First I would start spiraling deep into depression and lose all hope. This would only be reinforced by the realization that very few programs exist to help with this situation and even fewer that are properly funded enough to be able to help. The slope would only get more steep as you get more and more entrenched into being homeless, not that you want to, and realize that people in general don’t really care either. You’ll start to stop thinking of yourself as a person or an individual and just as a problem that gets in everyones way. No one else will look you in the eye so why should you look yourself in the eye? You give up asking for help eventually. After being rejected at every other program and being outright ignored, stepped over, or given sandwiches made of dogshit you will just sort of collapse. Drug use will seem more and more appealing because you’ve lost everything, there’s nothing left to lose now right? You’ll slip and slide further and further until hope is a distant dream that you’re pretty sure was invented, not one you had yourself. Eventually you’ll end up in a position where the weather outside is too extreme and it’ll force you into a homeless shelter. You haven’t stayed here in years, not since you last had your wallet and shoes stolen from you while you slept, but it’s either die or this. So you go inside and you’re lucky enough to meet a cute staff worker who actually looks at you and treats you like a person and actually looks you in the eye. First time you’ve really felt like a person in years. He offers a sandwich and something to drink and you have a breakdown. First time you’ve felt like a person in a very long time. He gets it. Not the first time he’s seen it. So you go back every now and again hoping to see him but you run into some other staff. A lot are horrific people who are miserable pieces of shit who genuinely don’t deserve to even breathe but a lot of other people are the kindest souls on the planet. People who are trying to help. So you ask for help. For the first time in years. Yet while everyone else ignored you, these people smile and are happy because they’ve been waiting for you to ask. And they help. They know about the programs that are barely funded and barely known about. They hook you up with a doctor who is able to finally diagnose what the hell is wrong with your head (To no ones surprise after years of trauma from homelessness, and even more from your own life, you have CPTSD) and start getting assistance. They know of another program to help subsidize your rent costs to get you out of homelessness and within 6 months you’re moving into your own place and looking back at these staff astounded and amazed that they helped you. They’re treated like trash, screamed at, paid fuck all, told to go to hell, and actively attacked but they still push and help when no one else will.
First I would start spiraling deep into depression and lose all hope. This would only be reinforced by the realization that very few programs exist to help with this situation and even fewer that are properly funded enough to be able to help. The slope would only get more steep as you get more and more entrenched into being homeless, not that you want to, and realize that people in general don’t really care either. You’ll start to stop thinking of yourself as a person or an individual and just as a problem that gets in everyones way. No one else will look you in the eye so why should you look yourself in the eye? You give up asking for help eventually. After being rejected at every other program and being outright ignored, stepped over, or given sandwiches made of dogshit you will just sort of collapse. Drug use will seem more and more appealing because you’ve lost everything, there’s nothing left to lose now right? You’ll slip and slide further and further until hope is a distant dream that you’re pretty sure was invented, not one you had yourself. Eventually you’ll end up in a position where the weather outside is too extreme and it’ll force you into a homeless shelter. You haven’t stayed here in years, not since you last had your wallet and shoes stolen from you while you slept, but it’s either die or this. So you go inside and you’re lucky enough to meet a cute staff worker who actually looks at you and treats you like a person and actually looks you in the eye. First time you’ve really felt like a person in years. He offers a sandwich and something to drink and you have a breakdown. First time you’ve felt like a person in a very long time. He gets it. Not the first time he’s seen it. So you go back every now and again hoping to see him but you run into some other staff. A lot are horrific people who are miserable pieces of shit who genuinely don’t deserve to even breathe but a lot of other people are the kindest souls on the planet. People who are trying to help. So you ask for help. For the first time in years. Yet while everyone else ignored you, these people smile and are happy because they’ve been waiting for you to ask. And they help. They know about the programs that are barely funded and barely known about. They hook you up with a doctor who is able to finally diagnose what the hell is wrong with your head (To no ones surprise after years of trauma from homelessness, and even more from your own life, you have CPTSD) and start getting assistance. They know of another program to help subsidize your rent costs to get you out of homelessness and within 6 months you’re moving into your own place and looking back at these staff astounded and amazed that they helped you. They’re treated like trash, screamed at, paid fuck all, told to go to hell, and actively attacked but they still push and help when no one else will.
Source: Experience.
Thanks for sharing this.