Sleeping with “One Eye Open”: Sarah’s Story of Surviving the Streets as a Disabled Woman

At 40 years old, Sarah never imagined she would be living in a tent in the woods near Frankwell. But after a series of devastating health issues that left her with an addiction to prescription medication, a relationship breakdown, and the loss of her home, she has found herself fighting for survival — both physically and mentally.

“I’m in a tent on my own,” she says quietly. “There are three other tents near me, all occupied by men who use drugs and drink heavily. There’s been fighting, shouting — you never know when it’s going to kick off. My anxiety is through the roof. I’m always on high alert.”

“I’m not sleeping well — I’ve always got one eye open and I’m on guard, scared of being robbed or worse.”

Life on the streets is never easy, but for women, it often comes with an extra layer of danger, stigma, and silent suffering.

Hiding to Stay Safe

“If you stay somewhere well-lit, the council move you on. But if you go further out, you’re hidden — and that’s even more dangerous.”

Sarah’s nights are spent balancing fear and exhaustion. If she camps near town, she risks losing her belongings when rangers clear the area. If she moves deeper into the woods, she becomes isolated and vulnerable.

“I tie things around the tent to make myself feel safer,” she says. “But I’m always scared someone might set it on fire.”

She’s already been robbed once. “My phone was stolen. You can’t ever fully relax — you just rest one eye open.”

The Hidden Cost of Being a Woman on the Streets

“It’s absolutely horrendous. When you’re on your period, where do you put a used pad or tampon? There’s nowhere to wash your hands. You just feel dirty — horrible.”

For many women experiencing homelessness, managing menstruation is a monthly struggle few talk about.

Because her tent is far from public facilities, Sarah has to walk long distances to find a toilet or bin. “I’m disabled — every step hurts,” she says. “But what choice do I have?”

Every week day, she visits The Ark for a shower. “It’s the only time I feel clean and human again,” she says. “It’s such a relief.”

Living in Pain

Sarah lives with vascular necrosis, a rare degenerative condition that cuts off blood flow to her hips and spine. She’s already had one hip replaced, and her spine is deteriorating due to osteoporosis. Her addiction to the pain medications she was prescribed has greatly contributed to her homeless situation.

“If anything happened, I couldn’t run or get help. My hips and spine are crumbling.”

Despite constant pain, she continues to fight for survival. “Living in a tent makes it worse, especially now it’s getting colder,” she says. “But I just get on with it. What else can you do?”

The Pain of Separation

“It hurts horribly. I just want to see them again.”

Sarah’s voice breaks when she talks about her three children — who now live with their father.

After years of battling ill health, addiction recovery, and the loss of her home, Sarah is desperate to reconnect with them.

“I’ve been clean,” she says. “But I can’t get tested because the right services won’t authorise it because I don’t have an address. Without those tests, social services won’t let me see my kids. I’m stuck in limbo.”

Fighting to Stay Herself

Sarah’s resilience is striking. Despite everything, she refuses to give up her sense of self.

“People think when you’re homeless you’ll do anything to stay safe. I’ve had men make passes, thinking I’d go with them for a bed for the night. But that’s not me. I’d rather be cold and in pain than be made to feel like that.”

Even surrounded by chaos, she holds tight to her dignity and integrity. “They call me the snobby one,” she admits with a small smile. “I don’t join in with the stealing or drugs. I’ve worked all my life. I just need a chance to start again.”

Finding Hope at The Ark

When I meet Sarah she’s doing her nails with the Ark’s “pamper kit”. A qualified nail technician she says “That was lovely, like being back at home. The Ark makes me feel human again. You don’t get support like this anywhere else.”

For Sarah, The Ark has become a lifeline. “It’s not just the showers,” she explains. “It’s the people. They help me manage my medication and support me without judgement. They make me feel hopeful again.”

With their help, she’s working towards stable accommodation and rebuilding her life. “If I could just get a flat — somewhere safe — I know I could pull it back,” she says. “I could see my kids again, go back to doing nails, maybe even college. I just need that chance.”

A Final Word

Sarah’s story is one of courage in the face of unimaginable hardship. It highlights the gendered realities of homelessness — the hidden struggles with safety, hygiene, health, and dignity that so many women endure quietly.

At The Ark, we believe no woman should have to face those challenges alone.

With continued community support, we can help more people like Sarah move from surviving to rebuilding.

Help Women Like Sarah Find Safety and Support

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