When it comes to chronic homelessness, there’s two different causes; internal and external.
External reasons could be any number of things that aren’t under our control. Most of them revolve around finances. Job insecurity due to illness or injury or whatever.
And the internal ones include the usual addiction, mental illness or physical disability(which could lead to the external problem of not gaining employment) and the list goes on.
But no matter what got you there, there is one thing no one seems to want to acknowledge: getting comfortable. When you get comfortable living outside or living in a shelter, then it makes it that much harder and virtually impossible to end the nightmare of being homeless.
Comfort and convenience is the number one complaint among the women in this shelter. We aren’t comfortable living with these annoying ass rules. We’re not comfortable having to leave every single morning. We’re not comfortable having to share a bathroom and showers with a bunch of nasty ass women that have no home training. And I, myself, am not comfortable having to keep my clothes on all damn day even when I’m at home, damnit!
I mean seriously, I miss laying around in my damn underwear. I just know, that I am trying to make sure I’m out of here by the summer time. I am dying to get out of here.
On the contrary, there are several women that treat this place as their home. There’s one woman who adjusts the blinds and windows and the tables and chairs as soon as she comes in after 4pm. There’s another woman who is hoarding so much stuff it’s not even funny. The staff recently made us throw away a ton of stuff to downsize in order to meet the guidelines. She sent a bunch of her things to her storage unit but she’s steadily getting more and more stuff and it’s quite annoying to me.
She takes up the room on the floor and she tells me I can step on whatever or I can move whatever is in my way. And I’m thinking to myself, “Why don’t you just not have your crap all over the floor in the first place? Why don’t you just realize that we all share this space and if you don’t like it, get the fuck on and get out?!?!”
But I care about this woman. I understand why she hoards. I understand the feeling of not having enough because you’ve lost everything already. I even like the woman. I think she’s really cool. But….
This is a problem. Home is supposed to be the place where you are the most comfortable. Home is where your stuff is. Home is where you can lie around naked reading manga, listening to anime OSTs and eating sushi(or is that just me?). That’s the level of comfort you’re aiming for when you seek stable housing of your own.
So, ask yourself this question: What is my motivation for getting out of this situation?
If the freedom to sleep whenever you want or need to, or to be able to eat the food you want instead of whatever you can get, or to be able to come and go as you please day or night, then the key is not to seek this kind of comfort while you’re still in the shelter.
You understand? If you’re looking to be more comfortable, then don’t look to be more comfortable where you are. Where you are is NOT supposed to be comfortable. Like… at all. Get over yourself.
And that’s it. I don’t care how you feel. No one does. Because if you’re miserable. If you’re uncomfortable. If you’re discontented. Guess what.
You’re supposed to feel that way when you’re homeless.
The only exception to the rule is someone who chooses to sell all their stuff and live out of their van. Or someone who chooses to live outside in a tent. And I mean, the people that had no other reason outside of a sheer whim or thought out decision(usually a whim) to do so. I’m not talking about those addicted to drugs or alcohol either. Those dumbass decisions aren’t being made with a clear head(that’s what makes them dumbass decisions).
Bottom line; don’t hoard and quit your whining and put that extra energy into getting the fuck out and into your own place. OR you can just fall into the mental trap of complacency and stay homeless the rest of your life. The choice is yours.