jamie wrote:There are all kinds of scumbags in the world, but we have to go out there and navigate the place all the same. At the same time, much of it is just traumatized people doing the only thing they understand.
Hey Jamie. I hope i haven't given the impression that i feel either buffeted by the waves of reality OR that i can somehow change it. I approach life neither as a victim nor a manipulator, but am just trying to manage it to the best of my ability to move closer to what i envision as the best version of myself, with all my history and experience intact.
That said, i intended to post to this thread to update this continuing saga. Through the local entheogen community here, I've met people that share my world view that are in positions to help and I've availed myself of that, to my extreme gratitude and hopefully great benefit.
Through one of those connections, and without whom I'd never have even known about let alone access, I just moved into a respite home. This is a (how do i put it) "lightly-institutionalized" home where people in crisis can go to, well, get respite. I'm not being made to take meds, but just have access to regular meals, rest, bathroom and shower facilities, laundry, a internet connection and phone. In other words, respite from the full time hustle for basic needs that homelessness is. I've been unable to process anything that's happened really, since i don't want to break down or cry in public and that's where i always am, on disply. I really think that distance from basic human needs is the invisible wall nobody really sees that keeps most of us out there on the street and that drives many totally insane.
Seriously, think about this: from the second one wakes up and has to meet the need of taking a morning crap, with the only public bathroom available being located within a Starbucks that requires a purchase to use. If i don't wake up with two bucks in my pocket... Well it isn't fun. The hustle goes on through the day and doesn't end until whatever time one can get back to their spot and find out if their sleeping bag is still there or has been vandalized or not. If it's all good, then one can lay down with one ear and one eye open on the lookout for pigs, drunks and tweakers, all of whom get off on screwing with the homeless. So yeah man, how do you think it feels to hear "get a job, you're arms look fine to me", or "pull yourself up by the bootstraps". What i hear is, "go perform an impossible action", and that somehow fills me with shame to know i can't do it. People don't give a crap. I know a guy who had kerosene poured on him and lit while he slept. By kids. The only thing that saved him was the six layers of sweaters and hoodies that kept him warm. It sucks, man, it kills souls, destroys people and is unnecessary in this kkkountry.
So, yeah, I've been inside for two nights now, been eating solid for a couple weeks, free of meds, and now can focus on the things that i have needed to do for some time but literally been too exhausted, paralyzed and depressed to do and too ashamed to ask for help with. My insurance will pay for up to a month, and by the end of that time i hope to have a primary care doctor, and begin making the appointments to correct the cataract blindness in my left eye, set up a start to therapy with the person I've been referred to, develop an income source so i can be assured of being able to pay rent, and finally, have a place to go once i leave. That to me, is helping myself, and i couldn't do it without this simple hand up I'm receiving.
I'm very glad i found this place, the housemates i currently have are, as i said all dealing with stuff, but that just helps me work on developing empathy and compassion, as well as exercising establishing boundaries, in other words it allows me to practice. There are also not pushing meds on me in any way, and as long as I'm using the time to my benefit,i don't have to pretend to be in more crisis than i am to be able to stay.
The universe provides. I'm only posting all this deeply personal stuff because i know I'm not the only one who struggles with mental health. I want people to know that healing can happen.We are not our diagnoses. According to commonly held belief in the drug treatment community, i suffer from an 'incurable, progressive, terminal disease'. A magic illness i never caught that affects nothing but behavior. In other words, what I'm doing is akin to having cured myself of cancer just by thinking about it to these people. I have just gone through one of if not the biggest crisis of my life and nowhere in that period of time did i consider injecting heroin to ameliorate the pain, confusion, fear, anxiety and terror i was experiencing at any given time. That way of thinking needs to change. That kills people outright.
They are lying to you, you can be healed. May you all find peace, and lift from your shoulders that which holds you down. Love and be Free!
Sine experientia nihil sufficienter sciri potest -Roger Bacon
*γνῶθι σεαυτόν*