Saturday, August 28, 2010

Saturday, August 28th 2010 5 pm (ish)

I forgot my state picture id so I couldn’t check out any library books. 2 nights &, 1 day perfect my stare into nothingness. The thought of returning to the gloom is enough to send me bridge hunting. I don’t think I can do it.

I’m sitting in the warm sun where half the people are those who left the gloom and the other half are people enjoying the park itself. It’s actually not a bad park for a downtown such as Los Angeles. I just wish the city would provide electrical outlets in the park. Not all laptops have great long lasting batteries.

I know I said I would just leave the gloom each and every day. But it’s a lot different being in the gloom then just walking through it. Maybe I am tough but do I want to test theory? How long can I really keep my ‘game face’ on? It was only a moment but last night I broke and silently cried. I quickly wipe away the tears and steadied my breathing but it was a broken game face moment. If I stay I worry that I will harden to a point where all that is me will dissolve away. That or I will become a Skid Row statistic.

I applied to some jobs while at the library but most were not terribly attractive – my skills and the requirements were not well match.

No accounting skills
No web design or maintenance skills
No graphic design skills
I’m not strong in Power Point or QuickBooks
…and I no longer have entry level tech support skills. My belief in my employment value is quickly evaporating.

Almost time to return to the gloom. The Devil’s Happy Hour where the real vampires come out to play.


Is there a bathroom here? Of course not. Gawd forbid they be used by the horrible homeless who may spread they’re disease of homelessness.

Theres a man in the park worshiping the sun, I think he may be a bit ‘off’. As the sun continues to descend behind the buildings he moves to the next available sunny spot. Doesn’t he know he can’t hold back the night? Does he forget this each dawn?

I now know for a fact that some people are perfectly content being homeless. They have no problem taking advantage of the free shelter and food. In fact the bits of conversations that have drifted past me have educated me that not only are they content with Skid Row life but they know no other life. A woman near me this morning said she going to visit her daughter and granddaughter in line up ahead. Skid Row is not just a place you end up in. It’s a cycle that breeds generations. However with the pressing needs of so many new homeless changes should be a top priority. Ask yourself…

If you wouldn’t want you daughter, mother, sister or wife to live in a place like this why is it ok for anyone to live like this?

There should be police on the streets 24/7. Not just in patrol cars but on foot and in groups of three. Parolees and work release prisoners should be cleaning up the streets literally. There should be garbage cans on every corner. Recycling cans for homeless people to pull cans and bottles from. Every street in Skid Row should be lit up as if the night never touches the circle of gloom. Those kinds of changes would make a big difference and reduce the crime by even a minimal percentage.

Time to return to the gloom.

Sunglasses on
Head up
Back straight
Look ahead
Don’t look to the sides or at anyone.
Back in the gloom



Dinner

I really wish I could have taken a picture of dinner tonight. The scoop of macaroni and cheese would have been a great inspiration for a kid’s jungle gym.

After dinner.

I checked the transitional housing program place to see if the case worker checked her messages – no. The same man from Friday was there and I do believe he genuinely cares. He told me that come Monday all would be ok. Yes, I’ll be in a better cage but a cage all the same. At least that one will keep out most of the animals. As I write this one of the animals is pacing and pawing the ground. Growling and sneering about her stolen cell phone charger. I have to admit that the ER Shelter attendee is tougher than I first perceived. She had no worry as she stepped in front of the sneering animal and laid down the ER Shelter rules.

Head down and look at no one. We are all animals here. Her pawing came too close to me...at least too close to my comfort. Pacing back and forth in front of me as if challenging me to look up from writing and dare her to question me regarding her cell phone charger – I don’t look up.


The hyenas have arrived. Too late for dinner and hoping someone will give them a bite to eat.
The sun continues to descend and the chill is settling in. Not too long now.

In the bedding area it’s the same fast paced routine. Wait for the storage room to open. Get your gear, take out sleep clothes, figure out what you will wear tomorrow, get night needed things, and pack it back in and get ready for bed. Once you’re ready put any items you don’t want to sleep in or with in storage and hope you are exhausted enough to fall asleep the moment you lay down.

Uggs – I’ve been scared thin…and into laser hair removal. A big belly full of hair in the women’s bathroom. Enough said – a scar for life.

Good night

Good morning Skid Row

While the vampires are out…

#2 NOTEBecause I couldn't get online last night I'm posting this in two different blog postings to break up the length. 


The dorm style room is filled with approximant 100 to 115 bunk beds. The mattresses are plastic and the sheets are badly stained but clean. The pillows are scarce and the blankets are anything but soft and the air is hot, sticky and stale. At least the bathrooms here have full size doors unlike the lounge with half size doors and no locks on either. The best looking room sadly enough is the storage room – wish I could have slept in there.

The women are getting ready for bed in attire I wouldn’t wear even as a joke. Most are smart and wear sweats and a tank top. Others…I’ll never wear bike shorts again. There are some who are ironing clothing for the next day and one woman who is lithe enough to stretch before bed on her top bunk bed. Then there is the woman who meticulously wipes down every part of the metal bed with alcohol including the floor around and underneath her bed. Lots of little stories in this room.

At 10:05pm the lights start to go out. I’m lucky enough to be assigned a bed near a light fixture that is never turned off. Great. It’s like trying to sleep with the lights on. I toss and turn, move this way and that and even though I’m using the pillow less pillowcase as a sleep mask I never truly fall asleep.


  • Wake up and look at the clock 2:30 am
  • Wake up and look at the clock 3 am
  • Wake up and look at the clock 4:15 am
  • Wake up and look at the clock 5:10 am


Wake up requirement is at 5:30 am and women start to get ready at 5am. I sleep in to a whole whopping 5:30 am. No showers in the mornings. If you want a shower you have to wait until 2pm or go down the street for a community shower. Thankfully I have an exercise towel with me so I get it wet and sponge myself clean of at least most of the sweat before putting on clean clothes. Wish I still had my gym membership. I’m too chickenshit to use the showers in Skid Row after experiencing the Day Lounge bathroom.

Yea….it’s time for medical green trays filled with edible surprise. The items on the tray change after every 10th person or so. So many people got something different. Coffee? Noooo the men are served first and if they drink it all oh well, too bad for the woman folk. Fuckers! I wait for the office to open but after almost an hour I just want to get out of that place before I’m forced to migrate back to the land of hopelessness.

I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to go back tonight but what other choice do I have? There is no other place to go…until at least Monday. Even as of Monday, I may be forced to stay in Skid Row. Even the thought of going back makes me wonder if its worth it all. I can see how easy it can be to numb your surroundings and deny just how horrible it all really is with drugs.

One woman who was entirely too pissed for my comfort level over the lack of coffee told me that employers in Financial District do not hire anyone with a Skid Row address. As if I would provide a Skid Row address – HELL NO. I’ll put my old address and forward the mail to whatever transitional housing program I get into.

Tips for Skid Row

I don’t know where I learned it or even when. Maybe I somehow just knew it or maybe tidbits of memory are surfacing from my early days when I was with my savior from my {parent} who turned into my “Sleeping With The Enemy” nightmare. Or maybe all the books I’ve read and moves I’ve seen have street educated me. However I learned it I have put into motion some tips I’ve quickly learned or relearned in less than 24hours for staying away from conflict and or being marked...so far.


  • When you are eating breakfast, eat with your head down, your eyes level and your ears open. Last night and definitely this morning I noticed a lot of little sparks that could have easily turned into physical conflicts. The coffee less mad woman was definitely not thrilled and I believe she may have been escorted out because she was so mad.




  • When you go to the bathroom don’t forget to get a wad of toilet paper from the office. I plan to grab a stack of napkins from McDs and other places. Don’t take your eyes and if your able to your hands off your bag while going to the bathroom. Don’t make eye contact in the bathroom. One female entity was pretty miffed because a woman in the bathroom glanced over at her while she was going to the bathroom.



  • When your sitting in the lounge or courtyard or pretty much anywhere… Stare into nothing. Don’t stare at anyone.



  • Bump into no one. I bumped into someone with my suitcase and for a second I honestly thought she was going to get out of her chair and “challenge” me. Instead she just grumbled something not understandable.



  • Carry with you as little as possible. The smaller the handbag the better and easier it is to put it under your pillow or hold onto while you sleep.

  • Don’t assume anything about anyone. Last night a woman seemed perfectly nice and this morning she was practically asking for a fight with anyone willing to yell back at her.



  • Say nothing, do nothing, be nothing that can mark you as a target - its about survival. 

When I left the shelter the street looked like a Hollywood setup for a apocalyptic type scene. An ideal set for the TV show Jeremiah. I literately pray I can survive until Monday without upsetting someone, attracting someone and or just marking myself in some way.

Just like prison

But you don’t have to break the law.

NOTE: Because I couldn't get online last night I'm posting this in two different blog postings to break up the length. 

My exit took longer than it was suppose to and longer than it should have. The train was also half an hour late. Because of this I missed the unknown to me closing time which I wasn’t told about. So until Monday I am at the worst of the worst emergency shelters. The place is miserable and scary and depressing and I don’t think even Hollywood could make it look as bleak as it really is. I have never been to prison but I imagine this is a nicer version of it and I don't know if I really can live in Skid Row... I don't know if I can really do have what it takes.

I don’t know if I am THIS strong.


The front door is staffed by an armed security guard who has to buzz you into the complex. Once you’re in you precede to the office…a hole in the wall on the other side of a “Day Lounge.” The day lounge is filled to the brim with female entities that probably haven’t seen better days since they were children. Some watch whatever drool is playing on the TV, others are chatting with others while some are threatening whoever walks by or looks at them. But most are staring into the nothingness.

Securing a bed is much like checking into the ER but with different questions.
Name
Age
Children
Diseases
Mental illness
Medication
Can you sleep on a top bunk without falling off?
How many have fallen off?

After being issued a bed number and told to wait until 8pm to be called to bed women already start to line up for the 6:30pm dinner call. Women line up as early as an hour prior to the feeding. As you enter the cafeteria a larger banner greets you and says
“Jesus loves you.”

Really? I don’t want his love. Personally I’m trying to quite abusive “loving” partners that neglect those they say they love and then serves them misery. So if this is his way of showing me some love, he should just back the $#@! Off.

The line continues past Jesus’ declaration of love where you accept your medical lime green tray of edible substance. The potatoes like substance were pale tan and tastes between squash and what I imagine prison food to taste like. There was something fried that I later overheard was supposed to be egg rolls. They did have shredded edible stuff so I guess thats what they were. The only thing that looked and tasted like it was suppose to was the small pile of salad with hidden salad dressing. At least I hope it was salad dressing. The rice, well, rice isn’t too difficult to 'make' so it looked right… like a mountain from Whoville. Except the mountain was white & the snow was black… and I was grateful for the free food.

Bathrooms in the “Day Lounge” – If walls could talk these would be scared silent, I was. But at least I know where to go for an easy drug purchase.

Soon after dinner and precisely as your ready to return to staring into the nothingness the one man religious concert starts up = Fire & Brimstone – Rock on!

…and there I sat. Wondering when my next shower would be. Whether or not I’ll be able to change my clothes tonight for bed or even the next day. Wondering what the Hell had I done to deserve this fate? Is this my punishment for settling with men I knew deep down were damaged and would do me harm? Settling with less because I didn’t think I deserved more? Never again. If I survive this, no one will ever be able to offer me anything that I can’t provide myself.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Into The Skid

Skid Row, here I come.


Well………

Trauma Queen was kicked out while I was gone and took with her most of my socks, two of my bras, some of my quality makeup and all of my personal hygiene items. :/
Thankfully the shelter I’m at now replaced some of the items :)


After a lot of consideration, deep thinking and making a list of strengths, features, negatives, goals and wants I was offered and accepted the transitional housing program in Skid Row. It offers the best chance for me to get back on my feet and a chance for a life three times better then it was before. I’m only publishing it because, well, this should be interesting.

I leave this afternoon.


Thursday, August 26, 2010













I contacted Beyond Lazy and was told they're not a shelter. He didn't say what he was so I thought I had the wrong number and hung up. I contacted and made sure I had the right contact..yep.


"We're not a shelter."

"Maybe I misunderstood. I visited your website and assumed you help with transitional housing programs?"

"I am sorry, but we are not a shelter program."

If your not a shelter...what are you and why does your website say Beyond Shelter and use the words help and homeless if you don't HELP the HOMELESS? 

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

BUSTED

Fool me once but you won't fool me trice.



Trauma Queen got back from the hospital again and verbally attacked again...my roommate this time. Except this time I was ready. I recorded her. After I started the recording I went to the staff on duty. One which was her Case Manager, and told both atendees "we have a situation happening."


I than gave a copy to the staff.


I have no doubt that our Case Manager let her know I recorded her - good.

Determination is EVERYTHING

It may be hard, but obstacles can be shoved out of the way.


I have been asking repeatedly for my "Case Manager" to call transitional housing programs in Los Angeles. Each time I'm told its not available for one reason or anther. I don't think the shelter I'm at wants to refer me to Los Angeles shelters. I've asked and asked and then I'm pressured to the X shelters where I haven't even be sniffed at by employers locally. Well I have a job interview tomorrow in Los Angeles. I told my "Case Manager" and was given a slightly dirty look when I made it subtly clear that if I was hired I would not give it up...that any transnational housing program I go to will have to be willing to help me with transportation to the job. Even if it is only until my first check.


Yes, I am being stubborn and selfish. Locally, I have filled out much more then a dozen paper and electronic job applications for jobs that no one over 25 should be applying for. I have sent more then 40 resumes this month alone for jobs. Not a single local employer has emailed or called me. I've placed resume website ads, I scan all the major job websites, use business network websites and I've applied to the county government job program. Yes, I would / will probably be approved. But even that program would not supply a potential job or job leads for at least three weeks. Even then there is no guarantee I would make more then minimum wage in a job that would actually help me advance back into a career and not just a means of existing. I've sent resumes throughout the Los Angeles area and have received a couple of emails, a couple of calls and now an interview. What would you do?


I even let my roommate convince me that the transitional housing program she will probably go to should be considered by me... the transitional housing program that I said is too close to my ex. I said I would consider it as long as I was not required to apply to jobs within five miles of his work. After pressuring me to go there, they now seem unwilling to refer me - WTF?! Because my roommate is going there? Are they now trying to pressure Trauma Queen out of the shelter and onto them to deal with? The transitional housing program is very work mandatory based. She doesn't want a job - I DO!


I understand that it is not the shelter's job to supply me with anything more then a route away from my abusive ex. I understand that they're only requirement is to help me locate the next step - a transitional housing program...and that is all. I get it.  It is my job and only my responsibility to provide anything and everything else beyond that. But why would I step out of the gutter just to step into a path that won't help me nearly as much as another that is only slightly harder to reach?


They are now back to pressuring me again to go to a shelter further away from where the jobs are and are very strict due to drug addicts they give shelter to. I'M NOT A ADDICT ...and I should not be treated like one because they give shelter to drug addicts. That is why I didn't want to go to that shelter. I want a job that can help me secure a future. Is that too much to ask for? Do these agencies get bonus points for keeping shelter residents local? I don't care! I want what is best for me and if that means I cannot be tracked as a statistic that is just too damn bad.


My roommate is loaning me the money for the Metrolink fare so I can go to my interview. AND I finally secured an appt with the transnational housing program that has (I believe) great transitional housing programs and resources. I had to leave several messages and my last one practicably begging for an appointment because I have an interview nearby...but I got it. 

HA!


... and one of the LA transnational housing program shelters (which I won't name publicly) is a $*@!ing joke! Before they allow you into their shelter you have to have 90 days of employment.  Emergency shelters are only 30 days maximum length...If your homeless, chances are you don't have a $*@!ing job!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

What is it?

I'm wondering if the unsecured network I'm using is not just one from a local resident (or business) but one directly connected to the shelter. I wouldn’t be surprised. With my barely entry level limited knowledge of networking it is possible to view where computers go (online)…hence if the network I’m using is theirs they could indeed see my blog.

Let me clarify what this blog is.

It’s a place for me to rant, rave, think and just "talk." It's much like a journal but it's a blog. I know anyone can read it if they find it.

I would never be this honest in a blog where my name is publicly displayed. So yes, I'm pretty much saying (writing) almost anything I'm thinking or feeling. I'm not making it up nor am I adding to it as any good story teller does. In fact I'm leaving out some bits because it's either irrelevant or not worth mentioning. Why? Because it's either too boring to even write about or it's trivial and would look worse on me for going on and on about just how much she annoys me. Plus, I'm done. She is truly her own worst enemy and nothing I could say could match the harm she is doing to herself...and no I don't want her to be harmed. I want her to wallflower exist until at least I’m out of here.


I genuinely do feel bad for the shelter who cannot morally tell her to find a transitional housing program (move out.) She is damaged physically, emotionally and mentally. But that does not mean she has a right or a defense for causing me or any other resident stress. Obviously I can be selfish and yes I am indeed being selfish now. I have less than one week left here and I do not want to push the shelter in allowing me extra time. I want to move out, move on and move forward. I want the best possible transitional program I can get accepted into. I have not so typical goals (not dreams) that I want and in order to accomplish those goals I have to be 100% self-sufficient. So am I being a bit selfish? Absolutely.


Being any kind of staff member of a shelter is stressful. Just try to imagine having a minimum of five women coming to you constantly, asking for something or pouring out their daily stress. This zaps a lot of energy from people. The women who work here do try hard and do a lot to not only do their job but really care. I believe that even my Case Manager cares and does not intentionally mean to not help me. In fact I believes she  thinks she is doing what is best but doesn’t understand that by doing nothing she is doing negative. I don’t know. No one can really know all the circumstances that influence someone to chose or not chose choices in their daily lives. Then again she is only now showing that maybe she did listen to what I said and sees that even though I am tech / research capable I cant do it all.

SO

Do I have some grievances? Of course. Can I completely blame the staff for things that happen between residents? No, they can only do so much. Whenever you have a group of people from various backgrounds and experiences, the dynamics are bound to sway negatively at least once in a while.

On the other hand I'm upset that it seems no one here seems to understand why I don't want to take even a minimal chance in running into my ex or my ex seeing me on the street. The Metrolink station stop location is at the interception of the highway exit he exits from to go to the office. No one here (staff) has ever asked me what happened. No one knows how he attacked me, why he attacked or even if there is a chance he would again if he saw me...never been asked "is he dangerous? I mean... is this a domestic violence shelter or a "I had an argument with my boyfriend and I don't want to live with him anymore" shelter?

By reason of being a Trauma Queen

Because she is a basket case I’m the one being told to back off (even though I already have) and be a bigger person? I’m really sick of being a bigger person and told “just in case, don’t say or respond to anything Trauma Queen says.”  Why should I be the one to step back even farther when I am not even saying anything to her now?

So if she comes up to me? I am to back down even more?
If she says anything to me I am to continue NOT saying anything to her?
Gee… if she comes at me with a knife is it ok to defend myself or should I just let the crazy bitch stab me to prove I’m the bigger person?

Waiting for my slow ass internet connection to connect to my Blogger account - 30 minutes later… waiting for the shower anyways.


The new woman is annoyed already with her new accommodations – namely Trauma Queen as a roommate. She wants to put the few belongs she now has away in drawers and hang up in the closet and Trauma Queen is sleeping. Probably shouldn’t have but I warned her that she should probably just get dressed because her roommate sleeps until the afternoon.


Trauma Queen really annoys me. I don’t ask for much and in fact have asked for only three things since I have been here. Bus tokens for job hunting, personal hygiene / personal items and for my case manager to make calls on my behalf when I cannot.

Trauma Queen on the other hand constantly asks (whines) for help every single day.
Will you please vacuum my room?
Make me a grilled sandwich
Can you help me find an X
Can I have X from the pantry (almost a daily need from there.)

I feel lonely, sad, mad, glad or any other trauma / drama feely word and spends at least thrifty minutes talking about why the color yellow makes her feel sad…

WTF!?

I’m getting frustrated and pissed off because I’m working my ass off trying to get me out of this place and take a step towards a better future for me and I feel like I’m being made to feel like I’m doing something wrong. GEE , maybe this is the reason DV women start doing drugs!

Monday, August 23, 2010

They never stop coming...

Anther new addition to the house
Another woman
Another story
Another victim
Another beginning for someone new

Why?


Why do we do it? Why do we stay until it's too late?
Why do we chose them?
Why do we have babies with them?
Why do we stare at the new person wondering what her story is?

We already know what it is.

No suitcase
No jacket
Just a baby carrier and (now) a single mom in pajamas.

Tonight the woman are as different as a Farmer's Market - what you would expect...and yet it never is.


***************************



Rain - Patty Griffin

Strange how hard it rains now



Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain 

True Blood

Explaining True blood and why I laughed during the scene when the preacher was on national TV was a bit difficult. My roommate has never heard of and therefore never seen the show. I find the parallel moments of fiction and reality morbidly funny.

Vampire Terrorist – an individual that doesn’t represent all vampires
Conservative Bible thumping Vampire Hater – preaching that the vampires have shown their evilness

Sound familiar?

I stopped my show (I watch True Blood online) and I explained the premises of the show as best I could. Trying to explain the humorous side of what I believed to be the writers taking real life and exchanging the names and characters only is amusing to me.


This led to a serious discussion about how much America has changed since 9/11 and how anyone different is looked at with suspicion and even scorn. This is especially true for anyone of the Middle East…and how sad it is that so many Americans regardless of color, race, culture or religion has chosen to stay afraid. That so many have chosen to give up precious rights for government control in the name of freedom. I’m not saying that strict security shouldn’t exist. However, the ideology that if you have nothing to hide, then you have no reason to NOT allow the government into every aspect of your life is simply misguided and wrong.


But I couldn’t allow the conversation to stay so serious and sad… so I brought out the comedian in me and almost made her choke on her food a couple of times. With peanut gallery comments / editorials, I told her about the silly and sadly true conspiracy theories some believe about Jews…

  • They’re from out of space
  • They’re the ones who stole the Twin Towers and are hiding them
  • They possess precious Jew Gold that is more valuable then common gold


Then I told her about Achmed the Dead Terrorist and how it never said Female Virgins “Holy Crap!”
…and I finished with an introduction to The Darwin Awards

She laughed and laughed and I think it was good for her to just let in a little silliness.


Balls To The Wall

That’s the saying



...that is what my social worker friend tells me I must do and I did. My “Case Manager” started pushing me to yet again consider and go to the transitional housing program that is five miles from where my abusive ex boyfriend occasionally works. I was shocked and even angry as was evident as my voice speed increased. But I kept my balls to the wall and insisted that if he saw me on the street in the area he was not going to be safe and happy to see me. I saw and heard that I got my point across as she sighed heavily and then proceeded to give me a live in housing exchange. I thought wow… maybe she was really going to give me something of value – no. The live in exchange is in the rural redwood forests.

How the bloody &*$! am I to get a job in a rural area when I cannot even get one in an area with more than five hundred thousand people? I said I would think about it and I did; angrily. Then I calmed down and went back to her, stood my ground and said (paraphrasing)

The reason I want to go to X is because it has a wonderful program that truly helps everyone in the program. It has employment assistance, new training skills, medical, housing assistance and support, support groups and counseling. I don’t just need someone to help me get a job and a new apartment or even a shared apartment. I need someone to help me help myself. I keep making the same abusive choices again and again and I need to stop it. I need support and a mentor type person to help me stay on the right path and stay away from negative people and abusive men. I can’t get that at a homeless shelter or a rural location. X or even X offers everything I need to help me help myself…otherwise I’m just going to end up back at another domestic violence shelter again in a couple of years.

I think this time she heard me… I think this time she listened.

She may be trying to push me out for Trauma Queen's sake but I don't care. Trauma Queen is not my concern and I will not allow her to get in my way. After I finished, she said the program sounded like a good program and she picked up the phone to call the transitional housing program.


Push the limit, go all out, full speed ahead - "Balls to the wall"





I think that my roommate wishes I would go to the same transitional housing program as her... I actually wish I could. But it's the one that is way too close to my ex. We get along well and her kids listen to me. They're not use to listening to mom as a diplinary figure as dad made them afraid to do any wrong and mom was a protector not a defender. 

I do wish I could.... but as much as I care about her and wish her well I have to be selfish in this. 

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sink or Swim

The Beautiful People


Knowing I have two distinctively different choices that each present just enough to get started, how do you choose? Each location will be difficult offering something the other doesn’t but not offering something the other does not. For me the key difference so far is jobs. Can I and will I get a job in that location? This situation is causing me stress and the sooner it's over, I choose, a choice is made for me - the sooner I can leave this situation and begin a new one… start building something.

Calm down, my heart - don't beat so fast
Don't be afraid, just once in a lifetime

I keep coming back to Los Angeles because at least it is in the general area of where I can pursue long term goals. I want to be part of genuine communal living community. A place where everyone in the house took part of the long application process to be part of something they understand is a hive way of living.

There are very few diverse opportunities available in this area or the surrounding rural areas. Though I love the peacefulness of the smaller areas, my spirit races with the diversity of city life. Then again I feel like I'm in rehab and I can't help but wonder if an addict (of negative people) such as myself should so quickly throw herself in to that which put her in this situation... sink or swim?

Can I handle it this time?
Am I ready?
Do I even want to?

Build the foundation that is the key. Build the foundation and the rest (of my goals and desires) will be easier to obtain.


I'm discovering that there is another staff member (Case Manager?) who appears to really want to help me. Maybe because I'm hiding between my earphones now. But she made a pont to come see from at the kitchen table first before even checking into the office.

Asking me how my job hunt was going, if I needed anything from the shelter storage and how I was. I'm tired of wearing my mask so I told her the truth - I wish I had a different Case Manager. Maybe not the smartest move but I'm too tire to lie / be politically nice.

She says she'll look for jobs for me as well and we discussed why I'm having such a hard time landing an interview. My qualifications are getting old, I can't use a couple of my online network websites (because of my ex) and I'm not able to update my skills with college / training.

Sometimes just listening - genuinely caring is enough.

Five Miles Too Close

The only transitional housing program my "Case Manager" wants me to go to is 5 miles (9 minutes) from where my ex has weekly business (goes to) and she has been told this.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

I looked up the the office compared to the housing location and it is nine minutes away and in an area where I would be looking for jobs. There is no way I am going to allow this lazy worker to 'place' me in a situation where there is even a slight chance I may run into him.

THAT is ridiculous.



I'm now seriously questioning my Case Manager’s qualifications in being a Case Manager. The rest of the staff is pretty friendly though. The case Manager I mentioned previously  is a gem. She goes out of her way to help anyone who needs help. However, I have to wonder why did my 'Case Manager' take this job?

Did she think it would be easy?
Was it luck?
Did she lose interest and burn out on what she thought it would be?
Did she have no other job options?


I'm seriously questioning my own ideas of following through with being a Social Worker after the Trauma Queen experience. I simply do not have the patients to deal with people who constantly cause themselves trauma, drama or stress - i.e. they do nothing to help themselves and only instead incite more problems into they're lives.

I've been told I would be a wonderful Social Worker - would I really?