Saddened by Something Unforeseen in General Mental Anesthesia

Ok, so this story is going around and although it’s a feel good story, it completely pisses me off at the same time.

It’s rather difficult for me to clarify my feelings on the subject.

When I was this kids age; I was homeless (This kid has a home). I had a car, but it broke down all the time. I was working 55 hours a week and my job was 12 miles away from where I was living.

Let me explain, that I either lived in my car (when it was working) or walking the streets when it wasn’t. 80% of the time it wasn’t working. In regards to living 12 miles away from work, at the time, my job was located in a very dangerous neighborhood. I chose to be homeless in the suburban city that I formerly had a place in because I knew the area, I felt safer there.

Dozens of times I had to walk to and from work (12 miles each way) in dress shoes and a suit. I worked at Circuit City back then, remember those grey and blue polyester jackets they made us wear?

One time at work, I was helping a customer who had just purchased a stereo for her car. We were in the back as her car was getting worked on (just finishing up) it was close to 9pm. Suddenly, someone came up behind her, grabbed her pocketbook and ran. she was ok, and I took off with one other employee after the thief. I was catching up to him (maybe just 5 or 6 feet behind) when he jumped a fence and into a neighborhood I knew I didn’t want to be in). The two of us pursued and jumped the fence; we kept up the chase, but that’s when we noticed that people started to block our way and we they were attempting to surround us. We looked at each other and retreated, failing to get her pocketbook back.

It could be 40 degrees and raining… or 90 degrees with high humidity, I did that walk. Imagine how long it took… naturally, I wasn’t sleeping (I had to walk all night).

I was mugged twice near my place of work, once at knife point, and once at gun point.

I know this kid didn’t ask for help, I never did either, but something inside me is upset and angry when I see him come into such good fortune when I was pissed on in my time of need.

It’s expensive to be homeless, people don’t understand. I poured all my money into trying to keep my car on the road, getting it fixed all the time (it’s all I had) insurance, gas… every meal has to be out. You get a gym membership so you have a place to shower, you need to use laundromats to wash your clothes. In order to get an apartment for example: you need 1st month, last month, sec deposit, application fee (and a rental history). Society doesn’t make it easy for you. I worked a lot of hours, but didn’t make good money. Everything I earned went into survival. I’ve never smoked or done drugs, wasn’t an alcoholic… my money wasn’t being thrown away on stupid garbage!

I’m happy for this kid, he deserves what he got and I take nothing away from him or these generous people. It’s a wonderful story and I sure as hell do not want anyone’s pity!

At the same time, it hurts me greatly (I’m not entirely sure why). Maybe I subconsciously pity my younger self?

I’d love to be in a position to help others, but to this day, I’m struggling with just trying to stay alive and keeping a roof over my head. Just last year I lost my home, my car and most of my belongings for the umpteenth time due to failing health / being uninsured. All these years and I still can’t rise up out of the muck and mire life has permanently placed me in.

*People make assumptions about me: *

1. I have long hair so obviously I’m a drug addict or trouble maker
TRUTH: I’m extremely anti-drug and if anything, I bend over backwards to help others. I’m charitable and volunteer often with non-profit organizations. I’ve bought meals for people while I was homeless and starving.

2. I’m white and Jewish so my family must be all lawyers and Dr’s and wealthy.
TRUTH: Absolute bullshit! Not only have I been homeless for over 4 (non-consecutive) years of my life, but my entire family has been homeless intermittently over that time. My mom, my brother, my sister, even our pugs.

3. All homeless people are bums!
TRUTH: Some are. I’ve met a whole hell of a lot of homeless people over the years. Some are fully capable of working, but would rather beg for money then lift a finger. Many are drug addicts and alcoholics and are homeless because of their own poor decision making. 99% of people group ALL homeless into those two categories, but there are a great number of homeless who are victims of circumstance.

I was homeless initially because I was escaping many years of child abuse. I was homeless later on because I never made enough money to live beyond paycheck to paycheck. I’ve never owned a car newer than 9 years old and with less than 76k miles on it. My most recent car had 218k miles on it! I got laid off from several jobs due to my poor health (ulcerative colitis) needing frequent bathroom breaks etc… and whenever that happened, I couldn’t pay rent, it would lead to homelessness.

My mom’s company many years ago had layoff’s and after a decade she was let go. She, herself lived paycheck to paycheck and when her husband (my piece of shit fucking abusive stepfather) died… it was revealed that he wasn’t paying taxes and kept this hidden from my mom for several years who blindly allowed him to take care of the finances. This left my mother in about $60k in debt! (The government took money from my mother’s paychecks and took all her tax returns). So she had nothing in savings either.

It’s nice to see good things happen to good people, but it’s also incredibly depressing.

And you know what? I’m upset that I’m even bothered by this!!! I shouldn’t be. What also bothers me is that the kid got a 2004 car, that’s hardly new! It’s halfway through 2017 which makes that car about 14 years old. All I can think about is how he doesn’t make enough money to buy a used car, but he’ll certainly need to put in a decent amount getting this one fixed over time. Maybe that sounds petty or stupid and I know he has the insurance paid for a year and maintenance (oil changes plus a $500 gas card). I still think he should have been given something newer (2014 maybe) so he has something more reliable over the long term. I don’t like to think of him having to deal with all the headaches and stress I had to contend with like every car I’ve ever owned.

I’m a huge proponent of not half-assing things. Do these people deserve some praise and credit? Yes, absolutely! But at the same time, this is a half-assed effort to help someone. It only took a few days to raise enough to get that car, it wasn’t ‘gifted’ by the dealership as alluded to, they just lowered their profit margin. It all feels like something people did to get likes on facebook and youtube etc… Call me an asshole if you want, but if they can raise $5500 in a few days, how much more effort would it take to get this kid a new (inexpensive) car with a 3 year warranty? Good deeds are great, but go all out if you’re trying to help, don’t stop halfway there. Would you walk someone across the street only to turn back once you led the person into the intersection???

Ugh… maybe I’m the bad guy here, but it’s just how I feel.

I want to end with the following (although I think it’s a piece of garbage). It’s one of my early poems before I came into my own as a writer, but details my existence mentioned above. This was 1995 into 1996.

This Life I Know

I remember the coldest winter Florida has had in the last 25 years
I remember it well
I was homeless
And on that road to Hell.

I worked 55 hours a week.
Shoes, shirt and tie
Come the dawn, I’d be harassed
Via policemen, passing by.

I was where I should not be
I was not home, you see
They asked me questions
And they prodded me.

They, hand cuffed me
They searched my things
They found my work clothes
Which they threw in the street.

It was pouring rain.
And 40 degrees
Pinned face to my trunk
Thanks to a cop, and his knee.

Why was I treated like this?
I wanted nothing but to sleep
I shivered, wet hair in my eyes
I stayed calm, while inside, I cried.

They found nothing.
So they told me to go
To never return
To the streets I know.

I tried to pick up my things
From the puddles where they lay
But they told me to drive
And just go away.

Now I had less…
I lost more than just sleep
Even less than before
And I was still on the street.

Ulcers, I had
Which made things worse
At times, it was bad
And I bled, and I hurt.

Some days my car couldn’t start
And work, being so far away
I’d dress in a parking lot
On these cold winter days.

I would take my backpack
And be underway
Not even dawn on this new day
I’m walking to work 12 miles away.

My abdominals were in pain
At night, and all day
Ulcerative Colitis they say
Was slowly… taking, my life away.

All I thought was where I’d be
At 9:00, once I’m free
Leaving work…
… And I’m back on the streets.

A 12 mile hike
Just to get home
Through bad neighborhoods
And through woods, I roam.

I get to my car.
It still won’t start
My feet hurt so much
I keep an eye out for cops.

Some nights, I’m not caught
Dozing off, in a park
Other nights, I have no luck
And am harassed by you know what.

They don’t care why you’re there.
Getting off through inflicting fear
I’m always peering in the dark
Staying in shadows, so I don’t get caught.

Often I lay back in my seat
Through T-tops do I see
My frosty breath
In front of me.

I wonder if
In the morning I’ll awake
Or will I freeze
Before day break?

I had no blanket
To keep me warm
Shivering myself to sleep
Pre-impending dawn.

My health was failing
My body wanted rest
Inside, I was bleeding
So I prayed for death.

It wasn’t my fault
That I suffered like this
Decisions I had made
To run from one’s fist.

I grew strong
As I was alone
My heart in pieces
At the base of my soul.

I survived for months
On very little sleep
Occasionally for weeks
Without even crumbs to eat.

But I learned a lot about life; about strife
On how to survive under the stars and the sun
Because you don’t always have someone (to lean on)
When those you need most turn shoulder and shun

This life I know.
This life is me
So I walk these streets
For what seems an eternity.

Copyright (c) 1995 Jaye Eryk

Last updated July 13, 2018