When I first approached my local council for help I was virtually thrown into a single room in a very seedy guest house that had seen better days and if I’m going to be honest, smelt like a cannabis farm. The room consisted of a single bed, a wardrobe and a broken microwave located on the floor, next to a burnt-out plug socket.  

I certainly didn’t feel safe being in that room, but I was grateful at least because I would no longer be sleeping rough. The manager was affable enough, very approachable, although I got the impression that he’d done the whole meet and greet thing over and over again as his guest house hosted a performance of  a musical melody comprised of homeless feet through a revolving door. 

I stayed there for a total of 19 days, until I eventually received a very welcome phone call off the homeless team saying that they’d secured me a room in a local hostel, and that it would be a gateway into possibly gaining more permanent housing – at least this is how it was sold to me.  

Nevertheless, I was excited. I was almost jumping for joy and I was finally looking forward to something that perhaps could start to resemble a positive future. On the day of the appointment, I turned up ahead of time, very keen to begin what could be the start of a new life. On arrival, instead of being shown to my room, I was shuffled into what can only be described as a cell and I was subjected to a very personal interview.  

I was asked questions which I had already been asked by the local authority. Questions such as my drug and alcohol intake, my conviction rate and they even inquired as to my sexuality. I felt my rights were being violated, I felt degraded and demeaned. Why did they need to ask these questions? 

 I had already gone through this process at an earlier stage with the homeless team. Why did they need to ask about my sexuality, what the bleeding hell had this interview to do with anything? Following this, I was taken to the reception area and told to wait. A few minutes later I was approached by a member of staff and told that I didn’t qualify for a room and I was asked to leave. 

I wasn’t given an explanation and though they didn’t say the words I felt like I was being told I didn’t belong here and to just fuck off! Anger, disappointment, upset, sadness, despair, shock and above all – overwhelming loneliness, a complete turnaround from what I had felt earlier in the day. I am normally an extremely strong willed person but this had absolutely floored me and I felt worthless. I didn’t feel like a human anymore and I began to experience sensations I’d never experienced before, self-loathing and a hatred of being alive. I left the hostel not wanting to cause a fuss, but yet not knowing where my current path would lead because I was completely lost.