CASE STUDIES
I live in a two-bedroom flat with my wife and five kids. My daughter has autism and regularly has meltdowns. We have no space to give her on her own. The council don’t recognise autism for medical priority. We sent in all the reports but were refused. She has been to counselling as when she was younger she told us she was going to hang herself. She has sensory problems. Most nights I sleep on the sofa to let her stay in my bed with her mum.
The house is dangerous. I’ve tolerated so much from this landlord. We had no heating for over 12 months because he got an unregistered installer to fit a boiler. I had a gaping hole in the roof for over 18 months that’s now “fixed” with plywood and sealant. He doesn’t care and when I complain he says it’s an old house and he can’t be pumping money into it.
Despite the fact that I will have a good profession, I fear that having to enter the rental market (as I cannot possibly purchase straight away) will result in far too much of my hard-earned salary going towards lining the pockets of the landlord class in Ireland. This may in turn make it difficult for me to actually ever buy my own home – and Housing Minister Eoghan Murphy’s co-living is a disgusting throwback to the tenements of 19th and early
20th century Dublin.
I’ve been in homeless accommodation for five years. I’m in a night shelter which opens at 6.30pm. I have to leave at 10am. I have nowhere to go. I have no family. I walk around doing nothing all day. I have been looking for HAP and never get any luck. I’ve been to viewings and never get called back. My mental health is terrible. I suffer from anxiety and depression. I was 29 when I became homeless. I’m nearly 34 now. I have no life. This will be my fifth Christmas stuck in a little room, no Christmas trees, no nothing.
A dog would be treated better.
A close friend of mine bought a car with no tax, NCT or insurance just so he can sleep in it instead of sleeping on the streets. The police took the car from him. Little did they know it was the only place he could feel safe at night to sleep with some bit of heat. The homeless hostels are a joke with people taking heroin and other drugs in the same room. He’s afraid he will end up on hard drugs too.
I know we’re not homeless. We have a roof over our heads – and for that we are truly grateful. There’s myself, my husband and my five kids living in a two-bed flat. It is dampriddled, doesn’t matter what we do with it. We continue to have frequent floods. Myself and hubby share a room with the two youngest while my three older girls squash into a box room.