Maz’s story

After being separated from her mum and then her sister as a child, Maz was drawn into what she describes as “a world of addiction”. Eventually she ended up sleeping rough in London, where St Mungo’s outreach teams were able to help her get support.

Two years on, she has completely transformed her life. Maz looks back on those experiences and describes how much things have changed. This is her story.

Our 50 year history is filled with some extraordinary people. To mark our anniversary, we will be profiling 50 Lives throughout 2019 – a snapshot of those who have played their part in our story. You can read the stories on our website at www.mungos.org/50-lives.

Andrew’s story

Andrew was homeless for five years after becoming addicted to alcohol and drugs. After a relationship breakdown, he began living in the woods. He is now Service Manager of the Bournemouth and Poole Rough Sleeper team. This is his story.

Someone gave me drugs at 11

I took drugs and alcohol every day from the age of 11 all through High School. I did my GCSEs and got four without doing any revision. I don’t know how many I’d have got if I’d actually done any work!

When I was 17, I got a job on a building site driving forklift trucks. It was a big turning point because I went from earning £80 a week to £340. I had all this money to party with and started going to illegal all-night raves.

When I got to my late 20s the drugs had dropped off but the drink took over.

I had no control, the drink controlled me

I drank from the moment I got up until the moment I passed out, then I’d wake up and do it all again. I was married by then with a young daughter, but it made no difference.

I ended up in prison many times for fighting. Even there I got hold of alcohol. I’d be released, and I’d go to get more drink. I had no control over it, drink controlled me. I’d get up and drink 2.5 litres of white cider or four cans of special brew. If I didn’t drink in the mornings I’d shake violently and have seizures.

I got divorced and carried on drinking.

I lived like a hermit in the woods

After my divorce, I moved in with a woman. But when that relationship broke down, the stress was too much and one day I thought, “I can’t do this anymore.”

So, I left to live in the woods where I slept on a makeshift bed in a hollow for months. There was a garage at the end of the road where I got my alcohol. Then the money ran out so I started begging.

I’m 6’5″ so I looked quite intimidating, but people did have a go. I woke up with lots of cuts and bruises and wouldn’t know how I’d got them. I was arrested, I was sectioned, I was ordered into detox and rehab many times by courts and local authorities, but it just made things worse.

The GPs would just throw withdrawal drugs at me which didn’t help. I wasn’t mentally ill; I was desperately fighting an addiction.

With money I made from property after my divorce, I decided to go to Bali. I stayed for a year, taking drugs and drinking whisky. I was lonelier than ever – my only friend was Jack Daniels. I returned in 2008 and spent the rest of my money on detox programmes.

13 months in rehab

When I was finally ready to get better and tackle my demons, I spent 13 months in local authority rehab. During that time, I began volunteering with people who were homeless. The experience led me to apply for my job at St Mungo’s in 2017.

Half my team has been homeless

Today, I’m the manager of a 17-strong local outreach team who work every day, in all weathers, to help people sleeping rough. Last year, we worked with 554 people and helped nearly 300 people come off the streets. Around half of our team have experienced homelessness – it gives us a unique insight into the challenges our clients are facing.

We tailor our work to the people we work with, helping them find a home for good.

Today, I ran into a person who was homeless at the same time as I was and he said, “I’m incredibly proud of you.” He’s still begging, but said I’d given him hope.

I love getting up and going to work. When I look outside I see three people huddled on the streets, but I know my team will be there shortly engaging with them and helping them.

We never give up on anyone

We recently helped a local man into housing who had been sleeping rough for 22 years. He’s now living in private accommodation.

The key is persistence: talking to people, building relations, giving them hope and trust.

We work in partnership with local organisations: alcohol and drug services, physical and mental health practitioners. We’re proud of our work in Bournemouth and our commitment to the community. We never give up on anyone.

From addiction to helping others at St Mungo’s

I’ve been sober nearly 11 years. I drive home to my wife, my stepchildren and my dog – and I’ve never been happier. I’m so grateful to have my daughter back in my life after so many years, and we are enjoying rebuilding our father-daughter relationship.

I was a painful thorn in everyone’s side – now I lead a team helping others. I always said I’d never get another wife or a mortgage, and now I have both and a great job at St Mungo’s! I’m truly blessed.

Lee’s story

Lee was homeless for 26 years. With the help of St Mungo’s he became determined to change his life. Today, he is volunteering with our Westminster outreach team and teaching trade skills at our Train and Trade service. This is his story.

I was homeless on and off for roughly 26 years, which I was told might be something of a record by housing staff.

I left home at 17, but I was extremely vulnerable and susceptible to abuse. I squatted in a five storey building with a group of guys but they took advantage of me, used me, beat me up and forced me to beg for them.

I managed to escape and went to a night shelter for a bit and I then moved to shared accommodation in Balham.
I was terribly lonely and never saw anyone.

I spent more of my time on the streets than in the flat on my own. I wanted to be free and actually felt safer on the streets. On the streets I was my own man and didn’t have to follow any rules.

Drink was my enemy

I left school at 16. Drink was my enemy and my biggest problem. I also took drugs – anything I could get my hands on – crack cocaine, cannabis, ecstasy, acid. On top of that I had a gambling problem. I drank from the minute I woke up until the moment I passed out. I had 10 to 15 cans of lager, or sherry or wine every day.

At times, I was drinking so much I actually begged my probation officer to send me to prison to get a break from it but they refused.

It was a vicious circle. Every time I drank heavily I ended up in prison. I was jailed nine times for drink offences, drugs and burglary. I was sent to several rehabs and detoxes but nothing worked.

I lived on a prison boat

In 2000, I was sent to Weymouth to live on a prison boat for eight months after being convicted of burglary. I think it was the only prison boat in the UK. It was for inmates getting ready for release.

Conditions were very cramped and overcrowded. I had to share a tiny cabin and shower. When I was released I started drinking again.

St Mungo’s helped me get sober

I was sleeping rough when St Mungo’s outreach workers contacted me. I couldn’t even talk to them as I was so paralytic with the drink I could barely stand. But they came back the next night and persevered with me – and thank God they did.

They put me in touch with other agencies to help me stop drinking. I was sent to detox and finally it worked. I will never drink again. It doesn’t bother me anymore. I don’t take drugs either.

I’ve been sober since 9 March 2016. That date is etched in my mind. I know if I have just one more drink I’ll be back on the streets, back in prison.

I started volunteering for St Mungo’s

I had no skills before I did the course with Train and Trade. They taught me lots of practical stuff like painting which I was really good at.

Unfortunately, I developed tennis elbow so now I teach students skills like painting, plumbing and changing locks.
I also volunteer with the outreach team in Westminster. I went out with them 14 times in one month recently helping to get people off the streets. I find it so rewarding.

I will never be homeless again

Now I work with outreach teams, I see what they’re dealing with every night on the streets.

Through St Mungo’s my life is so much better. I’ve come so far. It’s brought structure, stability and security and I never want to lose that.

I’m applying for paid jobs with St Mungo’s. I know I can do it, I have the experience, I’ve lived the life, and I’ve been there and done it, so I can share that with others. I have a one bedroom flat in West London and I’ll never go back to being homeless again.

Richard’s story

Photo of Richard Boyce Endsleigh Gardens, Camden

When Richard found himself overwhelmed with health issues, including a rare medical condition, it took a big toll on his mental health, eventually making him homeless. Staying at our Endsleigh Gardens hostel in Camden has helped him rebuild his life. This is his story.

In 2017 I got a rare type of pneumonia. So rare they want to write about me.

Before that I’d lived with my parents for well over 15 years, in their lounge. Then I left and went to live with a partner. But when I ended up in hospital, and everything started going wrong.

The pneumonia was bad. They say I might even be the first person in the world to have the symptoms I had.

But while I was in hospital with that, they found I also had a blood clot in my kidney. They couldn’t decide how to treat me – one department wanted to do one thing to help my kidneys, but the people dealing with my lungs wanted to do something else.

I ended up losing my kidney. That, the pneumonia, and then getting told I had a chronic condition that meant my other kidney only was only working at 30% – it was a really difficult time.

I had all these scars from the operations. They made me feel really self-conscious. And splitting up with my partner as well at the same time made it too much.

That year I took three overdoses. I went into a mental health unit where I was sectioned and that’s where I started drinking.

When you have depression, alcohol is really no good. But I struggled trying out all the different medications – we got there finally, but the process of getting there was really hard.

Once the medication started working, I moved into Endsleigh Gardens.

Since moving in here, the biggest change is my appearance. By that I mean – before, you just wouldn’t have seen me! At first I wouldn’t even come out of my room. I used to stay in and drink. Around six months after I moved in, I came down at night for the first time and someone thought I’d only just arrived.

But the staff here are always lovely, always sorting things and asking if you want to do things. My support worker, Maria, seems like she’s won the lottery every day. Always smiling.

I tell her things I didn’t think I would tell her – or anyone. Before I kept everything bottled up and that’s where the depression came in. It would just build. She’s so friendly, you just open up.

Once I some of my things went missing. Before, I wouldn’t have said anything. I would’ve let it all pile up, become too much, and overdosed or something like that. But I told Maria. Things like that, it’s real. I can really open up.

Eventually I went to a residents’ meeting where we decide what things we’re going to do. We go to theme parks, go karting – but personally, my favourites are the museums and galleries. I love art.

Now I have so much going on. I’m a Client Rep, we’re off to Brighton and maybe Paris later in the year and I’m training to do the Ben Nevis Challenge with St Mungo’s.

I mean, I couldn’t ask for any more from the help that I’ve been given.

It’s been so nice but I’m hoping to get my own place.

I miss my possessions – I collect art and have loads and loads of paintings. It’d be great to have them up in my own place.

We’re in the process, me and Maria. I’ve done a course in coping on your own, dealing with depression, stuff like that, and we’ve filled in nearly everything now. Maybe six months ago, I don’t think I would’ve been able move on but now I’m ready to take the next step.

Onwards and upwards.

Photo of Richard Boyce climbing Ben Nevis — Richard climbing Ben Nevis, September 2019

Wendy’s story

Wendy is a Pathway Navigator for St Mungo’s in Reading. She shares a 50th birthday this year with St Mungo’s. To mark both occasions, here she reflects on 15 years working in homeless outreach, helping people off the streets and into safety. This is her story.

I’d always wanted to do something different – I was always interested in politics and social issues but I was never in a situation to get actively involved in anything.

When I was younger I did various jobs and eventually I ended up doing some volunteering.

I think I got a little bit set up! I was asked to support somebody to go to a community and youth work evening to see if they were interested – but I found myself signing up! The organiser came up to me and said, “Oh, I knew you would, Wendy.”

But I built off that youth and community work. I went to university and got my degree in it.

Just before that I met partner and she was from Reading – I was from Newcastle, originally – so I moved down here in 2002. You follow your heart.

I started out with an organisation called Single Homeless Project (now LaunchPad) and then I joined the outreach team in Reading and have been doing that ever since. I’m still glad I did.

Coming to Reading and getting into homeless outreach was the best decision I made in my life.

It was completely different back then. There was no Homeless Pathway, no SWEP (Severe Weather Emergency Protocol). There was a lot of ringing up on the day, trying to find anywhere for someone to go.

Today it’s much fairer. We go out early with the Health Outreach Liaison Team, we have our own emergency bed spaces to offer people, and we meet with our partners every week to decide on priorities.

I remember doing our first SWEP, which was brilliant. If you’re an outreach worker, you can’t be bothered by the weather. You’ll be out in minus 8°, helping people in from the cold.

You never know what’s going to happen. You might have your day planned but it can go completely different to what you were expecting. And that’s what I like.

It’s the clients that make it worth it. Completely – nothing else.

I can have a client telling me to “f*** off” – 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 times and I’ll keep going back because one day he’ll go, “OK”.

The perception might be that people are violent, vicious, threatening, that they scrounge off the state. My experience is completely different.

I have one Housing First client, he’s got a flat now and it’s lovely. There’s lots of older people around him and, when I visit, he’ll be telling me – “I’ve just been across the road with the step ladder, because she’s trying to clean her windows and I can’t let her do that, Wendy, because she’s elderly.”

He’s such a nice guy but I had to get to know him on a more personal level to connect. I learnt that he’d travelled when he was younger, and we’d talk about places we’d been. I think that for the people who’ve slept rough for a long time, with complex things to deal with, that connection can make a real difference.

There’ll be times I’ll be crying with laughter. That humour and resilience shines through.

There are a few clients that, whenever I think about them, it makes me smile.

Once, I was standing outside waiting for a client and a man came up to me with a little baby in a pushchair and a nice woman next to him. He said, “Wendy, do you remember me?”

And I could remember exactly where I found him. In a car park, just outside Reading town centre, and it was cold, not quite freezing, but very cold. He was huddled under a very thin blanket, massive cocaine habit – just lying there shivering.

Years later, he was introducing me to his partner, and she already knew all about me. He had his own business, a house in Reading – which isn’t easy to get – and a baby. He told me I’d saved his life and asked me to be the guest of honour at his wedding.

It’s the things like that I think about.

Earlier this month, I turned 50. It’s nice – man walked on the moon, St Mungo’s, and me.

I had a big party with friends, old colleagues, people from the team and some I know from Reading Borough Council.

People went up to my mum and said how proud they were of me – told her how I’ve saved lives.

And I never think about it in that light. I just see it as me giving someone tools and opportunity to move on from a situation. But that was a really lovely thing for my mum to hear.

If I’ve prevented one person from dying, I’d be happy. Hopefully, over 15 years, I’ve done more than one.

Gerry’s story

Gerry became homeless at 17 after suffering abuse. He has also survived attacks, alcohol misuse, illness and adversity. After turning his life around, Gerry, 53, is now a project volunteer, peer digital champion and locum worker at St Mungo’s. This is his story.

If I’d carried on drinking, I’d be dead

I left home at 17 after being abused as a child by a family member for about seven years. I turned to drink and drugs. I wanted to escape – escape the abuse, escape my own head, escape my life.

If I’d carried on drinking, I’d be dead. At my lowest, I was drinking a litre of vodka or brandy every day. I’d drink eight or nine cans of lager or bottles of wine. On top of that I’d take drugs. I was self-medicating every single day.

My brother died at the age of 45 with liver failure and it could easily have been me if I hadn’t got help from St Mungo’s.

I bunked off school until I was caught by the truancy officer but no-one ever asked me why I was going off the rails.

At 17, I bought a train ticket to London and just took off by myself. I only had a few coins in my pocket but I knew if I stayed near my abuser, one of us would wind up dead.

I was drugged and attacked when I was homeless

I was homeless for about five years in the 1980s, mainly around London’s West End. That was one of the worst times of my life.

I slept at train stations, on benches, on the streets, anywhere I could.

I was terrified and bewildered. I really thought I was going to die. I was drugged, attacked and raped repeatedly. I didn’t complain to anyone, I just got on with it. Who could I tell anyway?

I regularly sold my body because I was so desperate for money. I took my life in my own hands every day and I never knew what was going to happen. That’s why I carried on drinking and taking drugs because I had no hope, no reason to live. I didn’t want to think and the bottle stopped me thinking.

In 1990, I was diagnosed with HIV, but I had no help to deal with it. It was simply another trauma I dealt with on my own.

In those days I thought a HIV diagnosis meant I would die but they gave me medication to control it and it got better over the years.

St Mungo’s saved my life

I contacted St Mungo’s in October 2017 – on the anniversary of my brother’s death – but it took me three attempts to get the help I desperately needed.

I went to Hackney Recovery Services twice, but turned round and walked away as I just couldn’t face it.

Thankfully I plucked up the courage and I haven’t looked back.

They introduced me to different activities every day, such as mindfulness, sport, talking group therapy, Abstinence Emotions and creative writing.

For the first time I was able to talk about the abuse I suffered as a child. I’d never spoken about my emotions before; the fear, the anger, the pain, the rage, the frustration. I got it all out.

I had 14 months of healing and it’s honestly the best thing I’ve ever done. I would urge people in similar situations to do the same.

I’ve made lifelong friends and we go for a run, or play badminton or tennis instead of having a drink.

Volunteering at St Mungo’s gave me a purpose

I wanted to help people like me so I started working with St Mungo’s as a project volunteer. It’s given structure to my life and a reason to get up. I almost leap out of bed but not quite as I’m getting on a bit! At the age of 52 I finally found my purpose in my life.

I was asked to become a Digital Skills Tutor which boosted my morale no end. I’m not a genius at IT but I had taken a couple of courses and I wanted to share my skills. I’m now a peer digital champion at the Recovery College.

Some of the people who’ve been in prison have never even come across a mouse so I show them how to set up an email address, fill out forms and help write a CV.

I can relate to the people I teach because having experienced abuse, homelessness and addiction – I know what they’re going through. Homelessness can happen to anyone.

I’m now paid to work at St Mungo’s!

I’ve just secured paid work as a locum hostel worker at St Mungo’s. I’m doing that part time so I can still run digital sessions at the hostel.

I’m looking forward to getting my first pay packet and feel really proud of what I’ve achieved. It’s a testament that I’m still here – lots of people I knew didn’t make it.

Since I went through the doors of Hackney Recovery Services, I haven’t touched a drop and I’ve no interest in drinking ever again.

It was the greatest decision of my life to seek help from St Mungo’s and I’m in the best place of my life. I’m one of the rare lucky ones to come out the other side.

Andrew’s story

Photo of Andrew Cook, St Mungo's Support Work in Bristol

Andrew is a Support Worker in Bristol. He draws on his own experience of 13 years sleeping rough to help others. He walks us through his journey and remembers Vince, the amazing support worker who never gave up on him. This is his story.

I was speaking to a client the other day, asking him about his time sleeping rough. He explained where he used to bed down and I said I knew it. He couldn’t understand how. I told him that I had slept rough in London for 13 years. And all of a sudden there was a little bit of connection.

In my twenties life was good. At 28 I was a home owner, I’d been engaged for years, working in sales, company car – the lot. Partying had always been a part of my life, but it felt like that was the same for everyone. I didn’t realise at the time but slowly my drinking took off.

In quite a short space of time I ended up losing my job, my fiancé left me, the company car went back and the flat was sold. I found myself with lots of money from the sale of the flat, and no responsibilities. So I just partied.

By the time I was 29 I was skint and living in a dingy bedsit. I fell in with the wrong crowd and started using drugs.

I started to move around a lot. I thought that if I went to a new town, things would change. I didn’t realise that I was taking myself with me.

I ended up homeless in London. London is a really hard place to be homeless when you’re new. You feel like just another homeless person – a statistic.

There were lots of great people that I came into contact with from St Mungo’s, but Vincent Adams stood out – he was a larger than life character. He was my support worker at quite a few hostels. He was also on the outreach team and when I was sleeping rough at Euston he used to come down and see me, take me for breakfast, and just check how I was doing.

He was always there. Every time I messed up he never judged me. His favourite saying was “when there’s life there’s hope”.

I’d been up and down so much, for so long, that if you had asked anyone they wouldn’t have believed that I could stop using drugs. But Vince thought I could, he could see something in me that I couldn’t see myself.

Vince took me on my last journey out of London to Weston-Super-Mare to a rehabilitation centre. Part of me thinks that if Vince hadn’t taken me on that train, there’s a chance I might not have got there.

A few years later I went back to the hostels to say hello to everyone there. They couldn’t believe it was me. I wasn’t the angry, desperate man that I once was.

When I was there I saw an old friend – we had slept in doorways together for years. As soon as he looked at me he burst into tears, because what I had, he wanted. Nine months later he was in rehab. Seeing me gave him this final push to do it.

Now we have great lives.

I started as an apprentice for St Mungo’s and Vince became my friend. I used to go and stay with his family. They opened their house up to me as a friend. That, now that was just priceless.

When I was rough sleeping I used to push back against Vince, and all these brilliant people at St Mungo’s. It makes me laugh because now I’m the member of staff. I can never be angry when my clients kick off, because that used to be me.

At the moment I’m supervising an apprentice. I’m hoping to, in the future, do our Steps into Management programme. I want to represent lived experience higher up in St Mungo’s to influence how we work.

The people that I’ve met on my journey with St Mungo’s – from volunteering, becoming an apprentice, working at Crisis House and now for floating support – are some of the most amazing people. They will be lifelong friends.

I don’t know what it is about people that work for St Mungo’s, they’ve just got something about them – this drive to help others.

I was asked to speak at Vince’s funeral. He died at the age of 42.

I spoke about his values, his drive, his never give up attitude. It was hard to keep it together.

I used to say to Vince, “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here”. He’d reply by saying, “I didn’t do anything – it was you that did all the work”.

A couple of weeks ago I saw one of my clients. I’d supported her when she was in a really bad place, using drugs. After a lot of work she agreed to go into rehab. I’d taken her all the way there, to make sure she arrived.

She walked over with a big beaming smile, she was brimming with life. She thanked me for everything I’d done. I just said, “I didn’t do anything – it was you that did all the work”.

There will always be a bit of Vince in everything I do.