Danielle will always remember the friends who let her sleep on their couch and in their spare room when she had nowhere else to go.
"You can always judge your friends by how well they treat you when you are homeless," she said.
Three decades ago, she was in and out of hospital receiving mental health treatment for schizophrenia.
"Having nowhere to go after hospitalisation … that's one of the difficulties I faced," she said.
"You just feel nothing, you've got nowhere to go, you don't really have the ability or the finance to feel anything, so it's nothingness."
The disability royal commission has heard stories like Danielle's at a five-day hearing at Parramatta, examining poverty and homelessness for people with disability.
Now 51 years old, Danielle has not required hospital treatment for her schizophrenia for 22 years and she has housing stability.
"Thank heavens that I wasn't homeless for a long period of time," she said.
"You're homeless and mentally ill, which is double the stigma."
The royal commission heard that 116,000 people experienced homelessness in Australia on the 2016 Census night.
Data showed that 10,200 people living with severe or profound disability experienced some form of homelessness during that year.
The inquiry was told comparable figures from the 2021 Census were not available yet.
The hearing was told people with disability had a greater need for affordable and accessible housing, as they were often excluded from employment and relied on the disability support pension (DSP).
Research conducted for the inquiry found less than 1 per cent of rental properties in Australia were affordable to people on the DSP, and people with a disability were waiting years for accessible social housing.
'I've got no support'
The royal commission also heard from 'Colin', who said his life had been in limbo since he was dramatically rescued from the Lismore floods in February.
Colin, who lives with muscular dystrophy and uses a wheelchair, is on the DSP and has been a participant in the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) since 2021.
The 58-year-old gave evidence about what he described as "constantly moving from one temporary accommodation form to another".
At the time of the floods, Colin was living with his sister, who also lives with muscular dystrophy and uses a CPAP machine to keep her airway open.
He told the inquiry he phoned the SES "heaps of times" without success, before eventually getting through to triple-0, who told him to get his sister onto the roof, something he could not do because of her wheelchair.
Instead, he put his sister on the kitchen bench with her feet "in the cutlery drawer" to keep out of the water, and her CPAP machine on top of the microwave to keep it dry.
He became emotional as he told the inquiry they thought they were going to die, as nobody arrived to help, despite his many calls to emergency services.
The pair were eventually rescued by a "bloke in a tinny", after he called his niece for help.
He described the six weeks after the flood as a blur.
Colin has moved between temporary accommodation in Tweed Heads, Ballina, Evans Head and is now living at Lennox Head.
"I've got no support … I've got nothing," Colin said.
He said he had been on the phone "begging in tears for help" from his NDIS support coordinator.
Colin said living on the DSP meant there was "absolutely nowhere" on the private rental market he could afford.
The inquiry heard there was no "medium- or long-term accommodation on the horizon".
While he was on the waiting list for an emergency pod, Colin was told there were no facilities for people with "special needs".
'Not a very nice feeling'
Also giving evidence to the inquiry was Nik Moorhouse, who spoke to the ABC earlier this year about the struggle to find affordable housing in the Newcastle area after being evicted from their private rental.
Nik, 45, lives with the neurological disorder, visual snow syndrome, and is legally blind.
They told the inquiry about "challenging" dealings with the Department of Housing, where some people were "lovely" but others were "rude and offhand".
“You’re sort of treated a little bit like you’re a criminal, like you have done something wrong and that perhaps you don’t deserve to be treated with respect,” Nik said.
"It’s not a very nice feeling."
After being evicted, Nik — who has two autistic daughters — knocked back the first house offered to them as the bathroom was not accessible.
They later secured a suitable home from the Department of Housing but told the inquiry they feared they “could just fall off the cliff into poverty”.
"I think there is a poverty trap around being on Centrelink," Nik said.
"Particularly being in a house provided by the Department of Housing and a concern for me is that I won’t be able to get myself out of it."
The inquiry was told that the prospect of having to go into crisis accommodation had created an "extremely stressful" situation for Nik and exacerbated their disability.
Support takes years of work
Back in Sydney, Danielle has not just relied on friends to get her through.
She has been a visitor to the Wayside Chapel and its services for three decades.
The chapel's pastor and chief executive, Jon Owen, said the impact of homelessness on people's mental health was immeasurable.
"Sleeping on the street is an anxiety-producing experience," Mr Owen said.
The charity assists people who live on and around the streets of Sydney’s eastern suburbs.
Mr Owen said he hoped the disability royal commission acknowledged there was no "quick fix" to homelessness.
He estimated more than 80 per cent of Wayside's visitors lived with mental health issues.
"The amount of support required to work with someone with disabilities from homelessness or insecure housing to secure housing is years and years of work," Mr Owen said.
With the Wayside Chapel's help, Danielle was able to receive the DSP, become an NDIS participant and has secure accommodation.
"I feel lucky. I'm still feeling lucky because I was given support when I needed it," she said.
Danielle was also supported to gain a fine arts degree and has found "freedom" in stability.
"You wake up every morning blessing the ground you wake up on," she said.
