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For those who have experienced being homeless

Mondai

Member
How was your experience with it? It’s just something I’m always interesting in learning about since I was really close to being homeless a few years ago.
 

Davesky

Member
You can’t look forward or make any long term goals because you don’t know where your going to be living, it’s a bit like being trapped inside a bubble away from society for a period of time.

Police and services also look down on you and treat you with contempt. For example, on a Friday night you would always see a police car driving past back and forward or parking near the unit, or if you are stopped for some reason and realise you live in a homeless unit or temporary accommodation it’s an immediate fine or attempted arrest. If a woman becomes pregnant services will usually try to take steps to remove the unborn child, it can almost become like a sadistic game for the unborn mother to have to jump through hoops to hold on to the child and causing a lot of unnecessary stress.

Worst of all, you don’t have any privacy. Housing officers write reports about you weekly which is kept on file for the rest of your life. You don’t have a say or get to know what is being written about you.. Did you get into an argument with the flakey crazy person across the hall that was in no your fault? Staff can very easily write bullshit concerns about you, toxic behaviour etc and you will never find out, but you bet your social worker or police will if you ever have to get involved with them. You also get your room checked and looked through like you are a child and nearly always will be a curfew at around 10pm.

You are slowly coerced and forced to start socialising with what is very commonly the dregs of society, people you would never give any time of day before. You slowly lower your standards and self-worth over time. Worst experience of my life but still glad I’ve gone through it.
 

Ownage

Member
You can’t look forward or make any long term goals because you don’t know where your going to be living, it’s a bit like being trapped inside a bubble away from society for a period of time.

Police and services also look down on you and treat you with contempt. For example, on a Friday night you would always see a police car driving past back and forward or parking near the unit, or if you are stopped for some reason and realise you live in a homeless unit or temporary accommodation it’s an immediate fine or attempted arrest. If a woman becomes pregnant services will usually try to take steps to remove the unborn child, it can almost become like a sadistic game for the unborn mother to have to jump through hoops to hold on to the child and causing a lot of unnecessary stress.

Worst of all, you don’t have any privacy. Housing officers write reports about you weekly which is kept on file for the rest of your life. You don’t have a say or get to know what is being written about you.. Did you get into an argument with the flakey crazy person across the hall that was in no your fault? Staff can very easily write bullshit concerns about you, toxic behaviour etc and you will never find out, but you bet your social worker or police will if you ever have to get involved with them. You also get your room checked and looked through like you are a child and nearly always will be a curfew at around 10pm.

You are slowly coerced and forced to start socialising with what is very commonly the dregs of society, people you would never give any time of day before. You slowly lower your standards and self-worth over time. Worst experience of my life but still glad I’ve gone through it.
Thanks for sharing. I'm so sorry you went through it. Respect for climbing up, and for those who struggle.
 

TheInfamousKira

Reseterror Resettler
It fucking blows. I spent a spell homeless in Louisiana, spending my day baking in a parking lot and hitting various public places with public outlets to keep my phone charged, then sleeping out in the wooded shitty embankments on either side of the train tracks that cut the town in half. Sleep out there amounted to laying on my back and staring at the sky for a couple of hours and maybe nodding off, but mostly too concerned about wild animals, cops, other people, and you know...trains, to get relaxed enough for it.

I second the you can't make any plans beyond that night, if you've REALLY got your shit together that day. I'd work a closing shift at the shit restaurant I worked at, get out around 11:30 and sit there in the parking lot while all the lights went out and my coworkers all went home, until I had the fortitude to go find a place to sleep. I remember there was a super shitty storm blowing through the week I lost my place, it was raining so hard you could barely see your hand in front of your face, and I was on foot, so I had to walk ~3 miles on a main road to get to my job, and the water was knee level in some places, because Louisiana has roads that are...something else. I make it to work, soaked to the bone. Like slopping noises with every step I take. Take out my phone. Completely and thoroughly fucked. I work that entire shift in those clothes, leave, and resume super fun time.

It has it's peaks and valleys. Like, obviously wouldn't recommend it, but it teaches you how fucking hopelessly beholden you are to people and systems and society, while at the same time, you get a touch of a dopamine hit every morning with the crisp air and Sunrise and the idea that you foraged through another day. It tests your character, for sure.
 

Cyberpunkd

Member
If a woman becomes pregnant services will usually try to take steps to remove the unborn child, it can almost become like a sadistic game for the unborn mother to have to jump through hoops to hold on to the child and causing a lot of unnecessary stress.
I would say if you are homeless smashing should be really low on your priorities list.
 
How was your experience with it? It’s just something I’m always interesting in learning about since I was really close to being homeless a few years ago.


It was a double edged sword. On one hand i found a certain sense of freedom and time. It is however a tiny nick in the side of one edge.

There was a defiant query of hope mixed in with complete and utter hopelessness. I will remember clear as day...walking from a friends house, she allowed me to stay in her car for the night.Her roommate was a devout religious woman that wanted me out of there....so that night, i repacked my belongings, put my cat back in his bag, and walked from El Segundo to Venice beach, Along the way my cat pissed in his bag and it rolled down my shoe. So there i am trudging with a rolling bag, a backpack with a very old laptop and a damp shoe and a bag i did my best to clean in the park whilst on the way passing by a certain studio..1 am, its lights large on the tall building spelling its name. I just remember thinking, well, i have nothing now..i will somehow work for them one day....somehow...ill do something. There you are of course, without the skill or knowhow and now with no home to even go to. So its no different from when i did work full time and live somewhere...except a traded time for comfort and complacency. Hope and hopelessness.

I would keep very clean, when i could cop a shower i did....homeless people continued to ask me for money, which i always felt good about. There is this feeling you dont have, that feeling of wamth when you are tired, that you can just rest your head and not worry and sleep. Thats gone, its just this strange expectation when the sun goes down...you were outside all day and its time to now sleep..but that place you return to doesnt exist...its so disconcerting..like something is missing.

I can explain how it feels i guess by relating a story. One night i wandered up to Santa Monica, because i was keeping myself awake for sometimes 3-4 days straight. I was afraid to sleep at night. During the day i would take short ten minute bursts, but really always i would feel sick from lack of sleep. I wouldnt do shelters, not only because it was LA, but because mearly going to one i felt would put me in this class of people that would be in that shelter ten years still down the line. I felt i had to separate myself from it all. That may sound harsh but i knew i had to do that. So there i was in Santa Monica at night because i thought it would be safe to sleep on the boardwalk area....so many tourists..i always wondered why homeless people stick in the worst areas. As i sat on the bench i think i realized why, one by one these happy smiling people, friends, couples hand in hand, beautiful women...like little sparkling lights that seemed to wash away in the night and i felt like i was being drawn into a very dark place. They became unreachable and unattainable like each light just fading into nothingness. I remember a homeless old guy slowly sauntering up to me...he had been talking to himself, saying things out loud. he turned to me and in a low whisper...he just casually asks...you going uptown tonight, i forget the specifics but he mentioned a shelter. It felt like a mask lifted on the guy but it also felt like i had been pulled down into this world i didnt want to be in....i had to get out of there....so i walked down to the beach with all my stuff. It was freezing so finally i just walked all the way back to Venice. I never slept that night either.

I was homeless for maybe 6 months, some of that time i got some help from a friend but mostly i just had to figure out how i was going to get from where i was to where i am now but thats a bit of a story. At any rate , i am not homeless anymore...and i did end up working for that company.
 
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NecrosaroIII

Ultimate DQ Fan
The downward spiral was worse than the homeless imho.

It was back in 2001 when it happened to me. I was a suburban 14 year old when my world went to shit.

My grandma died that summer, triggering a midlife crisis for my dad. He started shooting cocaine. Every two weeks he'd disappear for hours to get high. My mom found out about it and they'd fight. But them one day he talked her into using too. That's when things really went to shit

By spring 2002, they had both pissed away their careers, our savings, our cars and then our mortage. We tried renting a trailer in the opposite side of town (the white trash side), but that lasted only about 2 or 3 months. By the summer we were out on our asses.

On the bright side, I took refuge in school. I went from a D student to an A/B student because I had nothing to do, and because doing homework took my mind off things. My sister dropped out of school to work jobs to pay to stay at a shitty motel. Bless her soul. It sucked, but it was better than being outside. On the weekends, I'd stay at my best friends house. I dont think his parents knew exactly what was happening, but I think they had a good idea. They gave me a safe place where I could be a kid.

After about a year or so of that l, I made contact with my aunt online. Told her what was happening. She got in touch with my dad and they came up with a plan to get us on our feet. She sent us money to pay for a cheap car to move down to California and set us up to live in her friend's guest house. My parents were able to clean up, get new jobs and eventually things turned out okay. But that two years haunt me. I don't think I ever was the same after that.

My only possession was my copy of Lord of the Rings. I thing I read that copy ablut 5 or 6 times that year. It's themes of hope really hit hard that year
 
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Winter John

Member
Yeah. I couch surfed for a while. It was ok I guess. It was summer so I'd take the train out to the shore and sleep on the beach. I'm glad it wasn't winter time. That would have sucked. You want to know something fucked up? I was stealing cars and selling them to this asshole who was kind of connected. One night I drove up to one of his shops and there were these 3 scumbags who I knew from the neighborhood were part of the Gambino crew. Anyways we were talking and one of those dickheads turns round and says you know it's a real shame your homeless now. We coulda used you but we don't associate with bums. I still get a laugh out of that.
 

Darchaos

Member
Amazing to read the storys here so far! And you are here to be able to tell them, that is just unreal, im so happy that you guys seems to be ok!
 

Winter John

Member
Amazing to read the storys here so far! And you are here to be able to tell them, that is just unreal, im so happy that you guys seems to be ok!
You want to know what fucks me off? Every other week I volunteer at the local soup kitchen. At one time I thought about buying up the premises next door and helping them expand it into a centre with showers and just basic shit like a laundry so guys could wash up and feel like humans again. You would not believe the amount of red tape and bullshit it would have taken to do it. I'm sorry to say I got so frustrated with it all I gave up on it
 

Darchaos

Member
You want to know what fucks me off? Every other week I volunteer at the local soup kitchen. At one time I thought about buying up the premises next door and helping them expand it into a centre with showers and just basic shit like a laundry so guys could wash up and feel like humans again. You would not believe the amount of red tape and bullshit it would have taken to do it. I'm sorry to say I got so frustrated with it all I gave up on it
Yeah i understand you, its hard to even imagine something as simpel as getting out of bed and go into a shower not beeing a thing. We have a couple of homeless people in my small town in Sweden, but they atleast have somewhere to go every night to sleep and just take a shower, we take atleast take somewhat care of them.
 

nosockson

Neo Member
I suffered from severe anxiety and agoraphobia for seven years, during which time I went to great lengths to avoid human contact. I lived with my grandmother and I could count on one hand the number of times I left the house in those seven years. When my grandmother died of heart failure, I was immediately evicted by my uncle and left homeless.

I had around $2000 in savings and the first thing I did was buy a bus ticket to Boston. It was a city I was familiar with (I attended college there before dropping out due to the anxiety) and I believed they would have good services for the homeless, at least compared to the small town I lived in with my grandmother, where those services were basically nonexistent.

For the first few days, I stayed in a Motel 6, but realized how quickly my savings would be depleted. I paid for a small storage unit to keep the two suitcases that contained all my earthly possessions and then I checked out of the motel and headed to a homeless shelter. I remember my first night staying there, crammed into a room full of bunk beds with one hundred men. It was difficult to sleep with all the coughing and snoring.

On my second night at the shelter, a man threatened to kill me because I accidentally took his bed. We were assigned beds by ticket number and in the dark it was difficult to read the numbers painted onto the concrete floor. A staff member intervened but I was shaken by this experience and did not want to return to the shelter.

The next night I found a loading dock behind a grocery store near my storage facility. There was an obscured spot behind a semi trailer where I was unlikely to be discovered. A flock of pigeons had taken residency in the overhang, so the pavement was covered in shit and feathers. I put down some old clothes from one of my suitcases, and laid down in my winter coat, covering myself with some sweaters. This was November in Boston, so it was already in the low 40s and the loading dock created a wind tunnel. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep and that was the first and last night I spent outside. I returned to the shelter the next day.

I’m realizing this story is going to be way too long if I continue in such detail, so here is the abridged version: I spent my nights at the shelter, and my days at the library applying for jobs. I found a retail job as a cashier within a month. Never told them I was homeless but I’m surprised they hired me when during the interview my anxiety had me physically trembling and I clearly possessed zero social skills.

The shelter ran a program for employed men, which provided me with a small living area within the shelter, with my own bed, nightstand, and dresser. We also had access to a shared kitchen and showers. We were required to save a set amount of money per month to remain in the program. I was partnered with a social worker to help me find a subsidized apartment.

Seven months later, I moved into my own studio apartment, where I still live to this day. I’m now the assistant manager at my store and while I continue to struggle with anxiety, I am proud to be a functioning member of society. I can say that becoming homeless was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I only wish it happened sooner before I wasted seven years of my life. Had I not lost my grandmother (god rest her soul, she was an incredible woman), I’m certain I would still be wasting away in my room to this very day.
 

Mondai

Member
I suffered from severe anxiety and agoraphobia for seven years, during which time I went to great lengths to avoid human contact. I lived with my grandmother and I could count on one hand the number of times I left the house in those seven years. When my grandmother died of heart failure, I was immediately evicted by my uncle and left homeless.

I had around $2000 in savings and the first thing I did was buy a bus ticket to Boston. It was a city I was familiar with (I attended college there before dropping out due to the anxiety) and I believed they would have good services for the homeless, at least compared to the small town I lived in with my grandmother, where those services were basically nonexistent.

For the first few days, I stayed in a Motel 6, but realized how quickly my savings would be depleted. I paid for a small storage unit to keep the two suitcases that contained all my earthly possessions and then I checked out of the motel and headed to a homeless shelter. I remember my first night staying there, crammed into a room full of bunk beds with one hundred men. It was difficult to sleep with all the coughing and snoring.

On my second night at the shelter, a man threatened to kill me because I accidentally took his bed. We were assigned beds by ticket number and in the dark it was difficult to read the numbers painted onto the concrete floor. A staff member intervened but I was shaken by this experience and did not want to return to the shelter.

The next night I found a loading dock behind a grocery store near my storage facility. There was an obscured spot behind a semi trailer where I was unlikely to be discovered. A flock of pigeons had taken residency in the overhang, so the pavement was covered in shit and feathers. I put down some old clothes from one of my suitcases, and laid down in my winter coat, covering myself with some sweaters. This was November in Boston, so it was already in the low 40s and the loading dock created a wind tunnel. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep and that was the first and last night I spent outside. I returned to the shelter the next day.

I’m realizing this story is going to be way too long if I continue in such detail, so here is the abridged version: I spent my nights at the shelter, and my days at the library applying for jobs. I found a retail job as a cashier within a month. Never told them I was homeless but I’m surprised they hired me when during the interview my anxiety had me physically trembling and I clearly possessed zero social skills.

The shelter ran a program for employed men, which provided me with a small living area within the shelter, with my own bed, nightstand, and dresser. We also had access to a shared kitchen and showers. We were required to save a set amount of money per month to remain in the program. I was partnered with a social worker to help me find a subsidized apartment.

Seven months later, I moved into my own studio apartment, where I still live to this day. I’m now the assistant manager at my store and while I continue to struggle with anxiety, I am proud to be a functioning member of society. I can say that becoming homeless was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I only wish it happened sooner before I wasted seven years of my life. Had I not lost my grandmother (god rest her soul, she was an incredible woman), I’m certain I would still be wasting away in my room to this very day.
Thank you for sharing.
 

TuxedoSammy

Banned
You can’t look forward or make any long term goals because you don’t know where your going to be living, it’s a bit like being trapped inside a bubble away from society for a period of time.

Police and services also look down on you and treat you with contempt. For example, on a Friday night you would always see a police car driving past back and forward or parking near the unit, or if you are stopped for some reason and realise you live in a homeless unit or temporary accommodation it’s an immediate fine or attempted arrest. If a woman becomes pregnant services will usually try to take steps to remove the unborn child, it can almost become like a sadistic game for the unborn mother to have to jump through hoops to hold on to the child and causing a lot of unnecessary stress.

Worst of all, you don’t have any privacy. Housing officers write reports about you weekly which is kept on file for the rest of your life. You don’t have a say or get to know what is being written about you.. Did you get into an argument with the flakey crazy person across the hall that was in no your fault? Staff can very easily write bullshit concerns about you, toxic behaviour etc and you will never find out, but you bet your social worker or police will if you ever have to get involved with them. You also get your room checked and looked through like you are a child and nearly always will be a curfew at around 10pm.

You are slowly coerced and forced to start socialising with what is very commonly the dregs of society, people you would never give any time of day before. You slowly lower your standards and self-worth over time. Worst experience of my life but still glad I’ve gone through it.
I'm so sorry to hear what you've endured. :>( I feel we should all experience at least some sort of simulation of homelessness to be more empathetic, but people would probably soon forget anyway and go back to the usual social hierarchy. Regardless, you've probably acquired emotional intelligence and depth one cannot so easily acquire without such tribulations, as well as perseverance, and that's a valuable human characteristic.
 
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