How I Got Here

I don't really have a format for this yet, I suppose its more of an insight into the world, my world, of homeless and the struggles and challenges I face on a daily basis.
For anyone who might stumble across this and wonder just how a homeless person is writing a blog on the Internet (shouldn't I have more important priorities.. like selling my stuff to have somewhere to live, perhaps?) well let me tell you.

Homeless is not just living on the streets. It can be living in your car, at a day shelter, a 'working shelter', domestic violence shelter, or just surfing on a friends couch, not knowing if you will be there the next day.


I happen to fall into most of the aforementioned categories,but usually either living in my car, or at a domestic violence shelter.  Currently I'm couch surfing (until tomorrow) at a friends house, who just so happens to have WiFi.


I have a net book that was given to me, which is about 8 years old and so slow it takes me 15 minutes to load Google, but it does its job. Unfortunately its so old and slow I couldn't pay someone to take it and thus, if I can find WiFi, I can write. (Fast food establishments usually leave their WiFi on even after they close at night)


I am lucky, I have  a car. Its old and small (and could use a really good cleaning) and when it dies, well I probably won't be getting another one unless my circumstances change for the better.


I came from the north to take a shot at my luck in the Nashville area and no, not as a musician. Although I have great respect for musicians and artists of all kinds, I certainly do not have the talent or the patience to be one.


I took a leap of faith and trusted family members (perhaps my first mistake) to help pull me out of a very dark time in my life-- recovering after a very serious domestic violence incident.

The domestic violence incident happened to be with an ex relationship of mine, of the serious variety, who nearly killed me, a friend and himself in what I can only assume was in an attempt to try to make a very muddled point. Due to very serious gaps in our laws and even more serious gaps in enforcement of the few good laws we do have (along with a barrel of rotten apple law professionals) I was forced into a domestic violence shelter for my own safety and eventually out of my jobs, continuing education and eventually my state.


I don't want to make myself identifiable just yet so my details are intentionally vague.

My move to the south didn't go so well.  Lets just say, everything went well for about, a month. First problem? I'm fat. Obese, in fact. Not only am I obese, but I have had weight loss surgery (of the reversible kind) which due to my circumstances, has had absolutely no effect. I remain at the weight I was nearly two years ago when I paid for the operation. (I will talk about obesity, poverty and homelessness in another post)


My so called family (DNA donor?) didn't like that. The fact that I can't eat more than a cup of food at a meal was just not right to them. Or that I would rather bypass the fried chicken dinners for say, a salad was just unacceptable. I was constantly critiqued and criticized and eventually had enough.


I also had to deal with major inequality, as a sibling of mine was literally spoiled rotten, while I was literally abused.  I had everything I owned literally stolen from me and was then kicked out on the streets for trying to do something about it. Not only was everything stolen from me, but said crazy ex was given every detail of my life, down to my hair color and my sleeping habits.

What little I had left, I packed into my car along with my dog (a ten pound chi mix) and  checked into yet another domestic violence shelter.  After seven days, I had to leave there due to my schizophrenic roommate, who was clearly unstable (and untreated) and would stand over me in my sleep singing lyrics to death metal songs about, well..death.




..To be continued

Who I Am

I am a 24 year old disabled Master's Degree holding woman who originates from the Philadelphia area.

I am a domestic violence survivor, a mother and a real human being.

I travel around frequently, going where ever opportunity beckons, in a desperate attempt to stabilize my life.

This, is my journey and these are my ramblings.