Will’s story

After 18 months with Threshold, Will is ready to live independently and was recently nominated for a council property.

How I lost my home

Two years ago, I was living with my ex-partner, her autistic nephew and our 12-year-old son. It was a very complicated situation. My son doesn’t know he's mine and the relationship was getting strained. My mental health wasn’t great, my partner was staying out three nights a week and I lost my job because I was ill. She ejected me from the house after that, so I went back to my mother's, but that was not a great environment either. I grew up with a violent step-father who had recently left, and my mum’s and sister’s mental health wasn’t great – everyone was in therapy except for me.

There were arguments, which one day led to an altercation. My mother left the house and the police were called. They let themselves in and I was arrested. When I got released from the police station, at about 10pm, I wasn’t allowed to attend my mother’s property, so I went to my partner’s. My son told me that she had gone to her friend’s, and her friend told me that she was with her ex-partner. The man who my son believes is his father. After finding out she had cheated, I left. I would rather sleep on the streets.

It's not the first time I've had to do it. Because of the relationship with my step-father, I have been in and out of hostels from the age of 16. I was in supported housing for young people in Cirencester for a couple of years and I lived in a tent in my early 20s.

After a few days sleeping rough, my ex let me come back for a couple of hours to sleep and charge my phone. We ended up having a conversation and we agreed to try and work through it. But after about four days she decided to go back to staying out overnight again and my trust was completely shattered. It caused arguments and she asked me to leave.

Life on the streets

I stayed outside ASDA for two months. I didn't think I was going to survive. It was cold, depressive, bleak. I barely slept. I walked around a lot at night, trying to tire myself out. Nando's had a long, padded bench and that was the only thing comfortable to sleep on. I'd wait until between 3am and 5am and go and lay my head on that for a couple of hours. But you try to relax and then every 10-15 minutes you hear a noise or something, and you're on alert because you don't know who's doing what. From previous experience, some people are not very kind to homeless people, so you've got to be aware of what's going on around you.

Some people will just ignore you, some will whisper, some will talk to you just because they're curious. Some people just want to agitate you. So you can never really relax.

The night security guard was kind enough to let me charge my phone. I pleaded to friends online, asking if anybody could send me a few quid so I could get something to eat. Anything I could get that people were kind enough to give, I tried to make last as long as possible. I just got McDonald's once a day. It was cheap, warm and it's something of substance.

I phoned the council's emergency housing service, but they never got back to me. If you're a single male, you're bottom of the pecking order. Housing providers consider you a low priority, unless you've got a vulnerability like a disability or an addiction. It is understandable that they tend to favour helping women, children and people that are vulnerable, but it makes it difficult if you are a single male without dependents. Every time I've tried to get help I've either not heard back or been told to collect some pillows and a quilt and bed down in a shop window.

I then contacted Threshold, and two weeks later they asked me to come in for an interview. It went really well and the staff were very understanding. About four or five hours later they offered me a room. It was my birthday weekend.

Moving into Threshold

Once Threshold had seen me, made contact and had the interview, they were really quick, really helpful.

When I first moved in, I didn't have a lot of hope. I was just thankful that I had a roof over my head and not having to brave the weather.

The staff members genuinely had my back. They gave me help with the food bank, getting my benefits sorted, stuff I needed to set me up. You don’t just get brushed off and put in a pile of paperwork. It gives you the confidence to go forward.

When I got here, the aim was to make sure that I had the time to feel comfortable enough to get right within myself, so that when I move on, I’m not going sabotage it to the point where I end up coming back and repeating the cycle.

Addressing my demons

I spent a lot of time self-reflecting. Sometimes you've got to look at yourself and take accountability. It's about getting myself to a place where I'm going to be as prepared as possible to do the best going forward.

During my 18 months at Threshold I've done both court-ordered and self-referred therapy. I’ve learned a few different techniques and a lot about myself. They don't just do talking therapies - they do creative, music, art therapy, so if you're not sure you want to talk, there’s a way in the door that gives you the confidence to tackle the talking therapy when you're ready.

I've learned a lot of things I wasn't fully aware of through therapy. It opened my eyes to why I was making a lot of the poor decisions I made. A lot of it was impulse and self-sabotage. I was completely unaware, thinking I was trying to help myself but I was actually making it more difficult for myself.

Therapy helped me learn to process things in a healthier way. I always keep it in the back of my head for times when there might be a new obstacle that I need a coping strategy for.

It's hard work and you've got to be honest about your own role in things. Even if it's not necessarily your fault at the core, you still have a role in that situation. If you can acknowledge that and be honest then I think therapy is great, especially for men, because not enough of us do it.

Stigma, drugs and mental health

If you ask 90% of the men at Threshold, we haven't known how to ask for help. If we ask we get brushed off. And I feel for men, we're so used to hearing that no one will help, that it puts us in a place of thinking, ‘I'll stop asking’.

They don't know how to approach therapy, they think they're going to be looked at as less because of the stigma around it. The stigma of, ‘You're a man, man up’.

So they self-destruct. We turn to drugs as an escape and addiction takes over - it numbs it. That's why a lot of us are where we are.

A lot of people who are homeless tend to have mental health problems side-by-side with addiction, because addiction is a coping mechanism. People use it to escape because they don't know how to address their problems.

I think there need to be more organisations with mental health and addiction services combined in Swindon. Unless you get arrested and go to probation, therapy and addiction are never really put together. It's only when you end up in court and then they order you these R.A.D. days and Mental Health Treatment Requirements. You've got to get yourself in trouble to get to receive that help. It's sad that there's not something before the point of court. Prevention is better than cure. It might make a difference to not only the crime figures, but to people's mental health and wellbeing.

Overcoming my addictions

I've got quite strong will power, so any addictions I've had, I've managed to pull myself around. That's because I've been around drugs from about age eight, nine years old. The first time I saw somebody overdose I was 14. From an early age, I was aware of where I didn't want to get to. And every time I saw myself getting to a place where I thought I was reaching, getting closer to the point, I managed to catch myself and pull myself out of it.

I've done everything except heroin. At 17, I did start smoking crack. That was a really low point. I got arrested for stealing charity boxes from outside a church raffle. That was when I knew I had to sort it out.

I didn't do it in the healthiest way. I took myself away from the people I was living with and found a different substance to return to, to help wean myself off crack. I realised that I didn't enjoy that substance anymore. I didn't like how it made me feel. So after I weaned myself off the crack I left it alone.

I didn't want to go to that point of no return, because I've seen how destructive injecting heroin is. The others are destructive as well, but from my perspective, the worst thing I could see was heroin. That was where I saw the most destruction, the most hurt, the most pain.

Supporting my housemates

Because I've been here the longest, I get nominated to be head of the house. I always try and make people comfortable. All the problems get brought to me and I have to figure it out. But if that saves arguments or tension building in the house, I'm happy to do that. They know that if there's any issues, to knock on my door and we can have a conversation. It's better for everyone's mental health if the house is more relaxed.

We're all strangers, essentially, so we've got to learn to navigate each other the best we can. You've got to learn people's habits and remember everyone's human. Sometimes people can get wrapped up in their own stuff and snap at each other and it turns into an argument.

It's not always been the easiest, and sometimes I do lose my mind over trivial things, but it's part of the learning process. Growing up and all that.

Another thing therapy taught me is speaking out about my stuff. When I started talking, I saw the other lads suddenly think, ‘Oh, it's okay to ask about it’.

And they started being a bit more comfortable to open up enough to ask for help, that's something I've been able to give back. One person could just relate to one part of my story and make a different decision. If it has a positive impact on one life, then it's a positive thing come from all the negative stuff.

Court case

I’m currently still going through the court case from my arrest two years ago. In the back of my head is the worst-case scenario, that I could end up in prison, lose the progress I've made here and have to start over again.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it and it's not healthy. I'm trying to remember all the work I've done and ‘therapy’ myself. I recognise that some days are going to be better than others. On the bad days I’ve got the tools to calm myself, quiet the noise and stop myself from making an impulsive decision or self-sabotaging and setting myself back further.

My family

I was told after my arrest not to contact my mum or my sister.

After my therapy spanning all the way back to my childhood with my step-dad, I realised it's better for us to continue to do the work we need to do on ourselves, and then maybe one day, if one of us reaches out, we can figure out if we're in a place where we can meet in the middle and come to an understanding. If not then I have to leave it, for my own wellbeing and the wellbeing of my mum and sister.

I have a brother as well, but I haven't had a relationship with him for a long time. A lot of my friends have passed away in the last 15 years. But hopefully in time me, my mum and my sister can work things out. If not, I have to make peace with accepting what's happened, understanding why it's happened and not closing the door. But being mindful that we might not necessarily be able to walk through it again.

I am concerned about the impact that my behaviour, my life and my relationships with other members of the family has had on my niece and son. But they'll see what my behaviour's like now, they’re very aware.

My son

My son’s 15 this year. He’s still not aware that I’m his dad, but he knows I'm around, he knows I'm here if he needs me and he does reach out if he's got anything on his mind.

It's a messy situation, but that's on me and his mother to sort out. I think she's worried that he will hate her. I don't push too hard these days because it could do more damage than good for him to know the truth now. I have to balance wanting to do the right thing with not being selfish about it.

He wants me around and he has a connection with me. As long as he knows he's got me there if he needs me, then that's the most important thing.

Waiting for my own home

I've been through homelessness a few times. There's always the fear of it happening again. I'm appreciative of all the help Threshold has given me and I'm grateful to be at the point I'm at, where I have been nominated for a Band A council property. But in the back of my head there's always, ‘What if I have to start over again’?

I’m told that with a Band A nomination it's a 12-month minimum wait for a home, but without this nomination from Threshold, it would probably be a three-year wait.

I’m making the most of the time I’m still here trying to improve myself as much as possible, so that I'm giving myself the best chance. So that when I move on, I’m not going to sabotage it and end up coming back. I'm not getting any younger and when you get to 40 you don't envision having to have to start from scratch over and over again. I want to get up, go to work, earn the money and then come home and relax. Not have to worry about things that others take for granted.

I've been training to become a mentor so I can help people in a similar situation to myself. I’ve also done a course in counselling skills and there’s other stuff I'd like to train in, but it’s on pause while I find out what's going on in the court case because I don't want to start something and not be able to finish it.

In two years’ time I’d like to be free - in my own place, hopefully in employment, working towards building that stability – a calm, peaceful life.