Why am I homeless?

My story is quite a long one. There were lots of things that lead to how my being homeless eventuated. I have walked many different roads. 

It's hard to talk about why I'm homeless. I have been too caring, too giving and too kind over the years. None of the people I have helped ever returned the favour. I always lived in hope that things would change.

Thinking of all the events that have lead me to this brings back a lot of pain.

Let's start with this one. I was in a hit-and-run accident. I suffered a lot of breaks. I was black, blue, yellow, red and purple for 8 weeks. I was 29. I guess that when you die, which I practically did, you get the attitude that there is no future. How quick everything can come to an end. Live for today, there is no tomorrow. That's how I was thinking. It took me 2 years to recover from the accident physically. Mentally I blocked it out.

But, there is tomorrow isn't there? I lived a life of not really giving a damn for a while. Eventually I returned to work. I had been on disability for 12 years and raising my son.

There were other contributing factors to my homelessness. I got involved with some nasty relationships. There is nothing I don't understand about domestic violence. I had cared for and spoilt the men in my life, even though they treated me that way. Now I am alone. There are no more black eyes. There are no more sleepless nights living in fear.

When my son and decided to go our separate ways I was alone. So I worked. I scored mining work doing shutdowns. It was great money, but not consistent work. I did not have a home. I lived in camps and holiday accommodation for 7 years. I paid cash for my car and led a nice life. Then the injuries started reoccurring and I couldn't work. Money started getting low and eventually it just ran out.

I had lived the high life thinking it wouldn't end. I didn't think about tomorrow, or the future - just the now. The life I was leading was exciting, but it had a lot of disadvantages. When the mining work wasn’t available, I painted for years which lead to two carpel tunnel and two tennis elbow operations.

Relying on Newstart and living in a car and paying into health fund because of poor health don't match. Writing about my story has now given me a goal in life. I am a fighter. Feeling down is easy when you're homeless. Apparently, according to the authorities I am not technically homeless because I have a car to sleep in. I can't quite work that one out.

I hope that by writing this all down that I am helping others in similar situations, or helping people who may be heading down the same track. I don't have all the answers, but I think that a simple gesture from one that understands can make all the difference. So if all I am saying is helping – yahoooo!