[colker]

Originally Posted by berserk87

This has been an interesting thread.

This thread, and Twigg's own plight have re-opened some pretty awful memories for me. I was homeless myself in 1991 for several months. I've been reluctant to comment about it but I'm hoping it might help some of our community see homelessness from maybe another perspective. I'm going to simplify things for the sake of brevity.

I am not nor have I ever been a substance abuser. I was 22 years old, just out of college, with no job and no "Plan B", after my "Plan A" for a career was ruined by a severe injury I had sustained. I had earned a degree that was worth nothing in an of itself, toward having any employable skill. I had no direction, no purpose, and no money. I was frightened of the future and depressed about my lack of a plan for it. I was ignorant about a great many things.

Staying with family was not an option. My family was (and still is) highly dysfunctional, and being on my own was safer that being at home, emotionally speaking. Home was a frightening and dangerous place. It was made clear that I was not welcome at home, and my leaving was a violent and regrettable event.

I stayed with friends, and their families, as long as they could tolerate. I lived out of my car. I stayed in a vacant house under auspicious circumstances (I wasn't supposed to be there). I only had $37 in my pocket when I left home, and I picked up a part time job waiting tables.

Eventually I got a one-bedroom apartment for $195/month in a neighborhood infested with heroin addicts and prostitutes. I barely scraped by for the next year, hopping from low-paying job to low-paying job, mostly part-time, and often 2 to 3 at a time.

I was only homeless for 3 or 4 months. That doesn't seem like a long time, but when you are going through it, and don't see the end of the story, it feels desperate and endless. I had a very hard time during that span imagining how things were going to work out for the good.

I can't speak to anyone else's story. I can't claim to understand homelessness in general, as each story is unique. Mine ended up being the perfect storm of circumstances versus my own vulnerabilities. It was the hardest period I've lived through. It took years to recover from, and in some ways, healthy or not, I'm not sure I fully have.

I rather read this than all the opinions of the world on the internet. Thanks.