The day was 26th September 1974; after three months of being on welfare, I was determined to get off the umbilical cord of the benefits system, which kept me suspended in no-mans land.
My life had consisted of laying in bed, hiding from reality as I felt like I was a scrounger, scum of the earth, useless; I hated myself.
But that day was different; with the help of the welfare system, I was going to start a business.
As I explained with excitement, I wanted to start a window cleaning business. I was afraid I wouldn’t earn enough, so if there was a way they could top up my earnings to the amount I was getting on welfare, then with their help, I thought I could eventually look after myself.
The rejection of helping me hurt but not as much as when they said no to my second request for £2 more to feed my family, saying if I wanted £2 more, I would have to have another child, then I would qualify.
I was sad because the system lets people slip through the cracks and, simultaneously, angry that logic didn’t have a place and still hasn’t 50 years on.
With rage and contempt for the red tape and bureaucracy of a system designed to control and manipulate the poorest of society, I told them what they could do with their social system.
Little did I realise it, but this was the best day of my life as I burned my bridges starting that business with 37p buying a bit of scrim/cloth, and I was right; I made less that first week than they would have given me staying on welfare.
What I got in exchange was, for the first time in my life, I was the happiest boy in the world and proud of myself.
When you are at your lowest point in life,