OnTheStreets - Nobody, Just a Tramp

Rejection from family. Roaming the streets. Sleeping rough. Sexual abuse. Rape. Confusion. Fighting. Stealing. Attempting suicide. Alcohol & Drug abuse. Self harm. This was my life.
I'm very fortunate - I was able to break out of this destructive cycle and move on...so many others are still there.

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Don't Hide It
Advice on issues surrounding abuse. Good site.

Homeless.org
Homeless Link is the national membership organisation for frontline homelessness agencies in England. Our mission is to be a catalyst that will help to bring an end to homelessness.

Missing People
Missing People (formerly National Missing Persons Helpline) is the UK's only charity that works with young runaways, missing and unidentified people, their families and others who care for them. Registered Charity No. 1020419.

Talk To Frank
Advice on all aspects of drugs; their names, how they're used and what they look like.

The Scrine Foundation
The Scrine Foundation aims to improve the lives of marginalised people all year round offering housing, training, employment advice and health care to people in need, and to help people overcome addictions and mental health problems.

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Dear reader,
I am hoping that you may be able to assist me in my ambition to complete and publish a book on the subject of homelessness - based on my own true story.
This book is intended to have several purposes, primarily:

To help me to come to terms with my own circumstances by way of reflection

To enable readers to use my reflection as a tool to gain insight and better understanding of a variety of situations such as homelessness, drug abuse and sexual abuse

To help fund an existing homelessness charity - I have publicly pledged to donate 30% of any profits to The Scrine Foundation (www.scrine.org - registered charity number 1014868)

Background:
My father was a proud man, determined to do whatever it took to provide for and to protect his family. He had married a woman who he loved and trusted - but who betrayed him so many times. He learned of this and believed that I had been conceived by another. So it was no surprise that when my mother walked out of our lives, a fissure of bitterness grew between he and I.
Consequently I grew to be a distant and confused child, feeling unloved and unwanted. I ran away from home when I was 12 and started to mix with the wrong crowd, allowing myself to be influenced by them.
My life turned into a rollercoaster ride of emotions and situations, incidents and issues.
This continued until I was almost 21 - the point at which, without external guidance or influence, I finally found my feet and began to stabilise as a person.
Once I had established a positive self-image, my lifestyle improved at a geometric rate - I worked hard, developed a positive social circle and started to look forward to the future.
Eventually, the insight and knowledge that I had acquired through my personal experiences led me to work for The Scrine Foundation, a charity based in Canterbury, Kent, which aims to help people experiencing similar issues as I had. I was very proficient in this role and helped my clients to overcome and resolve their issues, often before they had cascaded out of control.
I enjoyed working with this diverse group and have fulfilled many roles since, working with addiction, mental health, asylum seekers, ex-offenders and homelessness.
I continue to use my experiences and knowledge in my work to help those who are where I once was.

I started to write my book a couple of years ago. I was inspired to do so after realising just how little people alien to these subjects knew about them. I have chosen to maintain an easy reading format in the form of a story, in the hope that it will appeal to the casual reader (i.e. the reader who enjoys books such as "A child called It" or "Sickened"), as well as the reader who is interested in learning more about homelessness and its surrounding issues - you will be brought as close to experiences such as sexual abuse, loneliness and distress as you may dare to go. You will share thoughts far more personal than you could ever imagine.
I have written just over 52,000 words to date, and am determined to finish and publish this book.
I have looked into various publishing methods, and have concluded that a method known as 'on-demand publishing' will be the most appropriate and cost-effective.
A group called Trafford Press (www.trafford.com) quote approximately £1,300 - for this sum they assist with the final layout of the book, provide an ISBN number, register two copies with the libraries (a legal requirement), and help to promote the book through high profile sales routes such as W.H. Smith and Amazon.com

I have only included an approximate price, as prices are subject to change and I do not wish to provide incorrect information.
This is the initial cost which I am appealing for help with.

I have been working on this project for over two years. I am committed and determined to see it through, and ask that you consider the many potential benefits following its completion.

I am using a pseudonym - this is to protect my own identity, as well as those associated with me through mention in my book (I have changed all names to respect individuals' privacy). The book will be published using this pseudonym.
If you are able to fund me partly, wholly or any other way (for example through advertising), I would be extremely grateful.

Should you require any further information or any supporting documentation, please email me: robertandrews@onthestreets.co.uk

I thank you for your time in reading this, and for your careful consideration.

A few extracts from my book "Nobody…just a tramp"

…my bottom was burning with pain and my sobbing was uncontrollable, almost spasmodic. As I pulled my trousers up I looked at her, my vision blurred with tears.
Why was my mummy doing this to me? She was supposed to love me more than anyone in the world; why was she hurting me?
Eyes that had once looked at me with love now stared hatred at me…

…they attacked me again, kicking and punching me all over; in the face, the body, the privates, everywhere. Again, I thought I was going to die and it didn't feel that it would ever end. I was barely conscious when they stopped. I was face down. I could see and smell my own blood, and could only hear muffled sounds. Then I must have passed out…

..As time went by, I became more and more confused and frustrated. I only wanted to be loved and to be part of something…although I was amongst my own family, I came to realise that I didn't really know any of them - I was a stranger…

…"Dad, can I come home please?" I have never felt such anticipation when asking a question and doubt I ever will again. Dad took a long, deep sigh and paused. I tried to see his face in the darkness for an expression but could not. "I can't let you!" he managed to say. I could hear the upset in his voice and tried hard to control my own feelings of distress after hearing his answer. "Oh…" I replied…

…I started to panic…My fingerprints were all over it, setting into the sticky blood - his drying blood - and I had to sort myself out quickly. I paused and took a long deep breath to gather myself together. My heart was still racing, but my thoughts became clearer and I got an idea…

…After all, it was quite clear that this world didn't have a space for me, otherwise I would be living a wholesome life by now. I was just in the way; an unplanned accident that was clogging up the world, a bit of life's litter blowing in and out of the gutter…

...I sat on a bench on the train station platform and smoked a cigarette before lying down and going to sleep. A couple of trains rumbled through slowly in the night waking me up, and I watched as they trundled on into the darkness before returning to my unsettled slumber...

...After we had eaten, he asked me why I smoked cannabis. “I like it”, I replied. “It’ll make you go crazy. It can make you schizophrenic and paranoid!” he said, sounding genuinely concerned. Of course, I didn’t believe him and told him so...

...Blood was running from my nose and my mouth, and from the side of my head. I had nothing and no one, and I had nowhere to go. Was this going to be the rest of my life? My self-pity deepened and I wept...

...I told you, I'm going to get a job. I'm going to make you and my family proud of me. I'm going to make ME proud of me!" I answered, full of excitement. "Okay. Show me!" he said calmly, looking at me with a satisfied smile on his face. "Now go and heat some stew up, I'm starving!"...