I woke in this motel room this morning, looked out at the cloudy, hot day, and fought to not crawl back under the covers.
The weariness of just surviving is something that no one who has not been here can ever truly understand. As much as I try to stay energized and positive, it has become a struggle like everything else.
Did I even mention that I got my dog Cody back with me? When I thought that I had a place to stay last week, I went and got him from the shelter to go with me. The reunion was emotional to say the least…I was crying, the shelter director was crying, and Cody…well, he was jumping and peeing all over the place. It was awesome. I feel somewhat badly now that he is in this situation with me, but it has really helped me to not be so alone. He is a gift.
I wanted this post to be so organized so well written, when in all reality I’m afraid it will be just how my mind is…muddled and all over the place.
I went for a much needed therapy session a few days ago, and boy, did I break. I have spent so many days just holding myself up, trying to be strong, functioning…but, the safety and acceptance of that therapy room allowed what I had most feared…letting it all go.
I told it all…How it feels to take a couple of dollars into the store, and try not to look at other’s purchases with envy. What it feels like to go up to a sample table in the store and try not to drool as you place a small piece of ham and cheese into your mouth. You smile, make eye contact, you don’t want anyone to know how hungry you are…how scared. You look at all these “normal” people going about their everyday lives and they have no idea…that you are homeless. You try to hide it as much as you can…and yet, there is a part of you that wants to scream it out loud…”I’m homeless! I’m hungry!”…but, you just smile, nod your head, wish them a nice day. You begin to feel like two people…the one you show to others, and the invisible one, the one that is scared, ashamed, tired, lonely and hungry. The person no one sees.
So many people tell me how strong I am. They don’t see the invisible part either, because I won’t show them. The shame is so overwhelming that I don’t even want to show it here…in the one place I should be able to lay it all down…
I’m afraid to say how forgotten I feel…how sometimes I’m afraid no one is thinking of me…because I don’t want to hear all the denials, because, I know it’s not true, but it is still how I feel. I fear telling how I sometimes feel like a little child, lost and alone, and how I yearn to be held, to feel safe, to feel cared for by someone..anyone, if only for a little while.
I feel guilty for all the envy I feel when I see families together…laughing, having dinner. Guilt for coveting constantly…the food on the commercials, the homes, the happiness of others…everything I don’t have. I pray about it. I berate myself…Stop feeling sorry for yourself! You have some food, you have a room today, you have your dog, you have people who care about you….So many people don’t have even this much! Stop feeling sorry for yourself!
Ugh…why did I think this would be so easy to put down here…on my blog?