the right place at the right time – and also being incredibly charming and backing it up with efficacy. I am happy for them, but I often wonder where I could be now.

However, it wasn’t just my physical health problems getting in the way: they also brought to the surface the barriers to work caused by late diagnosed Autism and ADHD. As my physical mobility deteriorated, I found it increasingly difficult to mask my neurodivergence in the workplace. That masking had been essential to maintaining my role—but it came at a high cost. When I could no longer sustain it, I needed support and reasonable adjustments.

At this time I didn’t know how to access either.

Without that support, I was effectively pushed out of my career.

It was only later—when I was recruited to train as an Access Coordinator due to my vocal online activism and networking—that I even learned Access to Work existed. Ironically, I had to enter a role advocating for others’ access needs before I was told about my own rights.

Had any government department informed me earlier, I may never have been forced out of my previous job.

I’ve got work FOMO

I want to work. I love the work I do, and I’m so good at it when I’m well (and so modest). I went from a runner to a second assistant director in two years – a meteoritic rise (so humble). I not only worked full time, but also self-produced projects that have been nominated for Royal Television Society Awards several years running.

At the rates for the work I do – I would only need to work seven days a month to come off Universal Credit entirely. That would be life-changing—not just financially, but for my mental health. My experience with Universal Credit has been, at times, brutal and deeply undignified.

But without the support I’ve applied for through Access to Work, working consistently simply isn’t possible without making myself unwell. And I know this is true, because I let ableist narratives push me to keep trying anyway. I tried changing roles and fields, tried WFH, tried part time, tried retraining – I tried and it made me sicker.

I caused mental burnout and worsening of my physical conditions (that I’m still doing rehabilitation for) all because I didn’t want to face losing my high achiever identity.

Is there an ‘Access to Access to Work’?

The application process itself is, frankly, inaccessible.

I would not consider myself to (always) have high support needs, yet even on my best days I could not complete the application by myself. The administrative burden alone is overwhelming, particularly for someone with executive functioning difficulties and severe memory issues. Not to mention the way in which it resembles the punishing PIP and UC work capability assessments which Access to Work applicants have often already been through – can be traumatising.

The great irony being that not just myself, but many neurodivergent people need the support we applied for in order to even complete the application for that very support.

I actively sought help from Access to Work themselves, Citizens Advice and others of that ilk. But alas I found nothing that was at all helpful available for free.

In the end, I had to pay for support. I was only able to do so because I successfully applied to the TripleC / ScreenSkills Access Funding Scheme.

Through that, I received support from Admin & More, which was invaluable.

But I should not have had to pay to access a government support scheme designed for disabled people.

I call it Access to Wait

My application was submitted in September 2024.

I am still waiting.

Eighteen months later, my application has not been assessed.

The only reason I’ve been able to keep track of it at all is because the support package I paid for included post-application help. Without that, I would have struggled immensely to chase updates.

In February 2026, I was informed that Access to Work was only processing applications from July 2024.

This system is in crisis.

There’s no ‘I’ in Access to Work but there is Inconsistency and Inequality

Recently, I spoke to my barber, who is also waiting on an Access to Work application. She has already had to reduce her hours significantly and risks losing her business due to declining health.

She had been told there was a three-month delay for self-employed applications. It was a very unpleasant burden to disabuse her of that notion.

She was shocked to learn the reality of how long I had been waiting.

I was equally shocked to learn that she had been offered mental health support through a scheme called Maximus while she waits. Yet again, something I was never offered or even informed about, despite my own mental health needs forming part of my application.

The inconsistency is alarming.

The Cost of Delay

When I applied, I had such high hopes. Despite barriers to application and the many delays, disappointments and distress I’d experienced from trying to get welfare and adult social care in this country, I believed I had finally found a pathway to a more stable and sustainable future. I was excited to experience a life less bleak.

Eighteen months later, that hope is dashed.

I am more reliant on benefits and council care than ever. I have had to turn down or step back from multiple job opportunities because I cannot afford the support I need to do them safely.

I am so frustrated, I know exactly what I’m capable of when I do have that support because I’ve experienced it during short periods funded by grants. It’s maddening knowing full well that I’m costing the ‘welfare budget’ much more than I need to be.

The delays have also forced me to pay out of pocket for essential equipment to secure one highly paid, very short term contract that I weighed the benefits versus cost of taking. A non-disabled person would not have had to make that decision. That equipment was included in my Access to Work application but I will not be reimbursed.

Make it Make Sense

This situation is not just frustrating—it is tragic.

I know, from the network of other DDND workers I’ve found community in, just how many people have been rejected or had their budgets slashed in the last six months. I also fear that I won’t be able to rebuild my work back to the eligible earning threshold that I was in before because this absurdly excessive delay has made it impossible for me to be reliable for my client base.

The government frequently performs lip service to getting disabled people “back into work” whilst letting the mainstream media do the dirty work of demonising us and infecting public opinion to both shame us and scapegoat us when it comes to making cuts. But schemes like Access to Work, which could genuinely make that possible, are under-resourced, delayed, and inaccessible.

Instead of enabling disabled people to work, the current system seems to actively undermine its own purpose.

I am not asking for special treatment. I am asking for the support that supposedly already exists on paper, and in the Labour Party’s rhetoric, to be delivered in reality.

Until that happens, Access to Work is not a pathway into employment.

It is a barrier.