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€840. That’s all we have left each month to survive. And every month, the bank sends us warning letters about the mortgage on our apartment. If things keep going like this, we’ll be out on the street. My name is Ciara, I’m 27. I live in Dublin and work as a barista. To be honest, my boyfriend Conor and I had our whole lives ahead of us. Until that awful day. Conor was in a bad car crash. He’ll never be able to work his trade again. Because we didn't have crazy expensive "Income Protection Insurance," our world completely fell apart. The Disability Allowance from the social barely covers the grocery shop. I work my shifts at the café and take care of him at home afterwards. But it’s nowhere near enough. Inflation is swallowing everything, and prices just keep going up. The bank is threatening to repossess the apartment we put every last cent of our savings into. No matter how hard I try, we’re sinking a little more every day. Last night, I was sitting in the kitchen crying my eyes out