I have spent weeks trying to find the words for this post. Asking for help doesn’t come easily — I feel embarrassed and vulnerable — but I have reached a point where I have no other option.

For many years I’ve been caring for my four daughters, fighting every single day to get them the education and support they deserve. Many of you know parts of our story — the endless battles with Surrey County Council, Social Services, Education, and Mental Health departments. We’ve faced accusations, delays, and unimaginable stress and trauma, all while trying to keep our children safe and alive. At one point, we almost lost Ella.

I’ve provided 24/7 round-the-clock care for years, years surviving on only two hours’ sleep a night. The emotional toll, the constant paperwork, and the financial strain (over £350,000 spent trying to secure education and therapy) have left me physically broken and health conditions severely affected.

On April 23, after years of relentless fighting, I hit rock bottom. I took an overdose. I walked into hospital that day — and I have never walked independently since. The trauma of these last seven years has triggered a condition called Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), where my brain no longer sends the right signals to my body. I now have severe mobility issues, unpredictable spasms, seizures, and weakness that have left me limited use of my arms / hands. My speech is affected and problems with memory.

We’ve been refused funding to adapt our home, two of my children remain without any education — something we are still privately funding ourselves, because Surrey continue to refuse educate. Every battle I fight for them worsens my own conditions.

What I need now — desperately — is a specialised wheelchair. It would give me back some independence: the chance to go out with my family, walk my dogs, sit somewhere other than my bed, reduce pain and a damage I’m doing to my hip and spine in current chair and maybe feel like “me” again. The cost of this chair is over £15,000, and we simply cannot afford it.

This is my last resort. I am asking for help so I can regain even the smallest bit of freedom and dignity.

If you are able to donate, no matter how small, you would be giving me the chance to be part of family life again — to share in days out, to be present for my girls in a way I’ve been robbed of for so long. To be mum again. To be Becky.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for standing with us through everything we’ve faced