full image - Repost: Life is hard, I need someone to listen and help if they can. (from Reddit.com, Life is hard, I need someone to listen and help if they can.)
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This is a serious questionI’m 43. I am homeless man living in a shelter.I also have very significant depression and anxiety.A friend of mine, an ex, who is one of the few people that I still have in my life says that one day I will meet a girl and I can still have a family. That that is a reality for me because of all the good I have inside of me, because of the man she knows me to be, and that our mistakes do not define us as individuals, and that I can be better and stronger for it. She tells me I’m the strongest person she has ever known…to which I reply, I don’t feel strong, not anymore, and I don’t see a future, especially one where I’m in a loving relationship with a family of my own—biological or otherwise..I don’t know about this because I have such a low opinion about myself now and have for a few years now. It has only been exacerbated by the fact that I’m homeless, I don’t have many possessions anymore, my self confidence is pretty much at a zero and my self loathing would be about a 10 (Out of 10).While being homeless I amassed a large number of charges and subsequently those are now convictions. I’m ashamed of that fact and despite never harming anyone with the convictions, I did do some things that I am seriously ashamed of and really cannot accept myself for those things while on drugs I never consumed before and with certainty I can say I won’t ever again. I completed a year of probation and I guess that is an accomplishment along with not reverting to using drugs to cope with my shitty life.I used to be handsome, tall, deep voice, have a sense of humour, enjoyed being romantic and was capable of loving others. I have a history of that. I have a history of doing well in university and being generally successful at the jobs I worked in and I never had a difficult time finding work.I doubt that I will have the same ease of employment if I was even able to garner the confidence and competency to work a job.You see, I’ve burned many bridges along the way. I got burned out in the hospitality industry and don’t know if I can go back to it. My criminal record would restrict me to finding work related to my degrees now…they were a long time ago now anyway 19 and 16 years respectively..I don’t have a trade or experience in labour of any kind.My last job was three years ago and I worked at Fox Harb’r on the golf course maintance turf team. It was a great job and one that I greatly enjoyed until my mental health took a sudden and sad turn to depression. I may have been manic at the time I was there, I’m not sure, I enjoyed magic mushrooms and cannabis while working and drank sometimes while golfing. I had previously been told that I had bipolar disorder but even after all of this, an extended stay on an acute psych ward whereby I received ECT 13x as an adjunct treatment for bipolar, the treatment team still was unsure if I actually had bipolar disorder…When I left that ward, I went home to my apartment and laid in bed for 9 months until I was evicted. My roommate at the time was my ex and she did her best to take care of the apartment but it wasn’t an ideal situation for either of us.I ended up in a hotel room with her and the cat for a couple of months and then I slowly pulled out of depression with cannabis and psychedelic use with a buddy of mine…the hotel situation deteriorated, my ex, she had to make a tough decision and had a chance to move into her moms place and I ended up on the street. I lasted two months in tents and sleeping in bathrooms and elevators and anywhere I could find safety. I used different drugs, to cope and escape. I lost my remaining belongings, my guitar, my reality, and a lot of friends that I cared about because of my detachment of reality.I had posted a link to a YouTube performance but had to remove it.I had a couple odd jobs for a couple of weeks and ended up getting a job opportunity at Cabot Cliffs. I went up there believing that I had the job but I still hadn’t quite shored up the position itself. I applied for a caddy and started position, which I may have been able to keep it together enough to do the job…but based on my experience it was suggested that maybe I could be a candidate for a housing manager position…great right? So….a long story, long, I didn’t get it. I probably acted irrational when I went up there (a friend drove me up believing I had been offered and accepted the position and then I realized that it wasn’t mine when I left there and in the weeks that followed..I alienated some of the kindest people, friends, that I had. I became angry and resentful that people who I believed cared about me were somehow allowing me to live on the street and I lashed out and said hurtful things or acted inappropriate and well, only narrowed the circle of friends that I did once have and some of which are the very best people I’ve ever known..I’m laying in the dark in the shelter I live in, withholding tears because any kind of weakness known or shown here among the men here, would only further ostracize me as if that is even possible at this point.I used to be social. Fun. Always had something to say, a joke or a fact, and had a wide range of interests and things that I was passionate about.I had a decent wardrobe, I love my concert tees and my winners designer jeans, I love writing and singing, playing guitar—to at was stolen as well…and after everything that I’ve been through…health related through Crohn’s disease, trauma related to that, trauma related to mental health memories and experiences and intertwined with my trauma related to being homeless, arrears, charges and a four month jail sentence…where I plead out to get out…some charges would have been dropped but I was wallowing in there and felt it necessary to save myself to get out sooner. Had I went to trial, I still could be inside waiting for the trial and sentencing could have ended up being much longer still based on the nature and frequency of the convictions…So here I am…43, 6’1 about 210lbs…out of shape, very depressed, my personal hygiene is shameful…my self care is shameful…my mistakes I’ve made are shameful…I’m in a shelter that I hate being in, with people I never want to be around…and I spend most of my time here.My social anxiety and depression is such that I am afraid to go anywhere in public. My awkwardness is so bad that I am so uncomfortable and scared that people wouldn’t like me if they found out what I went to jail for, even though I never harmed anyone but myself…and I am angry at myself and almost everyone so I don’t say anything because I was raised to not say anything if you don’t have anything nice to say…so I don’t..say…anything…I used to be confident and opinionated. I used to be social and my ex has said that she used to hate going out with me because so many people would see me and stop and want to talk to me..which is true…As I write this I hear a guy I cannot stand eat dry lucky charms out of a cup. The guy never stops eating and I’ve watched him get fronted weed by a notorious former gang affiliate for the past two weeks now…and just imagine that if the checks don’t come tomorrow he may have to answer for that debt…I don’t think my feet stink as bad as his do, so I guess that’s a plus for me…I also don’t owe anyone anything here and as much as I love smoking weed and had for decades…it ramps up anxiety even further in this environment and I don’t even like it anymore—I even find myself resenting the fact that people here get to self medicate in a way that I can no longer even fkg do…So…thanks for reading if you’re still with me. I don’t know if this is a confession or an AMA or asking for advice or reassurance that I am not a completely lost cause now…I don’t know…I feel like a burden to my elderly parents…who I still talk to thankfully, once a week and visit…I feel like I’m a burden to my ex who is probably my closest friend I have…I’ve completely abandoned most acquaintances and some dear long time friends who I didn’t have a falling out with, I just simply casted myself away because of what is there to say really? What do I have to offer anyone who knows me, or a potential further girlfriend, partner, wife, or a potential friend, new or former?…I feel like such a worthless piece of a wasted life. I had potential. I had contacts and relationships and networks of people who I could get in touch with and rekindle old work experiences or moments in time and reminisce and maybe form new memories…I have a brother and a sister in law and a sweet nephew, who I don’t have a relationship with anymore because of the poor decisions that I made..that’s something that eats at me and the disappointment of my family…and only perpetuates and feeds the self loathing and the outright hate I feel for myself…Am I a lost cause? Is it even worth trying to pick myself up off the mat again? Is there even a person worthy of another chance at life or has mine become so hopeless and as hopeless as I feel it now is that I should just give up?What do you think? I don’t dare open up to the people here at the shelter…no one is going to offer me the time and patience and understanding….and even if they did would I just make further excuses about how there is no point in trying because my life is shit, I am shit and nothing will ever change that, so what’s the point at all?A known drug addict and drug dealer burps in the background and said he has to go piss out loud…he will no doubt snort some more opiates in his cubicle when we gets back…the joys and sounds of shelter life…another depressing reminder of where I am at and who and what I detest..Maybe this is just a record of a portion of my life so someone knew I was here and endured something and how I regret my life.I remember being 19 and a freshman at SMU and realizing that I didn’t want to live a life of regrets. This opened the door to love and relationships, unique work experiences outside the city…helping jobs and dream jobs…and performances and public speaking all of which I am proud of but seems like now, I am not even a shadow of that former self…I am a smudge of shit left by a cool pair of sneakers I once owned…So whatever you got out of this, don’t hesitate to hold back. I’m genuinely unsure what I expect at this point….but I can assure you reader that it’s not much…oh the sound of pills being crushed and snorted is in the background….and my bed is illuminated by a night staff’s car headlights outside….another reminder of how inconsiderate some people can be and another reason to detest my life…It reminds me of a statue that I once had been gifted that belonged to my beautiful Nanny who passed away from a stroke in her 94th year. It was a sad looking man sitting in a toilet. His hand was on the flusher and it had a caption that said: ‘goodbye cruel world.’ My Nan was one of the most gracious and beautiful, one of the most intelligent and selfless people I ever knew and my own Mom, is a spitting image of her and I am her son who is homeless, an ex convict, a profound failure who can’t get himself going in the right direction and continues to sink further into oblivion…she doesn’t deserve to witness that…my Dad doesn’t either…When I was in grade one, just as the sound of a man farts in his sleep, I said I wanted to grow up and be a bum because it’s funny…not the act of homelessness directly that’s funny but because calling a hobo a bum, as a 6 year old was hilarious to me…I peeked onto my Facebook memories the other day and 12 years ago or so, I commented on a day that dad and I went downtown and walked around and gave away cigarettes and chocolates and socks and mittens and hats to homeless people because I had told dad that a lot of people who live on the streets have pervasive mental illnesses and he having ptsd and depression of his own he thought and suggested it to be a good idea to do something like this. We ended up going to the casino for a bit afterwards as well…I would be lying if I said that that, too, haunts me now that I am a homeless person…me wanting to be a bum because it’s funny and I think one of my first costumes as a kid on Halloween was that of a hobo. As dad would say, ‘ isn’t that ironic?’ I’m not sure if Alanis or dad coined that saying first, she did more famously, clearly.I might as well close this with something. I wish you the best life. I wish you the courage to bare your own shortcomings and that you find strength in your own traumas and hardships. I wish you the self love to experience all the beauty you choose to for as long and as sincerely as you humanly possibly can.I can only post this in one group, I think, and if you want to share this with other groups by all means please do so….maybe somehow, some way, I will reach someone who can offer help, or insight, or someone who says, hey I feel the same and that man doesn’t seem so bad…or that I helped someone in some way…or or or….to the people who stood by me through so many things in my life, thank you. To the people who felt they had to turn away to preserve their own lives, I understand and wish you read this or come into each others lives again…to the people who I disappointed, and unintentionally or subconsciously used and wasn’t an equitable friend, I’m deeply sorry for that…some toxic traits of mine, I was probably unaware of in those moments and I wish that I could laugh and look at you and create new memories with…Gabe, Nate. Clancy, Ted, Rich, Julie, Dave, Pat, Amy, Jen, Cress, George, Steph, Paul, Jane, Rach, Jay, Mike, Ronok, Bill, Guy, Struan, Trisha, Monika, and many more…and all the people who I loved and respected who left this world far too soon…My friend said today among my frustrations and frequent complains: life is a puzzle that we have to work hard on to be happy. She is not wrong. I know that…I can rationalize that fact…I can agree…but my depressed and crushed soul and heart and head just tells me that there is no hope. And if there’s no hope there is no motivation.It’s been an hour and the staff car lights are still beaming through the window for fk sakes….it’s times like this that using the bathroom, taking a pack of cigarettes, bundling up and walking for the next five hours in a rough part of town seems so enticing at 1:15 in the morning…just so I can have a cigarette to go along with this will and testament of sorts…So feel free to add this to AMA, confessions, advice, relationships, mental health, depression, musician, life lessons, growth, stories, truth…anything you want so more people can read it and reach anyone who this may connect with…please ad me as OP if you do so…Take care of yourself so your loved ones can have you in their lives for a long time so not to make them just a memory, a distant one, a close one, or otherwise.Peace and love.A-not-so-anonymous-man-living-an-innocuous-life.
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