Debbie explores how it feels to be homeless as well as the importance of local connections and being registered as homeless.
A lot of people still think homelessness is a choice.
It’s not. It’s desperation.
When I was younger, I was always told I was worthless. I was nothing. Having had a bad relationship with my mother, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
I’ve slept on the streets, lived in hostels, other forms of temporary accommodation. I’m 51 now, and half my life, on and off, yeah, homeless.
The whole reason I ended up in Manchester, Salford area is I was in Shrewsbury. I was sleeping in the sort of emergency doorway bit of a doctor’s surgery.
One night these two guys came round. One had a syringe and the other had a Rottweiler. ‘Give me all your money.’
‘Well, I’ve got 50p. You can have it.’ And I got a lovely black eye.
So they stuck this syringe just here and says to me, ‘You’re leaving town tomorrow aren’t ya?’
And I went, ‘Yep, fine.’
This is where I ended up.
This is called First Street. This used to be a lot less posh than it is now.
Used to be where you came to register as homeless. In order to get any help, you have to be registered as homeless. Then there’s the local connection. You have to have been resident in a particular local authority area for three years out of the last five years.
And if you haven’t, you do not have a local connection and they are quite within their rights to tell you to go back where you came from, basically.
I think it was just down here. I think that’s where the YMCA was.
Certainly did not have the local connection. So I got told to f- off.
Somewhere where that building now is, there was a load of grass with some really big bushes and I was actually thinking of sleeping in the bushes.
You know, fortunately I found one of the day centres and then they got me into the night shelter and the hostel.
There it is. Joan Lestor House. Ended up just moving in straight
into this hostel basically and spent 18 months in there. That window there. That was mine. That was my room.
Absolutely gorgeous. Purpose-built hostel. Sixteen women. Had great fun in there. Doesn’t exist anymore.
It says there, nine one and two-bedroom apartments.
Usually you’re only allowed to stay there like a year. But they let me stay there for the 18 months so that I could get this damn local connection
and bid for properties.
But, you know, so many other people just fall through the gaps and end up on the streets for years.
Out of the hostel in Walkden, I moved into this tower block. And again, that flat doesn’t exist anymore.
Ended up homeless again. Ended up sleeping on my friend’s settee for a couple of years.
I’d have died on the streets. My alcohol intake was getting higher and higher and I’d have killed myself. But fortunately there was people around that cared. People that were willing to help. Back again.
A friend of ours died of an accidental overdose and I could see I was headed in the same direction. And it was almost a year to the day
after his death that I went into rehab.
I’m clean and sober, just over three and half years now. And intend to stay that way. It’s given me a whole new lease of life.
It’s led me to the point where I’m doing something that I’ve always wanted to do, helping people, making a difference in other people’s lives.
Because I was in the rehab, I got a flat pretty quick, really. You know, I was bidding for about six months altogether, whereas I’ve known people
that have been bidding for years.
In we go.
But they offered me this absolutely amazing little flat. I bought this pack here ‘Cat Grass’ or something it’s called. And it’s starting to sprout. Never been good with plants.
And because it’s a housing association, it is my forever home.
I can stay in that placeuntil the day I drop.
Which I’ve never had before.
And oh, it’s the most special feeling in the world. And it’s magic.
It’s magic.
