HomelessnessThe number of families affected by homelessness is expected to double by 2041. We asked people to share their experiences
The number of families affected by homelessness is expected to more than double in the next two decades, with a further 200,000 households affected by 2041, according to a report.
Those sleeping rough will soar by fourfold to more than 40,000 in the same period, according to research by Heriot-Watt University, commissioned by Crisis, the homelessness charity.
We asked people to share their experiences of homelessness.
Paul Curtis, 68, who lives on a narrowboat: ‘My home was repossessed because I could not pay my mortgage’
I became homeless when my marriage broke up. I had taken on a big mortgage and the interest rate went up. I became overstretched when my marriage ended. I had lost an income and then I also lost my job.
I was falling further and further behind with my debt repayments. Though I didn’t know it at the time, I think I was having a mental meltdown. I wasn’t able to cope and began drinking too much. I quit my job because I wasn’t happy with the way things were being run at the organisation. I imagined I would quickly find another job, but it didn’t work out that way.
My home was repossessed because I couldn’t afford my mortgage repayments. More than that, the will had gone. When you get hit by a few things at once it affects your ability to think clearly. You are firefighting all the time. Depression saps your energy: it makes it hard to get up in the morning and put together a rational plan.
As a stop-gap measure, I stayed with friends. What was supposed to be temporary ended up lasting a year. There was a long period when I was rudderless, moving from place to place.
To say I was lucky is an understatement – I never had to live on the streets. The people who put a roof over my head were unbelievably kind and generous and never once made me feel like I was an intruder. But I felt like an intruder. “We are going out, there’s food in the fridge. Help yourself. You know how the remote works. Don’t wait up,” they would say.
I was very aware it was not my home; my stuff wasn’t there and I made no decisions about anything. I was a guest. I would walk around the shopping centre and the streets for hours hoping to exhaust myself, looking at empty allotments and wondering if I could live there.
There’s a feeling of powerlessness when you’re homeless; you feel lost. My experience changed how I see homeless people. After a while I got over whatever it was that was going on in my head. I found a job and a flat and the friends who helped me are still, thankfully, my friends. But I have never got over the fear of homelessness, that feeling of being nowhere.
I am lucky that I now have a beautiful home in which I am very happy. I live on a narrowboat. I am warm and secure and it’s a lifestyle I enjoy – also, what with being retired, it’s a lifestyle I can afford. I know I couldn’t afford to go back into the world and pay rent; the system is rotten. Homeless people are victims of government policy over the past 20-30 years and it’s going to get worse.
Caroline, 44, from Leeds: ‘Mental illness, poverty and homelessness were interlinked’
I have been homeless twice – once when I was 23 and again at 30. Both times it was due to mental health problems.
The first time it happened I left my job because I wasn’t well. I went to stay with my parents, but it didn’t work out and my dad asked me to leave. Then I went to stay with friends.
I was still struggling and one night I had a panic attack. My friends said: “We love you but you’re starting to drive us mad.” So I left and wandered the streets.
I went to a local hostel but they turned me away, saying: “Men only, try a B&B.” My thoughts had gone haywire and I felt tormented. I just didn’t know where to go.
I went to a male friend who turned me away – until he realised I was desperate. Then he made me a bed on his living room floor. He arranged for me to stay with some of his female friends but in my unbalanced state I felt uncomfortable doing this.
I had been going to outpatient appointments at a local mental health hospital. At my next visit with the psychiatrist, I was so desperate I asked if they could take me in. I was admitted for six weeks and although it was tough, it did lead to a turnaround. They got me on medication. When I left, I got a rented room and rebuilt my life. I got part-time jobs and later went on to study.
The second time I became homeless it followed a similar pattern. I had been working part-time in a shop but ended up leaving. So I had no job and rent to pay. I applied for benefits but the money got sent to the wrong account. Eventually it got sorted out but I then became ill. I withdrew from the benefits system because I found it too complicated to handle in my confused state. I soon couldn’t afford the rent and had to leave my property.
A few friends tried to help me, and one tried to help me access benefits. I stayed at people’s houses for a few nights. My relationship with my family became strained and I was taken into a local mental health hospital. Thankfully, I never slept rough or on the streets but I was close to sleeping in a park.
The whole experience was terrifying both times, not knowing where I was going to spend the night. I felt abandoned and alone. At times I had no one to turn to. I would ask friends if I could sleep on their floor. They came through for me at first but then the help ran out.
I was warned off hostels so I didn’t want to go there. You get so many knockbacks. I remember all my belongings being stuffed into a few bags I carried around with me. Eventually things got better and I clawed my way back to sanity and got a good job.
Mental illness, poverty and homelessness were interlinked in my case – I’m sure that’s the situation for a lot of people. Safety nets can fall apart and I went into a downward spiral. I would like to see an end to the stigma attached to homelessness. It can be a terrifying and devastating experience that no one should go through.
Tony*, 57, from Somerset: ‘I was not working and taking heroin day in, day out’
I made a mistake when I was younger and got caught smoking dope. I ended up having to do a short prison sentence. After that I decided to leave my home town of Derby.
I ended up living in a London Fields tower block with a friend. I moved in with him but we fell out after a while and I couldn’t find anywhere else to go. I started squatting and travelling.
When I was in London I started taking drugs. That stopped me sorting myself out and finding a place. It wasn’t a nice time and there were not many jobs around.
I ended up being homeless on the streets on and off. I would sleep rough for a few weeks or a month. I served a few spells in prison but I would usually end up on the streets again as when I got out I had nowhere to live.
In the mid-1990s, I went into rehab and did OK for about four or five years. The recovery lasted until my son died; that sent me over the edge. After that I was not working and taking heroin day in, day out. It took me seven years to get back on track.
After another rehab stay I finally got it right and became involved with a local homelessness charity – first as a volunteer, and now as a full-time support worker.
Homeless people are just people. I will never promise a client anything because when I was homeless, some agencies said they would do X,Y or Z for me and then they’d come back with a valid reason why they couldn’t. That was tough.
My boss thinks I tend to be not too soft but maybe too understanding. It’s true that I empathise with the people I work with and see things more from their perspective.
* Not his real name.
This article was amended on 5 December 2023 to remove some personal information.
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