For the last two years, Glen has been housebound, living in a cramped basement flat with his mother Christine.
A series of traumatic events in quick succession shattered both of their worlds and Glen’s mental health declined, exacerbated by his autism and the isolation of the pandemic. He became depressed and put on weight to the point where he’s now unable to leave the flat without help.
Christine is his full-time carer, but is herself disabled. She’s been fighting for years to get them moved to more accessible housing and for Glen to get the support he needs to live independently.
In September 2022 Christine dropped me an email. She’d come across South London Stories and wanted to find a way to write about their situation. We had a couple of chats on the phone, met for coffee and then the three of us sat down to sketch out how it could work.
It became clear very quickly that Christine and Glen were the best people to tell their own story. So, using a workshop format, we worked together over the following months, meeting every few weeks. I offered guidance and feedback – but this story is theirs, and all the words and pictures belong to Christine and Glen.
Glen: This is my view, every day.
From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall sleep, this is what I see. I’ve been in this room for the last two years and I’ve been sleeping in this chair since October.
I leave it to go to the toilet, but that’s it. The only way I leave the house is in an ambulance.
I used to love swimming before Covid – it’s a wonderful feeling to float. Now I can’t even use a shower.
Christine: I’m his mother, but also his carer. It’s difficult trying to be both.
We’ve always had each other’s backs. He’s my pillar of strength. I feel like a billionaire when he makes me feel special and I always try to make him smile if he’s feeling low.
Sometimes, though, I feel tired. I wish I could just get these people to do what they’re supposed to do. For Glen – but also to support me. I always seem to end up doing everything. Sometimes, I just want some time to myself.
Glen: This is probably my favourite recent photo of myself. I prefer it in black and white because it helps hide that I’m unwell.
I worry about my friends seeing me differently. They know some of my story but there’s a lot they don’t know about what’s happening at the moment.
I hope this is rock bottom – I don’t want to go any lower. Since Covid, the last two years have been hell on earth. I’m hoping that in 2023 the third year’s the charm.
Christine: These are the creams, wipes, bandages, straps and cotton wool to dress Glen’s legs. They’re swollen and he gets sores. For a long time I had to do this myself, but I kicked up a fuss and now the nurses come more regularly.
I have to plan everything. I have to ensure everything is sorted for Glen first and then for my mobility. When I make social plans, I often have to cancel. Right now Glen’s needs are greater than mine – but it might also be because my wheelchair has run out of charge, or just because I’m exhausted.
Glen: This is a photo of my dog Pixel. She was a beautiful Jack Russell and she was my best friend. It was when I lost her that I started to go downhill.
She had pancreatitis and eventually we had to put her to sleep.
Christine: Not long after, we lost Glen’s dad Tony and that was devastating for both of us.
Glen: We got this in a special delivery last Christmas. We weren’t expecting it, but it felt serendipitous – he loved chocolate, so it reminded us of him and made me smile. After a lot of grief, it was a nice moment.
Christine: The other night, Glen was napping and I was in the kitchen making coffee. I went to the bedroom and had a flashback of everything we’ve lost and realised how low I feel.
Glen and I are always together and he’s my world – but I still feel lonely sometimes now that Tony’s gone.
Glen: Before all this, I used to wrestle.I was introduced to it by my uncle when I was about five years old. I’d watch his old video tapes on the sofa at my nan’s place.
When I was older, I got bullied – so when I saw all these big guys taking a punch and being able to fight back I thought, I want to be able to do that.
My friend and I found a place in Essex and we decided to take the plunge. I was 17 and I did it for about two years there. I did lots of training, but I didn’t do shows until I was 21. I finally made my debut in Croydon in 2014. It took a long time!
Glen: The first time I was in the ring I was nervous – our storyline was some sort of cult church thing. It felt weird. I thought, “Wait, I’m doing this thing I saw people doing on TV. I’m one of you now!”
It gave me confidence and made me focus on my health. I was an overweight kid and wasn’t naturally athletic but wrestling helped me go beyond my physical limitations.
I last wrestled in 2019 – Covid stopped it dead in its tracks. I couldn’t train so I focused on my personal life, but then my dog died, my dad died and I broke up with my ex. Everything just spiralled.
Christine: My passion is creativity – it’s like therapy for me. I get into my own little world and it brings out a side of me that wants to make beautiful things.
When you’re enjoying being creative, you put love into it. When it’s just escapism, it can be harder. As a young girl I didn’t have much to play with, but we had candles and I’d melt them to make things with.
We’ve always encouraged each other with our interests. It’s not mollycoddling, we just really care about each other, and we support each other on our journeys.
Glen: This was us at my 23rd birthday party in Croydon, so 10 years ago now.
It was also my friend Chris’ birthday and I met my good friend Rachael for the first time that evening.
Christine: It was a great night. Everyone was celebrating Glen and it felt like one big happy family. It was the same with the wrestling, we’d all go for a meal or a drink afterwards.
Glen: Looking at this photo, it makes me wish I had a time machine – if I knew then what I know now I’d do a few things very differently.
It does make me want to be social again, but my main goal for now is to focus on my health – it’s a personal battle. I want to lose as much weight as possible and I want to give myself an advantage. I want to be more healthy than I was, more prepared than I was, so if I run out of ammo I’ve still got backup.
How am I going to get there? It’s a team effort. I need my mum by my side. She’s just as motivated as I am.
Christine: I am the boot camp. I’m the only one in his life that will make him do it.
Christine: Health is the top priority, but he also needs to have his own place and to see his friends. I need my own place too – somewhere nearby.
That’s what I’ve been fighting for, for years now. The council have finally accepted that our flat isn’t fit for habitation, but they haven’t offered us an alternative.
One day, I’d like to do community based work around mindful and intuitive arts, helping people with their anxiety. I have my certificates now, so I can teach.
I want my own space where I can set up my studio, my creative place. I want a proper home with a sitting room where I can invite people round.
Glen: It’s the same with me. I know what I’d want from my place. I want my gaming room – the typical male thing! But it’s not just for me. I want to be able to have friends round, but also to get back out there, to regain a social life, to reconnect with the outside world.
Until then, mum will keep fighting for me. She never gives up. And I’m grateful for every moment we have together.
She’s always been there for me and I know that won’t change.
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