This one’s an interesting one for me, both personally and in my role as a reporter for Groundswell.
Temporary for me has been, a garage, a shed, a sofa, a hostel, a room in a shared house, yet what I sought for in each was ‘safety’. Some were damp, or scary, others basic but functional, some were warm but not every time.
For others, it’s a similar thing, yet we all flow in different ways and what works for one doesn’t mean it’s right for others.
For me, some didn’t have an address to register for services or support, so I’d use a ‘temporary address’ to get round that, important documents would be sent there for me to collect, other things went ‘missing in action’ and that meant missing appointments which delisted me from support.
What few possessions I did have were a concern, which often meant asking people if they had some storage space for mine for a bit – most of the time I was fortunate, but not always and then the reality of lugging stuff round with me confirming my status or label in the eyes of a judging society. Shops, banks, buses asking me to leave, or being shuffled on to the next spot by ‘authority’.
These are the results of my conscious decision to become homeless, surely I created these conditions…? that ‘you made your bed, lie in it now’ attitude from others – if only there were beds…… I digress.
The sad reality of all this, and for others, is that there isn’t enough accommodation available for everyone – temporary or permanent and until rents are socially affordable, property prices sort themselves out, and landlord’s actually offer safe conditions that keep my health in check. I’m angry and it’s just not right that people existing in our professed compassionate society are forced into soulless, desperate places to sleep.
One day…. maybe next year we’ll be homed Rodney…. 🤫