My Story - part 6

One of our Commissioners gives us a privileged insight into their life. They give us the good and they give us the bad. The story helps us understand poverty a little better. Here is part 6.

I ended up in a fight but I can’t really remember very much about it.  I was outnumbered, surrounded by about 20 bodies around me - folk from another area.  I got that - the bottle - down my face.  The night is kind of blurry still, but I get flashbacks sometimes.  I went to hospital myself.  Ran up there and got my face stitched.  And I have to keep looking at that reminder in the mirror, that reminder of how stupid I was.

I went to stay with a friend for a while, and then got back into my mum’s - things were a bit more sorted out for me.  I tried to just stay in at night, not to fall back into my old ways, but then the boredom cut into me and I got back into the wee circle again. The downward spiral again. If I didn’t get out I was going to get put in a box or in the jail.  And so I found myself homeless again.  

That time I went to the Hamish Allan Centre.  They sent me for a weekend to the Talbot, and then when the Monday came, they put me into Clyde Place.  I was there for 5 months.  And the after that I was moved into supported accommodation through the Simon Community.

Then at last I got a flat.  My first home of my own.  It was a three apartment in Tollcross.  They weren’t able to offer me anything smaller, and it was hard work to keep it up and to furnish it, but I loved my flat and it became like home.  My first home of my own.  It meant so much to me and I told myself I would never become homeless again.

Four years later when the bedroom tax came in I was hit with extra money for the spare room I hadn’t wanted in the first place.   I couldn’t afford to pay and got into debt and arrears.  Things spiralled, and I couldn’t cope.  It started to affect my mental health - I suffer from depression - and I wasn’t able to ask anyone for help. I didn’t have the energy. I just dragged me down and down and then I was evicted. I had to give up my nice home.

And here I am now, back in a hostel again.  I thought I would never go back.  I feel as if my life is going backwards instead of forwards.  But I’m not going to let it beat me. It’s a slow process, but I’m just going to keep my head held high.  I don’t want people feeling sorry for me.  I was doing so well.  Don’t say it’s a shame for me.

Watch out for part 7, on Monday...