Homeless. What Do I Know? Final Part #3

Laughter. 

That’s it. 

That’s the secret.

Life is and will continue to be HARD and pain will always be present somewhere. There will be many, many times you will want to quit.

Break down. Yell. Scream. Pound the floor. Cry in the shower. Reflect. Mend. Grow. Eat that delicious piece of cake. But don’t give up.

OH yeah and laugh. Laugh as much as you can even if it makes you sound hysterical. Life is filled with so much all the time that taking a break is necessary. Do something that feels good.  Laughter is one of those things that can lift you up even if it is just for a few seconds. It’s sort of like that feeling when you change into sweatpants or when you’ve been holding your pee for a long time and you finally get to go.  It’s the temporary ice pack for the bruises of life.  That is how we have survived. That is how we are surviving, well that and chocolate cake, of course. I often make jokes about my situation and most of my friends, shockingly, don’t know in which way to respond. It gets awkward sometimes, well most times, like sip your water a little too long to pass this awkward silence kinda thing. 

I was walking with a friend after church the other day and as brilliant as I know my friends to be this particular line was so perfect my heart did a double back flip. He said, "That's funny, in a sad truth kind of way" and I non-nonchalantly responded with "You gotta laugh at your sad truths sometimes" even though inside I was jumping up and down and screaming with relief because YES! YES! YOU GET IT!! I had been telling my other friend Lori just that a week before! I told her how I make jokes about my sad truths and how I wish people would just laugh with me when I make them. I know it must make my friends uneasy because they care about me and know I'm struggling but lets for a second think of how uneasy it makes ME to actually be in it.To be living it. These sad truths I laugh at are my reality and they pain me too, a lot so I laugh because it hurts and because I'm tired of crying and wanting to cry. I laugh because I'm tired of complaining and I'm even tired of being tired!

 Can this all go away now? Can the happy ending happen already?! Can all our prayers get answered and in return my faith in the divine grow bigger than a stinkin mustard seed already?! I want things to get better just like I'm sure my friends also do but they aren't. I would love to say that because this series is ending that so will this episode of our lives. I would love to say that we are going to be in a home soon and we are somewhat financially stable now but I can't and I probably won't. I wish things were getting better or that we had a better plan of how to get up on our feet and going again but I can't and it pains me like you could only imagine. We feel stuck. So. So. Stuck. The frustration that erupts in me when I think of our situation and the things that aren't happening to make it better. OH God help me! The me of so little faith. 

I use to tell myself that maybe I needed to be more grateful for what we do have in order to be happier with what we get, when we get it but thats not it. Although, I truly believe that I carry myself with an attitude of gratitude more so now than I ever have before which is fantastic but I no longer believe God kept an innocent 10 year old girl from a home because I wasn't giving enough thanks. What twisted idea of God did I have in my head that would make me in believe in that?? 

So I laugh. To keep myself sane. To keep my family sane. To create courage. To continue with faith. To feel good. To win at life for a while. To discourage complaint. To deal with pain. To love more.

To send out positive energy. And because I'm confused and lost and a bit tired.

I continue thinking of how its so easy for me to feel grateful for the little things now but what about when things get better? I am going to struggle with being okay with less because I get to taste a bit of more. I am going to forget the burden that comes with having to go to the bathroom because I'll have one easily accessible in my home. I'll forget the feeling of wanting but having nowhere to go because I'll have a home to resort to. I will forget that people are still struggling and in despair when my life is going great. Thats all so scary to me. I don't want to stop being aware because I'm scared of what will come of it. I'm scared I'll stop feeling as compelled to help. I don't want to get lazy because I'm not living it anymore.

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This series could honestly go on longer but because being homeless is not all that I am, I have chosen to end it with number 3. I have gotten such an amazing, overwhelming response throughout this whole series and I couldn't be any more thankful for it. What I set out to achieve when writing each part I believe has been accomplished. I wanted to start a conversation for people, to stir the waters on this topic. I wanted to give perspective from someone people could be able to relate to. I wanted to inform and maybe even inspire. The response has made me feel like I've achieved that and more so Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou! 

As for my family and I well I don't know whats going to happen or if its going to get better sooner than later but you bet we will be laughing the whole way through. and with chocolate cake too.

I hope you choose to laugh when it gets hard which to be honest can happen and be a lot of the time. I hope you try for compassion and understanding with things that stir up the waters in you. I hope you love and love well. I hope you choose kindness. I hope you leave your toolbox at home unless you're asked to bring it. I hope you never feel as if you've arrived because closed minds never expand and expanding hurts but its wonderful too, miraculous even. 

I hope when you see a homeless person you feel an ache in your heart and I hope you don't pretend you don't see them. I hope you offer them kindness whether it be in a smile or food and water. I hope you see a homeless person with a grocery cart and remember that they already feel like a nobody and most likely have nobody so all that stuff helps them hold onto that twisted idea of home they now own. 

Be kind everyone and Love well.

-Analaura

Homeless. What Do I Know? PART 2

Choose gratitude over complaint.
 I am blessed.
 I am blessed.
  I am blessed.
This is how we survive.

Maybe finding the grace to stop complaining and whining isn't always the easiest or the most convenient to do but its something that I have chosen to live into and something I do implement into the lives of my mom and Celest. Everyday we are confronted with how much we need but also how much we already have. We can't go through life not noticing the many blessings we do possess because oh how much we would miss. Its true we will always need something and lack another but we will also always have something and be overflowing with another. Our lives are not empty, this I'm sure. Whether they be filled with pain or joy or love or creativity or experience our lives are NOT empty. 

We will always want more its our human condition. We are fed by the media this very ideal. As much as I'd love to say that being homeless has made me realize that I shouldn't worry about how much I have or that its made me want less, I can't. What a big fat lie that would be if I did. I can't say that I would be completely happy with a tiny place because at least its a place to call home right but truth of the matter is I would want more space. I would want a yard for my dogs and a room just for Celest. I would long for beautiful colored walls and pretty furniture.Even as insignificant I know and truly believe all these things are. Even though I know that with how much I have it won't bring upon lasting happiness. I would still be left wanting more. When I remember all this and how my heart begins to whine for more I say to myself "Gratitude over complaint. I am blessed. I am blessed. I am blessed." This has become a mantra of mine and every time I repeat and repeat and repeat it to myself its helps me live into it. Even as desperate and tired as I am from not having a home or catching a break I want to be able to try for gratitude. I want to say in the morning of everyday that yesterday I tried for gratitude so that I can be able to try again that very same day.

One of the many things I have come to know is that when you are submerged into this outcast world of people who don't have homes you are confronted with amazing deep stories and you are forced to look at your own story and see the very blessings you have.  You see the people who are homeless and have a car are the homeless that are at the top because these people have a lot more luxury than all the others. These people are usually the ones who get out and that is by far one of the greatest tasks we homeless have. Although having a car still has its downsides like keeping it legal and running which requires money which is what most of us don't have most of. Those who don't have cars resort to sleeping in between bushes and finding something with wheels to carry belongings. They don't have anywhere to go and finding somewhere to be where they wont call the police on you is such a task. I remember back in 2013 when our car wasnt working and we were on the bus and always scavenging for somewhere to stay and to be during the day. People would often question how someone who doesn't work or do much all day could be exhausted. I'll tell you why because your body or mind never rests from not getting a good place to sleep in at night due to bugs. people,police and even your own safety. You don't rest at night or during the day. Not having a safe place to shelter you and to call home makes a huge difference in regards to rest. It is exhausting not having anywhere to go with no stability or security, It takes major strength to keep your sanity in this situation and we all mutually give moments of silence full of understanding for those who weren't able to keep their bits of sanity. When a homeless comes in contact with another we don't become best friends like most people would believe we are all different as I've said before so we may not get along or agree with each other but we SEE ONE ANOTHER and I believe it to be a magnificent thing. We see and we understand because we are living it right along side one another so there's this silent bit of respect behind each of us for one another.

Most people wouldn’t skip the address question on paper work like I often do. Not having a physical address is quite difficult. The dmv will ask for one and will tell you that it’s not acceptable to put down a post office box. Insurance companies ask for a physical address as well and often deny any request to put down a post office box. We often resort to having to coyly admit to being homeless and anything other than our post office box is just not available. It’s something that boggles my mind because it seems that when you are homeless it’s expected that you disqualify yourself from being a part of society. Isn’t that weird?  It’s like people who become homeless also become less than. How unheard of.  It is a vision some people have with being poor in which you must look like a precious moments character with patches all over your clothes and big begging eyes to qualify. There are so many labels that are so often stuffed into little boxes. So many boxes that we don’t have to settle with, that I won't settle with.

---

Celest started 4th grade this past Tuesday just like a lot of kids here in San Diego did and she is just filled with so much wonder for whats ahead. I love it! I love the girl but YAY for 7 1/2 hour school days with free breakfast and lunch! What a blessing teachers are, am I right? Its just my mom and I and the dogs during the day now when I'm not working 3 days out of the week. I am a nanny Wednesday, Thursdays and Saturdays every week and I couldn't be happier about it. People have always been curious to what I do, if I work or go to college and there has always been so much shame carried in every single one of my responses. I don't go to college and for the longest time didn't have a steady job. Then the following question always came next. Why?? I never know how to respond to that one worded question because for me there's so much to it than just a simple answer. The reason I have always been hesitant to take any job like a waitress or at a fast food place is because I am in recovery. I dont think most people realize how much work recovery takes.  A couple years ago I was so obsessed with the idea that I was better off dead. I was in such a dark place that I would often day dream of my funeral not prom or guys or college. I was fighting for my life and I still am to this day. Although I am in a much better place today than I was even 2 years ago I am still in recovery and I will always be in recovery.  I have gone from giving up the fight and teetering on the edge of suicide to being determined to stay alive and healthy both inside and out. So yes maybe the fact that I haven't gotten a real steady job wherever I can find one is selfish of me to do because then maybe we would have already saved up enough money to rent a place but I will NOT apologize for it. I will not apologize for doing whats best for me. I know that if I got a job I wasn't happy in doing I would wake up everyday and dread going to work and slowly that would slide into dread waking up and that would push me into that dark place I swore to myself I would never go back to. I made a promise to myself to fight and thats what I'm doing. That place is so stubborn and SO hard to get out of. I live everyday knowing that its still there, waiting for me to tire out and give up. That terrifies the crap out of me! So I took the jobs to be a nanny to the most wonderful beautiful children that I LOVE SO MUCH because I don't dread going to do it!! It may not come up to the standard of what some people would like to see from me but I could really care less because I am in such a healthy place right now. People, I'm still ALIVE!! Holy SHIT you don't know how amazing and ENOUGH for me that is. I am loving others and loving myself and life! Thats so fucking AMAZING. I am growing and expanding and becoming a better person with each passing day. How GREAT is that!? I go at my own pace and now just recently have decided to look for another job I can enjoy to work on the days I don't in order to get my family ahead. 

OH how badly I want to let go of all this SHAME that manifests within me because I'm not where I thought I would be or other people think I should be. I don't want it! I don't want shame to make me feel like what I've done and what I do is NOT enough because guess what IT IS enough. It is! It is! Its enough! I'm ENOUGH. So yes I'm homeless and I don't have a job that pays enough to pay rent but I am so alive and it feels good. Its still every bit as hard and I AM tired. OH boy, am I tired but I'm not giving up. I'm staying in community as hard as it is for me and I'm loving others and letting them love me because simply put I WANT to not because I NEED them to. I'm not where I used to be and thank God for that.

I know that we all have that image in our heads of what our homes are suppose to look like and where we are suppose to be and what we are suppose to be doing  and I know that in reality we most likely fall short of that "image" in our heads and I'm here to remind you to stop doing that!! Stop it, because what you do and where you are is SO GREAT and its more than enough!

We are blessed. We are blessed. We are blessed.

This. 

This is how we thrive. 

.Stay Strong Fellow Warriors.

How do you survive?

You just do.

There is no other choice,

no other viable options.

You throw yourself into it,

head first

and make a mess along the way.

Gain a few too many scars,

break some things,

mend others.

Eventually,

you find yourself with 

a couple of friends

and a few precious tools.

You just have to.

You will.

Michelle K., How Do You Recover? pt. 7

Michelle K is on Tumblr. Follow her for more lovely poems about recovery.

Homeless. What do I know? Part 1

I often write about what is on my heart at the time so it makes sense that this blog is all about speaking of my truths. Lately, I have had it on my heart to write about my experience, what I know, and what I think about “homelessness”. It is an intense, personal and hard subject for me so I kept ignoring that message in my head that urged me to write about it. It’s too touchy of a subject. It’s too vulnerable. Will I say the right things? Will I give light to this subject in the correct way? And the big one, what will people think about it, about me??  I am all for being vulnerable and raw and real but I’d be lying if I said I don’t ever get scared when sharing things that I keep safe behind my walls. I thought about it over and over and I’ve waited it out several weeks but my heart just won’t let go of this so as scared as I am, I’m doing it.

While thinking of this subject I knew that one post just wouldn’t be sufficient. I knew that I needed to do a series of posts because theres so much to this particular subject and there is so much I have to say. Before I say anything else though I want to say that everything I write is soley based on my and my familys experiences and feelings and it DOES NOT speak for anyone who has ever been or is homeless although I do have hopes of hitting home and speaking for those who are hidden behind the shadows. I also would like to say that I acknowledge that I am not the only one who has struggled/s  or overcome/ing something difficult. We are all survivors and warriors. Pain is not something you measure.

I believe it’ll be appropriate to start with all my experiences with being homeless myself and how it affects my daily life, the things I’ve learned and how I’ve been treated.

The first time my family became homeless (2005) was about a year after we made a big move from a small town with a population of 40,000 to a big city with about a million or so residents. My mom being a single mom caring for 4 kids in a big city realized that her best just wasn’t gonna pay all the bills like it (barely) was doing back home. We put our things in storage units and kept the necessary like clothes and food stored in our car. I was in 5^th grade and Celest only one. We slept in our car uncomfortably, squished and crowded. My mom had just gotten laid off from her job working as a receptionist and was now working 18 hour days with two low paying jobs and I was missing school weeks at a time. Don’t ask where we showered because most of the time we didn’t. After a while of that my aunt which by the way is our only relative here in San Diego was generous enough to let us stay with her in her house. Well, that didn’t last long at all because after many unsuccessful tries of trying to convince her that we weren’t stealing her things from her, we left. There we went again living out of car and trying to survive. After that we decided to move deeper south into town and were able to get a cheap apartment. Well after about two years we got kicked out due to my brothers disturbances. After that we moved into a condo which we left after two months due to neighbors who were up to no good. Then we moved into a house which we also got kicked out of after two years for not being able to pay the rent and my brothers disturbances. We weren’t making it each month. The rent was too high and food was/is so expensive. We were fighting stay above water and were constantly failing to do so. After that house we moved into another house which we left after about a year and a half due to failure to pay the rent. {Tired yet? Hang in there with me, I’m almost there.}  After that we moved into a tiny tiny place in which we eventually moved out of because we weren’t making the rent, AGAIN. Story of our lives. We moved out of the deeper south of the city and into a lovely part of San Diego called normal heights with our big hearted friend in her small 1 bedroom. Oh did we make it work and count our blessings. That was in 2010 then we found a place nearby in which we stayed in for about 2 ½  years then left due to unresolving issues with my brothers and not enough money to pay bills. 2013 my mom, Celest and our 2 newest additions to the family, my dogs, and I set out on our own living in our car looking for a new home, separate from my brothers. We lasted 3 months then with help from our old church were able to get into a new place. We lasted a couple months then moved out due to a crazy infestation with roaches and an incident involving the youngest of my brothers. Disappointed. We were so close. So so close. We temporarily moved into a parked trailer in a backyard which we rented until after about 4 months when the owner decided she no longer wanted to rent it out and started going coo-coo for coco puffs on us. A lawsuit soon followed. From there we get to now. 2014. It is august as you know and its been four months now since the trailer… {I want to say before I discuss the present how my mom has done her best and my brothers may be a lot of things but they are still my brothers so please don’t hold any bitter judgements towards them. This is my story and they are just a part of it. They have their right to the telling of their own stories}

As I sit here with our car door open sitting watching Celest frolic in the water here at the beach/bay I feel blessed and alive and tired. As you have read we have moved from one intense situation to another and never leaving that intense-ness is draining. We have grown and seen so much since 2005. What an uphill battle yet adventure it has been. It is still hard though. It doesn’t get easier. Maybe we get a little use to it because we know so many of the ropes now but easier, no.

We sleep in our small black suv at this place called Fiesta Island. It’s a beach but more of a bay park area. We stay here every night and have been so lucky the police hasn’t come to bother us to tell us we can’t. Our car is packed with clothes and food and blankets, our basic necessities.  We are so often stared at due to the messy condition of our car from people everywhere we go. I understand its not a condition people usually carry their cars in so I can imagine the “woah” that pops into peoples minds when they see it but some take it a step further and make a dirty face or make snarky comments and some even call the police because God forbid that someone live in their car because ITS JUST NOT RIGHT. I’d like to say that the last part was a joke but sadly its not. I’ve realized that so many people believe it to be a lifestyle choice. That we CHOOSE to live in our car and to struggle. That we like it. Then they coincidedly begin to believe that we are a nuance, a pest, outsiders, people of low moral so the police should come and do away with us. BECAUSE THINK OF THE CHILDREN. Because God forbid some privileged children realize that there are people who aren’t as lucky to have a home. JESUS CHRIST HAVE MERCY, THE HORROR. I become saddened when these things happen because I am so often reminded  the ones who call out our ignorance show their huge pile of ignorance and lack of empathy so much more. I realize that there are so many of us without homes that have to try really hard to blend in and not stick out in the crowd because there is no trying for understanding or compassion from a lot of people. There are gems though, there are some people who see us and smile and may not understand or agree or “get it” but they show compassion anyway. OH how I LOVE to COME ALIVE for those gems. Its THOSE people that get me going, that fuel me up for another day and help me keep the goal of getting out of here. You will not get through to people by judging or trying to fix them that is just about the worst strategy ever that you could use. You create understanding and compassion. You show up with two listening ears and no toolbox.  I’ve been in many situations with friends who feel called to be the savior of our story and come with toolbox in hand to try &  fix what they felt was broken. It has NEVER worked out well because it doesn’t work!! People are not made to fix other people.Even as good and pure the intentions may be. As a favorite quote of mine says

 “You can’t save people. You can only love them”

 That’s what we were made for, to LOVE one another because we BELONG to each other. People are responsible for their own hearts so it goes hand in hand when I tell you that they are the only ones who can change/adjust/fix them. NO matter how much you say or do or try and fix it will do no good if the inscription that makes up their heart is still the same.

Nudges are different. Nudges like smiles and taking time to hear our stories, bringing us warm food, inviting us to shower at your home, speaking to us as if we’re no different because reality is WE AREN’T. Us homeless are real living breathing people who have hurts and scars and stories and friends and needs and hopes just like anyone else. I have come to know so many people with incredible stories who don’t have homes and it makes me sad when people categorize them as something beneath a real person. Does one deserve compassion until we realize they’re different?? No, but that’s the truth for some and its heart breaking.  So I say to you who reads this LOVE AND LOVE WELL even if you don’t get it or understand it or agree with it even if the problem is so evident its slapping you in the face just LOVE and the healing will come in pursuit. Please be aware that although I encourage you to listen and love well it is not me saying to silence yourself. Be loud but also kind. Be fierce but also compassionate. And leave your toolbox at home, please.

My little family is trying to get back up on our feet again and it is difficult. Everyday is hard and frustrating and emotions are always on high and things are said that shouldn't be and cold showers are nice but aren't as nice as hot ones. This is our reality right now more so than ever before and we are making do with what we've got. We are giving gratitude for the MANY things we do have.Like food and clean water and family and friends! I think the best part of sleeping at the beach is letting mother nature do its thing and sing and heal my heart alive. I love how Celest doesn't ever get tired of playing in the sand and swimming in the water. I love how my dogs get to run crazily in the sand because they are big goofs when no life guards or people are around. I love how we wake up and go to sleep watching the sun. I love meeting the many people who stay here who also live in their cars and hearing their stories.I love helping those people and having no one know about it because they're secret acts of love god and I share.  I love watching the ducks and feeding the pigeons.  I love watching a seagull run around with a whole slice of leftover pizza be chased by 5 other seagulls. I even like taking cold showers sometimes ‘cause the sun can get so hot here. I love the sand in my toes and finding sea shells. But even with all those things its still hard and I'm not saying this for pity because I am so not friends with pity or anyone who gives it me. Its still hard because I don’t like the sand that goes absolutely everywhere and in everything, especially my contacts case. I don’t like cold showers on cold mornings. I don’t like always having cold food unless heated up in some store(thanks fresh ‘n easy). I don’t like having to buy ice every single day to keep the food in our cooler fresh. I don’t like how every weekend the beach where we stay becomes overcrowded. I don’t like the way I have to walk a ways to get to the public beach bathrooms just to make a pee. I don’t like setting up our tent on the sand to sleep in at night because they turn on the sprinklers on the grass. I don’t like sleeping deformed in our car when nights get too cold or we get lazy too lazy to set up tent. I don’t like having to get out my clothes from the storage case on top of our car because people stare so hard and it can get embarrassing. I don’t like going to our storage unit every day to get some things out or put things back. But what I especially don’t like is that I can’t say “let’s go home”. Although we do in jokes say Fiesta island is our home its just not the same. I go to other peoples homes with pictures on the walls and spilling dirty laundry and dirty dishes and comfy blankets and I crawl into that sad place of mine because I miss it. I miss not having to do your laundry so often because it doesn't take up square footage of sleeping space. I miss hot water and leaving dishes in the sink. I miss leaving comfy blankets on the couch and cooking on the stove. I miss cold nights in a warm bed. I miss of all that. Even though I have got into the practice of giving more gratitude than complaint, I still miss all of that. I miss having the beach be a maybe rather than a have to. I miss inviting friends and saying lets go home. Lets go home because I'm tired. I'm so tired.

Truth, reality and pain make a lot people uncomfortable. Understandably, because what do you say?? Well, I'm here to tell you there will never be a perfect thing to say because each person and each situation is different so just say what you feel or don’t say anything at all but SHOW UP. I hope you keep an open mind and heart and you stay here with me and keep up with this series.  We can grow together so take a walk with me, metaphorically, although I love to take real walks too. 

If you have any thoughts please feel free to leave them and share them with me because I do very much love to read them.

Please keep on checking for my next post on this series which I have yet to come up with but none the less will happen.

Be Kind everyone and Love Well.

(Please be aware that this may no longer accurately depict our current situation) 

Stand.

I was asked to write something and share on the night of my churchs fundraiser and this is what I came up with. 

I will stand today,

even though it may hurt and may come with much difficulty

even when the ashes of what once was burn my feet

and my toes curl in agony

and my knees shake from the weight that I carry

even with the tears I wear that stain my skin

unwashed, untouched

left there as momentum's of growth

and the mismatched pieces that make up my heart

held together with the glue of good intentions

The pain I've felt forever indented in me,

often replaying itself

The thirst for love my heart beats for

its forever an addict

The cry for rest that yells within me.

the longing for home, for peace, for contentment

Oh, I will stand and I will carry on

and my feet do ache,

my head does too pound with fear,

my knees do shake

and the tears still coming,

the rest to me not given,

my heart still beating,

the light that is mine still shining, still alive

I will stand and fight and continue to rescue myself from the shadows that overwhelm me

I choose life.

I chose life today, 

and I will continue to choose life 

over and over again as hard as it can be.

I'll feel the pain as it comes

in waves

spilling over onto my face

I'll walk one foot in front of the other because none of us were ever meant to stay the same

I will transform,

what a gift to myself

I'll learn and unlearn

I will laugh as often as I'm able for it releases the pressure of all the pain

I'll do the best I can and that'll just have to do

I will not stop.

I've wasted too much time sitting,

fading away

so now?

Now, I will stand.