As we work to highlight the importance of the Housing Support Grant, Kirsty shares this honest and compelling look into the realities of what it actually takes to support people facing a crisis.

Working as a Service Manager within a housing support grant–funded supported housing provision means operating in a constant state of high alert. This is not a role characterised by occasional pressure; it is one defined by sustained exposure to crisis, trauma, and life-or-death decision-making. 

A significant part of the role involves responding to acute distress—waiting for the door to knock, managing emergency calls, or supporting staff who are attempting to keep someone safe while emergency services are being contacted. This level of responsibility places staff in a prolonged state of heightened stress, where high cortisol levels are not the exception but the norm. The question we increasingly ask is not whether this is demanding work, but how long it is physically and psychologically sustainable for individuals and teams to function in this way. 

Both I and the majority of my team have been exposed to situations that no amount of training can fully prepare a person for. We routinely encounter overwhelming, unpredictable, and traumatic events as a direct result of systemic gaps and broken pathways. These experiences do not end when a shift finishes. They are carried, compartmentalised, and often resurface unexpectedly even long after the incident has passed, which shows the cumulative psychological impact of this work. 

Despite this, staff remain in these roles because of a genuine commitment to the people we support. Many individuals referred into housing support grant services are those for whom other services have closed their doors—often because they do not meet narrow thresholds or fit within rigid systems. Supported housing becomes the last safety net, absorbing risk that has been displaced elsewhere. 

Since the Covid-19 pandemic, referral numbers have increased dramatically, tripling year on year. Demand has escalated at pace, yet resources, staffing, and move-on options have not increased in parallel. Individuals can wait up to a year for accommodation, if they are fortunate enough to be accepted at all. During this time, some remain homeless, including sleeping in tents in freezing conditions. 

At the same time, projects are housing individuals who no longer require supported accommodation but are unable to move on due to a severe lack of one-bedroom social housing. This creates a system where people become stuck—not through choice, but through the absence of viable move-on pathways—while new referrals in acute need continue to arrive. Staff are then placed in the impossible position of witnessing severe need while being unable to respond due to capacity constraints beyond their control. 

Despite the complexity and severity of the situations managed within supported housing services, staff working in these roles are often not formally recognised as professionals in the same way as their counterparts within statutory services. Case workers and managers are routinely expected to assess and respond to high-risk situations involving acute mental distress, self-harm, safeguarding concerns, substance misuse, and life-threatening crises.  

This work requires advanced judgement, emotional intelligence, and risk management skills, yet the roles are frequently graded and remunerated significantly below comparable positions within local authority settings. The disparity between responsibility and pay not only undervalues the expertise required to deliver this work safely, but also contributes to recruitment and retention challenges, increased turnover, and loss of experienced staff. Ultimately, this creates further instability within services and places additional pressure on remaining teams, despite the level of complexity being equivalent to, or in some cases exceeding, that of better-paid statutory roles.                             

The emotional toll of this environment is profound. Since I have been in post, four individuals connected to the service have passed away. Each death brings significant psychological impact, not only in grief but in the inevitable questioning: Did we do enough? Did we advocate strongly enough? Did we bring hope where we could? These questions stay with staff long after the event, contributing to cumulative trauma and moral injury. 

Within the supported housing setting itself, staff are frequently required to manage multiple crises simultaneously. There are occasions where two members of staff are supporting three individuals expressing thoughts of self-harm or suicide at the same time. These are not exceptional circumstances; they are becoming increasingly common. No amount of resilience or professionalism can remove the ethical and emotional weight of deciding who to prioritise in moments like these. 

This is the daily reality of managing a housing support grant–funded supported housing service. The current system relies heavily on the goodwill, compassion, and emotional labour of staff to compensate for structural shortfalls in housing supply, mental health provision, and crisis response. While staff continue to show extraordinary commitment, there are clear limits to what individuals and services can absorb without significant risk to staff wellbeing, service sustainability, and ultimately, the safety of those we support. 

Without meaningful investment in capacity, move-on options, and trauma-informed support for frontline teams, the current model is not sustainable. That risk is already being lived every day within services like ours. 

If your life has been affected by these issues, or supported by these services, consider contacting your Senedd representative and asking them to prioritise the Housing Support Grant. You can find out how to do that here: https://senedd.wales/find-a-member-of-the-senedd/

You can find out more about HSG here: https://www.cymorthcymru.org.uk/home-matters-report-calls-for-increase-in-homelessness-and-housing-support-funding/