My name is Ellen*. I was homeless for many years. The Ferry Project knew about my situation, but I refused to receive any support from them or other agencies. I had complex needs and learning disabilities, and when I did at last move into the hostel I would often have aggressive outbursts, verbally and physically attacking other clients and staff members.

One evening, I was inconsolable. I began vandalising Octavia View, The main Ferry Project building, causing thousands of pounds of damage and risking the safety of everyone on site. They called the police, and when they arrived I attacked the officers. It was clear that they could no longer keep me safely in their service.

Over the following month, staff members would see and hear me around town with an unknown associate. My behaviour worsened, and I was soon causing criminal damage and screaming at the top of my voice at passersby.

Behind the scenes, a number of agencies met out of concern for my safety and the safety of those around me. Many attempted to engage with me on the street, but at best they would have a brief conversation before I would flee and disappear for days on end.

It was then that Ferry Project discovered the horrific truth. I was a victim of modern-day slavery. My associate, whom I was living with, was selling me for sex to fuel his drug dependency. He sent me out to shoplift, beg, and perform sexual favours for money. He sold sexual images of me, and when he went out he would give me heroin and lock me in his garden shed.

Ferry Project eventually learned where I was being kept, so they went to see her. They found me on the floor, sleeping on a mouldy mattress under a pile of old duvets. I was cold, scared and under the influence of heroin. “He told me this was a game,” I said, gesturing to the shed. “But I don’t like this game.”

They offered me a place to stay at their night shelter, but once again I refused. Then, a few nights later, I came to the Ferry Project seeking help. I looked malnourished and was shivering with cold. I asked to stay the night and they were happy to give her a place to stay. However, knowing that she would struggle to share a room with other clients in the night shelter, they set up a private bed for her, with staff on hand nearby to support her. I slept restlessly, screaming and shouting throughout the night.

The following morning I left them again. From then on, I would pop in occasionally for help, but never stayed for long. It wasn’t until winter drew in and the weather grew colder that I finally began to visit us more frequently.

Meanwhile, Ferry Project received some funding which would allow them to house me in Clarkson House, their main hostel. They prepared a private room for me where I could come and go as I needed, and eat three meals a day in a stable environment with my very own dedicated support worker. The trauma I’d experienced made me very suspicious of their support, so before moving in they offered me support sessions, gave me a tour of the room and let me get familiar with the hostel and its surroundings. At last I agreed to move in.

At first I struggled to settle into my new home. Upon moving in I asked for my bed to be removed and refused to have any lights on in my room. My behaviour was unpredictable; I would scream and swear at staff members, then apologise and show appreciation for their help. I refused to engage with any health professionals and wouldn’t take any medication.

But over time, I began to improve. My relationship with my support worker developed. I opened up about the abuse I’d suffered, and began to partake in activities like colouring and baking. I also successfully stopped taking drugs, which was a huge victory that led to me having fewer bad days.

After a few months, social services came to visit me and assess her progress. They told me this was the happiest they had ever seen me. My behaviour was much more stable, I quit smoking and my panic attacks improved. In summer 2022 I joined other clients on a trip to Hunstanton. When I returned I told staff it was the “best day ever”.

At last I engaged with medical professionals, building a relationship with the nurse who visits the Ferry Project. I even got my Covid vaccinations, and after getting the flu jab I was actively encouraging the other clients to do the same.

My bad days are now few and far between. I join in activities with other clients, including making bacon butties and baking cakes. I'm more comfortable cooking for myself and now have the confidence to go shopping. I'm happier than ever, and I often tell them than Ferry Project is my home.

I regularly lets them know how grateful I am to be alive, healthy, and free.

*Name changed for anonymity