Another Two and a Half Weeks in the Life of Benny

Well, it’s been two and a half weeks since my last blog, and honestly — it’s been another full-on few weeks.

It all kicked off around 24th July, back in the shed creating artwork. The Highland cows have been my best sellers so far — we’ve sold about four now, retailing at £17 with £3 postage. I’ve even started posting to Europe, which is going to be a challenge in itself.

But like I keep saying, this isn’t about becoming rich. It’s about making enough money to live.

I live in Selston, and I don’t want to leave. I’ve been here a long time, and since living here I’ve made friends, built relationships, lost people, and grown as a person. Having my own space means the world to me. It allows me to rest properly, reset when my body needs it, and prepare for the weeks where I’m flat out with gigs, workshops, and admin.

Disabled Cants, Money, and Reality

We ran Disabled Cants on the 26th, and if I’m being completely honest, it nearly broke me financially.

Money has been running out for a while — I’ve known that for months. I’ve applied for Universal Credit, and they’re still assessing me, saying I might not be “disabled enough”. I understand they have to evaluate everyone, but it’s frustrating.

Over the last two to two and a half years, I’ve employed over 200 disabled performers. I’ve run nights at a loss. I’ve paid my comedians even when I’ve walked away with nothing. And that’s because Disabled Cants isn’t about me.

It’s about helping the next generation of disabled comedians shine in an industry that still isn’t built for them.

I always pay my acts. I always try to do things properly. Yes, sometimes I take a bit from the bucket — but that doesn’t even come close to covering the real costs. Facebook advertising alone is around £90 a month, and if you’re not careful, Facebook will happily take another £90 without you noticing.

People say you don’t make money in business for the first five years — and they’re right. I’ve worked at a loss the whole time. I’ve used my savings, and honestly, I don’t regret it. I’ve loved the freedom of building something meaningful without constantly worrying about what the Jobcentre or the government might do next.

But that worry is still there — and I know most disabled people live with that anxiety every day.

I want to work. It’s not my fault my body shuts down every few weeks. I’m not moaning — I’m just trying to work out how I can keep doing what I love and still eat and pay the rent.

I’ve had to ask my family for help again, and I really hope it’s the last time.

Gigs, Growth, and Keeping Visible

On a positive note, I did Just the Tonic in Leicester on Saturday 30th, and it was a good gig. I could’ve done better — but that’s comedy. I forgot a couple of bits, and I’m back there on Friday, so hopefully I’ll smash it.

I love gigging for Just the Tonic. They’re supportive, they help you up the stairs if you need it, and the green room is great. I also got to speak to David about Edinburgh, which could lead to some paid children’s gigs — and that would be massive.

It’s all about networking. I might go home after my set, but before it, I’m always chatting to the pros. Even if you’re in the middle, the closer will often give you feedback — and that matters.

Support, Pain, and Learning to Listen

Back at home, the shed work continues. It’s slow, but it’s bringing money in. I now have a support worker, which has made a huge difference — helping me eat, plan my day, schedule tasks, and package artwork. That support genuinely keeps me going.

I should also say that I’m still looking for another support worker, as we may need an extra one. So if you know anyone who might be interested in morning support, please do let me know. Having the right people around me changes how my days run and how much I can realistically manage.

The pain lately hasn’t just affected gigs and workshops — it’s even started to affect my days at the farm. And anyone who knows me knows how important the farm is to me. Farm work is my mental health tablet. It gives me time in nature, space to breathe, and the chance to be around good people without pressure. Without the farm, I honestly don’t think I could do half of what I do now. It keeps me grounded.

This week, though, my body really said no. The pain’s been intense, and I had to cancel a training day because I was burning the candle at both ends. That’s on me.

So here’s my new rule: one full day off a week. No work. No guilt. Just resting, meeting friends, watching TV, or doing something social — because I actually enjoy being around people, and it helps me recharge properly. Listening to my body doesn’t mean hiding away; it means pacing myself better.

The Bit I Haven’t Said Out Loud

There’s also something I haven’t really told anyone until now.

With all the work I’m doing — trying to earn money, keep things afloat, and not let anything slip — I know I’m slowly damaging my body. Some days I can’t even properly feel my arms; they’re full of pins and needles. That’s scary if I’m honest.

But please don’t read this and pity me. That’s not what this is about.

This is just the real Benny being honest. I’m not going to stop doing what I love — I just need to learn how to do it smarter and kinder to my body.

If anyone reading this can learn to listen to themselves earlier than I did, then sharing this is worth it.

Creating and Finding Joy

On Sunday night, even though I was in a lot of pain, I went live on TikTok and spent the evening painting my Valentine’s cards. Around 175 people joined, watched, commented, and chatted — and honestly, that’s what it’s all about.

It reminded me that just because you’re in pain or struggling doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy the things you love doing. I could have stayed stuck in my head, but instead I created something, connected with people, and actually enjoyed myself.

That balance — creating, connecting, and not pushing too hard — is something I’m learning to value more.

Looking Ahead

Looking ahead to the next few weeks, the focus is on getting better at the farm, pacing myself properly, and building strength again.

I’ve also got four days away in Hull next week, doing what I love — delivering workshops in schools and teaching children all about disability awareness with Blue Badge Bunch.

This is what it’s all about for me. Teaching the next generation that just because you’re disabled doesn’t mean you can’t do anything. If kids grow up understanding that early, then maybe the world will be a little easier for the next lot coming through.

And finally, if you’re reading this and you want to help me, there are simple ways you can do that. You can share my posts, tell people about the work I’m doing, and if you fancy it, you can buy one of my artworks from my online shop — the link’s right there on the front page at the top of the website.

I don’t want handouts — I never have, and I never will. That’s why I keep working, creating, and pushing forward. Not because it’s easy, but because I believe in helping myself while helping others along the way.

I’m tired.
I’m learning.
But I’m still here — and I’m still going.