Coronavirus and Domestic Violence: Homelessness, Help, and Hope
By: Brooke Antionette
Tags: Coronavirus, Help, Domestic Violence, Survival, Homeless

Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

I currently live in Northern Italy, having moved here in January to Au-Pair for a year. Italy became a ‘Red-Zone’ in March, and we have been under a strictly controlled lockdown ever since. It’s not the year of sunshine, sex, and Aperol spritz I was expecting.

If there’s one thing we can all agree on, it is that Coronavirus is shit. Really shit. Fears surrounding our health, livelihoods, and our future are prevalent — and valid. It’s an uncertain period and one of, if not the most, significant events that have happened in our lifetimes. The loss of human life is devastating and the lockdown is proving more difficult than we could ever have imagined. It has awoken a range of emotions and memories within me, some of which I’d like to share on the off chance that it helps someone, or encourages someone to reflect on their privilege and hopefully make everything a bit easier for them. Safety, homelessness, and domestic violence are topics that flit across my mind regularly at the moment. So many people aren’t living in comfortable situations and I can’t help but think about how this crisis is affecting them. It is important to note that domestic abuse is not always from a partner, it can also be from family members. It affects people of all ages and genders.

Whilst many of my ‘colleagues’ have returned home to their families, I have chosen to remain in Italy as returning to London is out of the question. I could only quarantine with my Grandparents, and that would be dangerous and immoral (despite my Grandma claiming that Covid-19 ‘wouldn’t want it with [her]!’) Though I am away from London — the city itself being more of my home than anything made of brick and mortar — I am in the best possible position. I have a job, a roof over my head, and most importantly — I am safe. I honestly do not remember a time I truly felt secure and at ease in a place where I lived; a place I could sincerely call Home. Where I live right now is not ‘Home’ with a capital H, but it is the closest thing I have.

Domestic violence has been a fact of my life before I even entered the world. My mum was abused by my dad. He died before I turned a year old, so luckily I don’t have any memories of it, but it’s needless to say that growing up wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs. During my teenage years my relationship with my mum worsened, and I pretty much stopped living in her flat when I met my first boyfriend. Unfortunately, my first relationship was intense and toxic, ending badly. It took a huge toll on mine and my mum’s relationship, and when it reached breaking point she threw me out. I was 19, had no savings, was working a low paid hospitality job, and had an array of mental health problems. It was not my finest hour, I must admit. My friends were at University or living in overcrowded houses with their family’s. I wasn’t pregnant or ill enough for the council to help me. I was stuck. I turned to a colleague who took me in and let me sleep on his sofa whilst I figured out how to piece my life together. I felt extremely blessed to not be on the street. Anyone that has been in a position where they don’t have anywhere stable to live knows that sorting your shit out is borderline impossible. I began drinking heavily, replacing meals with weed. I was in a downward spiral and didn’t trust a soul, so there was no-one to turn to for help. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Friendship turned into a situationship, then to a relationship. I was vulnerable, seeking approval and love. The emotional abuse was apparent from the beginning. Something I only realise now; hindsight is a beautiful thing. The abuse escalated from emotional to physical. We hated each other but had sickening codependency. I relied on him for somewhere to live, someone to be with, someone to validate my existence. Our lives were linked. Walking away isn’t easy. It feels easier to stay.

At the end of February 2017, I attempted to take my own life. I’d run out of strength to fight. I was abusing substances, failing university, and not talking to my family. I was barely eating which led me to become underweight. No-one knew how bad my living situation was. Not even those that knew I had overdosed knew the reason why. If this global pandemic had hit 3 years ago, I might not have survived it. I believe I would have lost my life due to suicide or at the hands of my ex-partner.

The timing of this is significant to me. This time of year brings up memories of that broken, young girl I once was. The broken, young girl I always thought I would be, and did not want to continue to live as anymore. The reality is that so many people are just about surviving this in unsafe conditions. People from every single walk of life. For anyone that is currently unsafe: there are services you can contact and the Government has said that the lockdown rules don’t apply to you. If you can get out, please know that even though life seems impossible at the beginning, it will get better. For those of you that cannot get out, know that this will end and that we aren’t going to be locked in forever. One day you will stand on the other side as a survivor, because you are not the problem and you do not deserve to feel unsafe where you live.

This was hard for me to write. I went through a period after this happened where I would overshare massively, but since having professional help and putting the work and patience in to heal, it is painful to bring up. However, I want to share this story because I need people to know how easily you can find yourself in a position you can’t get out of. How quickly life can just happen. Much like how quickly life has changed because of Coronavirus. I need people to know that they are not alone, and it is not their fault that they are not in ideal conditions. Having nowhere to live can force you into a place you would not choose to be in; a place that could be potentially dangerous, even fatal. Life has not been all sunshine and rainbows, but this has put things into perspective for me. I write this as a survivor that got their life back.

If you have the privilege to stay at home, do. Don’t allow the measures to become stricter. Don’t make it necessary for us to be in and out of lockdown for the next year. Have solidarity and respect with people that aren’t in comfortable positions. And for fuck sake, stop picnicking and partying.

Call 999 from a mobile

If prompted, press 55 to Make Yourself Heard and this will transfer your call to the police.

Pressing 55 only works on mobiles and does not allow police to track your location.

Call 999 from a landline

If only background noise can be heard and operators cannot decide whether an emergency service is needed, then you will be connected to a police call handler.

If you replace the handset, the landline may remain connected for 45 seconds in case you pick up again.

When 999 calls are made from landlines, information about your location should be automatically available to the call handlers to help provide a response.

Some links for advice/help during this time:

UK

https://www.gov.uk/guidance/domestic-abuse-how-to-get-help

https://www.citizensadvice.org.uk/family/gender-violence/domestic-violence-and-abuse-getting-help/

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/abuse/domestic-violence/

https://www.refuge.org.uk/

https://www.womensaid.org.uk/

https://www.solacewomensaid.org/about-us/vision-mission

http://www.mensadviceline.org.uk/

http://new.mankind.org.uk/

https://www.stonewall.org.uk/help-advice/criminal-law/domestic-violence

https://www.galop.org.uk/domesticabuse/

INTERNATIONAL

https://www.hotpeachpages.net/europe/