You might think that experiencing homelessness once was enough. After last years event, I certainly had a better understanding of how difficult it is to sleep in the cold on the world’s worst mattress, the floor. It helped me develop more empathy towards individuals that find themselves sleeping rough each night. But this year, I went back. Why would I go back after such a tumultuous night last year?

This was my experience last year:

The sleepout seemed straight forward enough, I mean, I had done the hard part of fundraising right? What more could there be to it? A bit of a cold night and uncomfortable sleep? Piece of cake.  I was proven wrong before the first activity. The sleepout had been carefully designed and organised to be as frustrating, demoralising and infuriating as possible. Every single thing was hard.  We were cold, hungry, tired and, the worst part for me, powerless. I thought that if I used manners and was patient and did what I was told I would get the result I wanted, however that didn’t work. The first activity had us running through Optus stadium like headless chickens, trying to find visas and passports. The aim of the activity was to fill out your stamp cards, which could be done by visiting a variety of different stalls where we could receive information. We were given a persona to adopt and a scenario. My group visited the meal van several times, thinking we could collect our stamp pretty easily and move on. The first three times we visited; they were closed. Then, the staff took a lunch break just as we reached the front of the line. No amount of pleading could convince them to re-open. On two other occasions, they ran out of food! At around our third time waiting in line for a meal our team got desperate and started contemplating things we wouldn’t normally do (such as breaking the rules, not being polite), But it wouldn’t be until much later that we would discover the most challenging part of the sleepout, sleeping. Every morning, I wake up in a nice bed, with pillows and a mattress, in a house where I feel loved and supported, with a kitchen that is filled with food and not only everything I need, but everything I want. Sometimes, I take these things for granted, and sometimes I forget that not everybody is so fortunate.

We were Provided with thin cardboard mats and told to find any space we could on the floor of Optus stadium. Everyone was tired from the activity and were ready to go to sleep. But sleep was difficult because the blinding lights of the stadium weren’t turned off until a certain time. We loitered around waiting to go to sleep. Once we were all settled in and ready to go to bed, it was time to fall into the best sleep you can fall into when lying on a cold concrete floor. Sleep finally came Then, at an unimaginable time in the morning, we started to hear dogs barking. I then woke up to a loud siren at around 2am in the morning, extremely confused (and slightly panicked) before I caught up to speed with what was happening. Other people heard yelling, and some people woke up to the banging and clashing of rubbish bins. No one had a restful night. In the morning, I was shattered and more tired than when I had gone to bed.

 I will guiltily admit that I was extremely glad to be heading home to my nice warm bed, hot shower and a good breakfast. There is no way I could have then wandered around during the day, after a very small and unfulfilling breakfast, with another night like that waiting for me. I most certainly appreciated my pillows and mattress a lot more that night.

So why did I feel the need to go back for a second year?

Because one night isn’t enough. The wait list to get into some homelessness services can be up to a year. There are strict regulations in relation to these services. Limits on how long you can stay, how much you must be earning and minimum amounts of time before you can apply to the service again. What are people meant to do in the meantime? Our city isn’t designed for people to sleep in. Concrete isn’t soft, people aren’t kind, streets aren’t quiet. And they don’t get to go home after sleeping on the floor for one night. They don’t get to pack up, drive home, make pancakes for breakfast and forget about the night that they’ve had. I will never be able to understand the anguish of spending multiple days at a time wandering through the city, therefore it is my job to use the position that I have to advocate for change.

That is why to me, services such as the Street connect bus that are provided by Anglicare are so important. They provide a safe space and comfort to people who have nowhere else to go. I am so proud to be able to raise money for a service such as Anglicare. With over 98 services in Western Australia, Anglicare has always been there to help and to guide others. The variety of services it provides are often solely funded by donations. The government plays a small role in allocating money to Anglicare’s services, but the majority of funds come from the donations of individuals and corporations.

Supporting Anglicare WA is something I love and I am proud to be involved with such a cause.