All my life I've been that strange person who gives compliments to people I don't even know if I like their shirt. And very consistently I've noticed an interesting trend- if you compliment someone on their shirt, they stare at you with a very peculiar look on their face, which I've taken to interpreting as "WHAT? Did someone just... compliment me? WTF?"
The reason I say this is I walk around the city a lot, every day, and before that I've been in other social settings where I simply do not ever see someone getting complimented. It's strange. It's as if our polite veneer over society is slipping. This really bothers me. I ran into a teacher at my last job because at the time I was in the town I grew up in who said that she remembered me solely because I was the most polite kid she had ever met. I blushed, because it was surprising and almost uncomfortable, but I got over it.
That does raise a point though. How many times do you compliment people if you like their shirt/skirt/pants/suit/etc? How often do you get complimented by strangers? And I emphasize the strangers part, because friends are far more likely to tell you they like your clothing than a stranger. Why? Probably because of fear. People, pardon me if I seem wrong to you, seem to have a fear of the unknown, and we're getting far more paranoid of simple niceness. I really want to try to nip this in the bud, and at least try to solve the problem a little at a time. Perhaps it could all start with a simple compliment. Not everyone likes compliments, though I don't know why..It seems to me that it would be a good thing.
I personally compliment about 10 people a day, give or take. It all depends on who I see, and I have actually paused multiple conversations to just say "I like your shirt" or shortened it to "Nice shirt". I like making people's days a little bit better. It's not that hard. If you like the color, the style, the sheer boldness/attitude of it.. whatever, just compliment them. I really hope this takes off, I'd like to see a better mood. And it does often make their day a little brighter, even if it doesn't register at the time.
NOTE I don't mean for this to turn into a "I complimented you, you have to compliment me" thing, or anything actually resembling a war in that manner. Just making a record of that.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Social Anxiety
This is something I've noticed of quite a few people that I've met, both out here and just in general. I'm not alone in it. I've met many people who are uncomfortable in crowds, and I don't think it's nearly as rare or strange as we think. Everything we are, all our traits, problems, etc, we are never alone in them no matter how much we may feel it. There are 6.6 billion people on this planet, give or take, and while it may be a depressing viewpoint to most, I find it strangely inspiring to realize that I'm not alone, and that I'm NOT really all that special, because all of us are. People like to believe they're special and unique, and in some ways it's true. But BECAUSE of the simple fact that everyone is a unique blend of various traits in varying degrees, NO ONE is truly special.
And to me, in a way I can't fully articulate, that makes me feel better when I'm depressed. This is one of the (I really hope) few times I'll allow myself to go on a tangent, and the reason I am is because this really matters to me down to a core level. Whenever people get that attitude of "I matter more than you do because of ________", I really have to hide my thoughts. My immediate response is essentially along the lines of "You are one in 6.6 billion CURRENT humans on this very small planet in this extremely vast universe, which is unlikely to be alone in existence since it is EXPANDING. (I know, I use caps lock to emphasize. I'm lazy, sue me <3). The very idea that we are utterly alone, the only intelligent life to ever exist in this universe, is so absurd, it's not even insulting. It's basically humorous. Yes, the person wasn't precisely saying that, but if you think of the universe in terms of sheer vastness, it's highly likely that there are more amazing, beautiful, intelligent races out there than ourselves.
All of us matter, in a way, simply because each of us holds others in check and keeps the very shaky balance of our continued existence in line. To me, every life is beautiful and precious. However, when someone doesn't use that potential, and has no craving to better themselves or even act as they are capable of acting in a beneficial manner and instead chooses to be a dramatic whiny twat, it annoys me greatly.
Thus somewhat neatly bringing me back to the subject of this blog. Now that you know the terms on which I prefer to think (Universally rather than in small pieces), you may understand my version of social anxiety.
Currently, as I believe I said once before, I am living in a shelter. The blogs I type are generally typed up on Jason's laptop, or at the library, but generally Jason's laptop. I am trying to find work, I have nearly completed JRT, and will be looking for work this week. AKA that's me not wanting you to go oh, great, another useless member of society or something and click x. ANYWAY..
Dealing with the homeless youth of downtown Portland is extremely aggravating for me. It's akin to dealing with people in 6th to 8th grade in many ways. And in some ways, worse. Some aren't so bad, but some can be. Going to the day programs to eat, because my food stamps ran out, I have to wait in line cafeteria style feeling trapped against a wall by the other 50+ people squished into one room. Most of what they talk about has to do with music, how awesome they are, how they're going to beat someone's ass, or other stuff along those lines. I yearn for intellectual conversation, and thus this blog came forth.
The reason I've been very worried and leery about getting a customer service job is that I don't deal well with stupid people. And I don't mean stupid in the way that they are incapable of learning, I mean the ones who don't try and do not want to. Walking into a crowded room is like walking into an explosive minefield that suddenly bursts into flames as soon as you step close. It feels hot and uncomfortable, and I begin to feel trapped. Most people who have social anxiety get in some way scared. They tend to feel panicky and want to run. I get that, but I don't get scared. I get the AHH lots of people and within 3 seconds every time it shifts to AHHH PEOPLE... LEAVE ME ALONE in the aggressive don't talk to me way.
Needless to say, I have two friends in the entire continuum. What a surprise. Social anxiety is not a pleasant experience. It starts with a feeling of being backed against a wall, and then you start to notice that your chest hurts. It feels like you've been punched in the chest and it's difficult to breathe. Often times, I have to leave the room until the noise dies down. Perhaps for most it has nothing to do with the noise, but the noise somehow makes it worse. Possibly the fact that it's so loud, and there are people always moving, and it's very chaotic.. I honestly don't know.
But the reason I'm posting this is to let people know that they're not alone. Even the friends that don't show it have told me they get the same feeling, or something similar.
We live in an age of gamers, of people who are comfortable sitting in front of a computer screen for hours, days at a time, and need less social interaction. Perhaps it's not so strange after all.. That doesn't make it pleasant.
Yeah this was a very randomly put blog, it seemed to suit the subject, if it wasn't held together well enough to understand the point, I'm sorry. :(
And to me, in a way I can't fully articulate, that makes me feel better when I'm depressed. This is one of the (I really hope) few times I'll allow myself to go on a tangent, and the reason I am is because this really matters to me down to a core level. Whenever people get that attitude of "I matter more than you do because of ________", I really have to hide my thoughts. My immediate response is essentially along the lines of "You are one in 6.6 billion CURRENT humans on this very small planet in this extremely vast universe, which is unlikely to be alone in existence since it is EXPANDING. (I know, I use caps lock to emphasize. I'm lazy, sue me <3). The very idea that we are utterly alone, the only intelligent life to ever exist in this universe, is so absurd, it's not even insulting. It's basically humorous. Yes, the person wasn't precisely saying that, but if you think of the universe in terms of sheer vastness, it's highly likely that there are more amazing, beautiful, intelligent races out there than ourselves.
All of us matter, in a way, simply because each of us holds others in check and keeps the very shaky balance of our continued existence in line. To me, every life is beautiful and precious. However, when someone doesn't use that potential, and has no craving to better themselves or even act as they are capable of acting in a beneficial manner and instead chooses to be a dramatic whiny twat, it annoys me greatly.
Thus somewhat neatly bringing me back to the subject of this blog. Now that you know the terms on which I prefer to think (Universally rather than in small pieces), you may understand my version of social anxiety.
Currently, as I believe I said once before, I am living in a shelter. The blogs I type are generally typed up on Jason's laptop, or at the library, but generally Jason's laptop. I am trying to find work, I have nearly completed JRT, and will be looking for work this week. AKA that's me not wanting you to go oh, great, another useless member of society or something and click x. ANYWAY..
Dealing with the homeless youth of downtown Portland is extremely aggravating for me. It's akin to dealing with people in 6th to 8th grade in many ways. And in some ways, worse. Some aren't so bad, but some can be. Going to the day programs to eat, because my food stamps ran out, I have to wait in line cafeteria style feeling trapped against a wall by the other 50+ people squished into one room. Most of what they talk about has to do with music, how awesome they are, how they're going to beat someone's ass, or other stuff along those lines. I yearn for intellectual conversation, and thus this blog came forth.
The reason I've been very worried and leery about getting a customer service job is that I don't deal well with stupid people. And I don't mean stupid in the way that they are incapable of learning, I mean the ones who don't try and do not want to. Walking into a crowded room is like walking into an explosive minefield that suddenly bursts into flames as soon as you step close. It feels hot and uncomfortable, and I begin to feel trapped. Most people who have social anxiety get in some way scared. They tend to feel panicky and want to run. I get that, but I don't get scared. I get the AHH lots of people and within 3 seconds every time it shifts to AHHH PEOPLE... LEAVE ME ALONE in the aggressive don't talk to me way.
Needless to say, I have two friends in the entire continuum. What a surprise. Social anxiety is not a pleasant experience. It starts with a feeling of being backed against a wall, and then you start to notice that your chest hurts. It feels like you've been punched in the chest and it's difficult to breathe. Often times, I have to leave the room until the noise dies down. Perhaps for most it has nothing to do with the noise, but the noise somehow makes it worse. Possibly the fact that it's so loud, and there are people always moving, and it's very chaotic.. I honestly don't know.
But the reason I'm posting this is to let people know that they're not alone. Even the friends that don't show it have told me they get the same feeling, or something similar.
We live in an age of gamers, of people who are comfortable sitting in front of a computer screen for hours, days at a time, and need less social interaction. Perhaps it's not so strange after all.. That doesn't make it pleasant.
Yeah this was a very randomly put blog, it seemed to suit the subject, if it wasn't held together well enough to understand the point, I'm sorry. :(
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Gender Binary System
Ah, the gender binary system. This one may get some nasty responses, but I don't care. Scientifically we are all comprised of both "female" and "male" dna. We're all genetic hybrids all the way down from the first children, assuming that there ever was "pure male" and "pure female" DNA. You're a splice of your mother and father, who are a splice of their mother and father, etc. When you're born, your body is a bizarre thing that for some reason grows to maturity into a recognizable shape to everyone else. Somehow your cells know how to build themselves.. That doesn't mean that it matches how you feel, or how you think, etc.
We are not inherantly male or female. The mind is a magnificent, complex thing. So are human emotions. You can't expect someone who was born into a physically female or physically male body to automatically feel what society thinks you should feel like- what society believes male and female to mean. There are not just two genders, a plus and a minus. There are many ways of viewing it, and putting names on it only shrinks the importance of how other people feel.
It can happen many ways, it's not necessarily a chemical thing in the brain, though it could be. It could be anything from the internal war of nature vs nurture, of their personality vs their past, of them fighting something that happened or was said to them so many times that it just caused a reaction, or it could simply be who they are.
Take me for example. I don't know when I started to feel as I do now, but I know that when I was 12 to 18 I lived with my father, who I love very much to this day, who was a sexist prick when he was drunk. The amount of filth I heard about women was astronomical, and mixed with what I was learning about in school and finding out from books, it caused a reverse reaction in me. For years when I masturbated (Yes, I admit I masturbate. It happens :P) I envisioned myself only in the male side because for so many years my father had unwittingly trained me to believe men are stronger and better than women. It led to an internal war that has lasted even to this day, over 7 years from when I first remember feeling the war, and still wages on inside my mind. I don't know what is winning, but I do hope it's me.
My mind has felt like a battlefield since I was 14 years old. My father's unwitting "training" vs my belief that men are the scum of the earth ((Which was a response to attempt to balance it out)) shifted to a disgust for all things sexual that lasted for a few years. Now, I don't even know. I still have times when just hearing certain things about sex, I can't even tell you what, but primarily people telling me too much information about their personal lives is like someone lighting my hair on fire. I suddenly get filled with an extreme amount of rage and have to walk away.
On the other hand, I have a relationship now, and while we haven't had sex, I think he is the only person I will ever enjoy having it with.
But to get back to the gender binary system that this blog was originally about... I don't feel feminine all the time. I have my moments where I like skirts and dresses and dressing female, and my times where I'd rather not have breasts and a vagina and would rather wear a suit, cut my hair even shorter, and dress like a "man".
I tend to sit sprawled out as most males do, because it is more comfortable to me. I'm more blunt than most people I meet, and I don't mind it. I find both males and females attractive, but have never met a female I'd consider worth dating. Who we like and what we like and how wel ike to dress and what we like to do has nothing to do with our plumbing- That could have been miswired when the cells were expanding from the egg and the sperm. Having a vagina doesn't make you all female any more than having a penis makes you a man. The person within this shell of a body is what matters, not the shell itself.
YOU matter. Not your weird bits and pieces.
We are not inherantly male or female. The mind is a magnificent, complex thing. So are human emotions. You can't expect someone who was born into a physically female or physically male body to automatically feel what society thinks you should feel like- what society believes male and female to mean. There are not just two genders, a plus and a minus. There are many ways of viewing it, and putting names on it only shrinks the importance of how other people feel.
It can happen many ways, it's not necessarily a chemical thing in the brain, though it could be. It could be anything from the internal war of nature vs nurture, of their personality vs their past, of them fighting something that happened or was said to them so many times that it just caused a reaction, or it could simply be who they are.
Take me for example. I don't know when I started to feel as I do now, but I know that when I was 12 to 18 I lived with my father, who I love very much to this day, who was a sexist prick when he was drunk. The amount of filth I heard about women was astronomical, and mixed with what I was learning about in school and finding out from books, it caused a reverse reaction in me. For years when I masturbated (Yes, I admit I masturbate. It happens :P) I envisioned myself only in the male side because for so many years my father had unwittingly trained me to believe men are stronger and better than women. It led to an internal war that has lasted even to this day, over 7 years from when I first remember feeling the war, and still wages on inside my mind. I don't know what is winning, but I do hope it's me.
My mind has felt like a battlefield since I was 14 years old. My father's unwitting "training" vs my belief that men are the scum of the earth ((Which was a response to attempt to balance it out)) shifted to a disgust for all things sexual that lasted for a few years. Now, I don't even know. I still have times when just hearing certain things about sex, I can't even tell you what, but primarily people telling me too much information about their personal lives is like someone lighting my hair on fire. I suddenly get filled with an extreme amount of rage and have to walk away.
On the other hand, I have a relationship now, and while we haven't had sex, I think he is the only person I will ever enjoy having it with.
But to get back to the gender binary system that this blog was originally about... I don't feel feminine all the time. I have my moments where I like skirts and dresses and dressing female, and my times where I'd rather not have breasts and a vagina and would rather wear a suit, cut my hair even shorter, and dress like a "man".
I tend to sit sprawled out as most males do, because it is more comfortable to me. I'm more blunt than most people I meet, and I don't mind it. I find both males and females attractive, but have never met a female I'd consider worth dating. Who we like and what we like and how wel ike to dress and what we like to do has nothing to do with our plumbing- That could have been miswired when the cells were expanding from the egg and the sperm. Having a vagina doesn't make you all female any more than having a penis makes you a man. The person within this shell of a body is what matters, not the shell itself.
YOU matter. Not your weird bits and pieces.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
The System is beyond broken
Yes, I use System capitalized, because by this time it basically does have a mind of its own. A terrifying thought indeed. Allow me to explain my thoughts before you respond, please. I've heard every single person I have ever met and held a medium, and sometimes even vague five minute conversation with, use the term system as a thing, something omnipotent and far beyond our control.
Sadly and terrifyingly, in some ways this is very true. It's not because the system really DOES have some huge tall skinny white guy named Uncle Sam behind it, the thing that's really scary is that it has done so on its own, with slight help from the people who have the capability to change even small rules and regulations.
The example I'll be using is the homeless youth system of shelters and day programs etc. I live in Portland, Oregon. I'm an observer of such things as human behavior patterns, systems that work and are broken and are all interwoven, and society in general.
Where to begin... That's always the problem with me. By the time I get to typing about it I'm already so annoyed that I don't even know where to start. My fury drives me on. I will however try my best to describe. I see things as images half the time in my mind, and the system is like a huge conglomerate puzzle-like factory that has been blown up, shattered, and pieced back together in a very fragmented and jumbled way that still has pieces inside moving so badly that even common passersby know it doesn't work.
But it's scary to even contemplate fixing it because the general problem is you have NO CLUE where to start. We are raised in this society to believe two things that are polar against each other- That our voice and our vote matters, and that in reality we are only one vote. That vote doesn't matter against the majority.
I won't coddle you or pet you with a feather, it's true. The system is broken, and there's not much you can do to fix it. Quite honestly, in my observation, given its current status, and this does sadden me, I don't think it CAN be saved. I believe this is one of those times where you have to destroy something for it to be fixed because you have to start from the ground up. And no, I don't have any plans to destroy it. I don't think I will need to, but that's another story for either later today or perhaps tomorrow...
Right now I'm going to get personal. Honestly, I have social anxiety disorder. Pills are not nor will they ever be the answer- yet again, another topic. My brain likes to go on tangents, I'm trying to keep it in check. Having social anxiety disorder, and being a deeper thinker than everyone you're around 24 hours a day 7 days a week is extremely frustrating in the long run. I pride myself on my self control. I truly do. If it wasn't for my sheer ability to keep my anger in, I probably would have hit someone before now out of pure frustration.
The system is broken. I can understand the logic at the core, how it should work, but it's been broken by people abusing it. It's tragic, but true. The system is broken because the people are broken, and more people are breaking because the broken system is rolling right over them, leaving shrapnel in their back.
I guess I will start from the beginning of my story(ish). My third day out here, I met a very interesting guy who had seen me several times in two days. I say interesting because he must have had 30 piercings and tattoos on his face, was very tall and skinny, obviously a drug addict, and apparently seemed protective of me. He was very intoxicated and in retrospect probably higher than some clouds, and was insistent to a girl he knew that "I GET SOMEWHERE SAFE!"
I'm 5'4 and 120 lb. It was very sweet, if slightly disturbing at the time. The girl was a pretty cool girl I've only seen twice since. She's probably long left Portland. She brought me to Porchlight. Ahh, Porchlight..
That's what got me started to where I am now. I found out that there was an emergency crisis center, and she brought me there and made sure I'd get up that night. I got upstairs, met my best friend who I had seen earlier in the day, and the next morning talked to one of the people who ran the place at 9 the next morning about my situation.
Porchlight is the crappier version of Streetlight, where I am staying now. In Porchlight you have a couple more freedoms- you can come in up until 6 am or leave when you arrive after eating without using any credits, and you only have 15 nights you are allowed to stay there.
Talking to the guy, I found out that according to the law, I have been considered homeless or at risk for homelessness for approximately 3 years. So, I was eligible for the program that Porchlight was part of- the Janus Youth Continuum.
They sent me to OI and I was then confused. I waited for about a week or two for a caseworker and began to realize a few things. One, sleeping on those mats is basically the same as sleeping on concrete, two there are bugs, three, half the people there are addicts, convicts, or otherwise creepy people you should stay away from, and there is NO stability. Finally though a week later I got a caseworker and a week after that I managed to get on the streetlight list to get upstairs.
That is where I have been for the last 2 months. Upstairs of Porchlight. It's a more stable shelter where you can stay as long as you follow the rules, do their little chores, etc. There are slightly better mattresses, you can clean your clothes, you can go to the clothing closet once a week and you have a locker.
However, the people upstairs were also once in Porchlight, not all of them were interested in bettering themselves. Finding underwear on the floor, toilets not flushed, stuff in the bathroom and showers, and having really rude people sharing a room with you is something you have to get used to.
Now we get into more personal stuff. Getting back to the social anxiety disorder, I get fidgety in crowds in tight spaces. Understandable, the main problem is the noise. It's very chaotic. I grew up as an only child and my parents were either ignoring me or screaming at me/trying to convince me to do something they wanted me to. (Don't get me wrong, I love them now as much as I can.) I never had my own room growing up, I grew up poor. Or rather when I was with my mom I had a room but there was no lock. No privacy.
Until this happened I had two jobs, I had an apartment, I had everything. Sure, it was a motel room, but it was MY place. But what happened was because of the social anxiety I was having a harder time at both jobs, and long story short now I need to find more data entry type work.
Now I am living in a bunk bed in a shared room with at least one other person with two bunk beds and 2 sets of lockers squeezed into it. No matter where I go in shelter, I am not allowed to leave, and there is no privacy. If you don't lock the bathroom door, even if your feet are obviously showing in the space between the door and the floor, people will try to open it because they are so self absorbed in their own little lives they don't think about it. They whine about having to wait three seconds for you to wipe and flush. They are solely interested in themselves and most of the time not even in helping themselves out of the situation.
In some ways I do understand why. When life kicks you in the face enough times eventually you just expect it and give up. I don't know what you can do for those people, and it bothers me.
I've almost gotten to that point myself, because I feel trapped and confused. Everywhere you hear "GET A JOB and get out of there then!" Like it's so simple as just walking into a place and coming out with a job in this economy. Like it's simple to do when you have to struggle to find decent interview clothes and have to share one iron with 60 people.
I can't concentrate anymore, unless I have a computer in front of me. I have a panic attack every day, sometimes as many as six and unless I get a job I can't get into trans housing, but if I get a job I won't really need trans housing because I can get a place. What I need is stability, a door on a room that I can shut the world out with to be able to get and maintain a job without having breakdowns. I don't like it. And I have an idea of what to do..
But basically the way the system works is the system won't help you if you don't help yourself, but you're nothing but a number, an expected normality that is believed to be the same as everyone else. The whole thing stinks, and I don't know what to do about it.
My patience for people is at an end, because dealing with the number of homeless youth I see every day, my "peers" in the eyes of Janus, is like having a 24/7 customer service job. And I'm already burned out on it.. I have to leave the day programs right after eating or else a panic attack comes on or I start flipping out at people for being stupid, rude, and immature to each other. I have ended up pacing back and forth across the floor while listening to Korn on my mp3 player from the days of money to avoid punching idiots at shelter. The only thing that helps is this blog, and that's not even a stable commodity. All I can say is FFFFF.
Sadly and terrifyingly, in some ways this is very true. It's not because the system really DOES have some huge tall skinny white guy named Uncle Sam behind it, the thing that's really scary is that it has done so on its own, with slight help from the people who have the capability to change even small rules and regulations.
The example I'll be using is the homeless youth system of shelters and day programs etc. I live in Portland, Oregon. I'm an observer of such things as human behavior patterns, systems that work and are broken and are all interwoven, and society in general.
Where to begin... That's always the problem with me. By the time I get to typing about it I'm already so annoyed that I don't even know where to start. My fury drives me on. I will however try my best to describe. I see things as images half the time in my mind, and the system is like a huge conglomerate puzzle-like factory that has been blown up, shattered, and pieced back together in a very fragmented and jumbled way that still has pieces inside moving so badly that even common passersby know it doesn't work.
But it's scary to even contemplate fixing it because the general problem is you have NO CLUE where to start. We are raised in this society to believe two things that are polar against each other- That our voice and our vote matters, and that in reality we are only one vote. That vote doesn't matter against the majority.
I won't coddle you or pet you with a feather, it's true. The system is broken, and there's not much you can do to fix it. Quite honestly, in my observation, given its current status, and this does sadden me, I don't think it CAN be saved. I believe this is one of those times where you have to destroy something for it to be fixed because you have to start from the ground up. And no, I don't have any plans to destroy it. I don't think I will need to, but that's another story for either later today or perhaps tomorrow...
Right now I'm going to get personal. Honestly, I have social anxiety disorder. Pills are not nor will they ever be the answer- yet again, another topic. My brain likes to go on tangents, I'm trying to keep it in check. Having social anxiety disorder, and being a deeper thinker than everyone you're around 24 hours a day 7 days a week is extremely frustrating in the long run. I pride myself on my self control. I truly do. If it wasn't for my sheer ability to keep my anger in, I probably would have hit someone before now out of pure frustration.
The system is broken. I can understand the logic at the core, how it should work, but it's been broken by people abusing it. It's tragic, but true. The system is broken because the people are broken, and more people are breaking because the broken system is rolling right over them, leaving shrapnel in their back.
I guess I will start from the beginning of my story(ish). My third day out here, I met a very interesting guy who had seen me several times in two days. I say interesting because he must have had 30 piercings and tattoos on his face, was very tall and skinny, obviously a drug addict, and apparently seemed protective of me. He was very intoxicated and in retrospect probably higher than some clouds, and was insistent to a girl he knew that "I GET SOMEWHERE SAFE!"
I'm 5'4 and 120 lb. It was very sweet, if slightly disturbing at the time. The girl was a pretty cool girl I've only seen twice since. She's probably long left Portland. She brought me to Porchlight. Ahh, Porchlight..
That's what got me started to where I am now. I found out that there was an emergency crisis center, and she brought me there and made sure I'd get up that night. I got upstairs, met my best friend who I had seen earlier in the day, and the next morning talked to one of the people who ran the place at 9 the next morning about my situation.
Porchlight is the crappier version of Streetlight, where I am staying now. In Porchlight you have a couple more freedoms- you can come in up until 6 am or leave when you arrive after eating without using any credits, and you only have 15 nights you are allowed to stay there.
Talking to the guy, I found out that according to the law, I have been considered homeless or at risk for homelessness for approximately 3 years. So, I was eligible for the program that Porchlight was part of- the Janus Youth Continuum.
They sent me to OI and I was then confused. I waited for about a week or two for a caseworker and began to realize a few things. One, sleeping on those mats is basically the same as sleeping on concrete, two there are bugs, three, half the people there are addicts, convicts, or otherwise creepy people you should stay away from, and there is NO stability. Finally though a week later I got a caseworker and a week after that I managed to get on the streetlight list to get upstairs.
That is where I have been for the last 2 months. Upstairs of Porchlight. It's a more stable shelter where you can stay as long as you follow the rules, do their little chores, etc. There are slightly better mattresses, you can clean your clothes, you can go to the clothing closet once a week and you have a locker.
However, the people upstairs were also once in Porchlight, not all of them were interested in bettering themselves. Finding underwear on the floor, toilets not flushed, stuff in the bathroom and showers, and having really rude people sharing a room with you is something you have to get used to.
Now we get into more personal stuff. Getting back to the social anxiety disorder, I get fidgety in crowds in tight spaces. Understandable, the main problem is the noise. It's very chaotic. I grew up as an only child and my parents were either ignoring me or screaming at me/trying to convince me to do something they wanted me to. (Don't get me wrong, I love them now as much as I can.) I never had my own room growing up, I grew up poor. Or rather when I was with my mom I had a room but there was no lock. No privacy.
Until this happened I had two jobs, I had an apartment, I had everything. Sure, it was a motel room, but it was MY place. But what happened was because of the social anxiety I was having a harder time at both jobs, and long story short now I need to find more data entry type work.
Now I am living in a bunk bed in a shared room with at least one other person with two bunk beds and 2 sets of lockers squeezed into it. No matter where I go in shelter, I am not allowed to leave, and there is no privacy. If you don't lock the bathroom door, even if your feet are obviously showing in the space between the door and the floor, people will try to open it because they are so self absorbed in their own little lives they don't think about it. They whine about having to wait three seconds for you to wipe and flush. They are solely interested in themselves and most of the time not even in helping themselves out of the situation.
In some ways I do understand why. When life kicks you in the face enough times eventually you just expect it and give up. I don't know what you can do for those people, and it bothers me.
I've almost gotten to that point myself, because I feel trapped and confused. Everywhere you hear "GET A JOB and get out of there then!" Like it's so simple as just walking into a place and coming out with a job in this economy. Like it's simple to do when you have to struggle to find decent interview clothes and have to share one iron with 60 people.
I can't concentrate anymore, unless I have a computer in front of me. I have a panic attack every day, sometimes as many as six and unless I get a job I can't get into trans housing, but if I get a job I won't really need trans housing because I can get a place. What I need is stability, a door on a room that I can shut the world out with to be able to get and maintain a job without having breakdowns. I don't like it. And I have an idea of what to do..
But basically the way the system works is the system won't help you if you don't help yourself, but you're nothing but a number, an expected normality that is believed to be the same as everyone else. The whole thing stinks, and I don't know what to do about it.
My patience for people is at an end, because dealing with the number of homeless youth I see every day, my "peers" in the eyes of Janus, is like having a 24/7 customer service job. And I'm already burned out on it.. I have to leave the day programs right after eating or else a panic attack comes on or I start flipping out at people for being stupid, rude, and immature to each other. I have ended up pacing back and forth across the floor while listening to Korn on my mp3 player from the days of money to avoid punching idiots at shelter. The only thing that helps is this blog, and that's not even a stable commodity. All I can say is FFFFF.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Intro to Kat
Posting the first in a series of blogs is much like posting an about me on a social networking site. It's like trying to squash yourself into a box that others will understand. I don't particularly like that idea, though it has its uses assuredly. People love placing others in neat little boxes because it's simpler than getting to understand every facet of them.. Me, I'm more of a global mind. I like to think, and think, and contemplate, and observe. Currently I'm debating how much of myself I should reveal right now.
First thing I will tell you, I will be doing my best to post a blog daily. I may miss a day, simply because I'm homeless and trying to rectify the situation.
I'm not the most social of creatures. Hardly surprising, considering I am posting blogs rather than doing video blogs or being a comedienne.(Ah hah! It's a female!)
A little glimmer of what's in my mind- I'm sitting here in the library beneath all the layers of criss-crossing stares and in a single glance I see at least 4 people walking up or down a different part of the intricate staircase.
In those four people are four totally different lives with multiple layers of thoughts, beliefs, friends, political views, emotional entanglements, troubles and happinesses.
All humans on the planet share 99.999999%(etc) IDENTICAL genetic stuffs. That means that although they all look very different, have different mental and emotional and physical issues, though they are of different ages and have different jobs etc, and think in totally different patterns, they're all practically the same thing. They may despise each other beyond belief, or love each other as deeply as people possibly can.
All sorts of things fascinate me. I'm often caught between deep feelings of disgust toward people, and amazement. The intricate nature of mankind amazes me, yet what people do, say, how they act often disgusts me. I feel alone in a crowd, and claustrophobic all at once. I love people for their potential, and loathe them for their flaws- And note, by that I don't mean their mistakes. Mistakes are mistakes. When you choose to be an asshole to someone for no reason, with no psychological reason in your past to back it up.. It's not right. Arrogance annoys me, though I can be arrogant. I also accept that in the grand scheme of this planet and the universe I am nothing, though.
To me, love is something you can't really explain as simply platonic or familial or romantic. Love is much more than all of that. It's all of it combined. Love is knowing someone for all their strengths and faults, their problems and the reasons why and liking them anyway. It's liking them FOR their faults, for their issues, for their very being itself. It's a hard thing to do, and exhausting when you're hurt by them. But I think it's worth it.
And yes, I am random. But I think this sums me up more than I expected ^_~ 'Til next time..
-Kat-
First thing I will tell you, I will be doing my best to post a blog daily. I may miss a day, simply because I'm homeless and trying to rectify the situation.
I'm not the most social of creatures. Hardly surprising, considering I am posting blogs rather than doing video blogs or being a comedienne.(Ah hah! It's a female!)
A little glimmer of what's in my mind- I'm sitting here in the library beneath all the layers of criss-crossing stares and in a single glance I see at least 4 people walking up or down a different part of the intricate staircase.
In those four people are four totally different lives with multiple layers of thoughts, beliefs, friends, political views, emotional entanglements, troubles and happinesses.
All humans on the planet share 99.999999%(etc) IDENTICAL genetic stuffs. That means that although they all look very different, have different mental and emotional and physical issues, though they are of different ages and have different jobs etc, and think in totally different patterns, they're all practically the same thing. They may despise each other beyond belief, or love each other as deeply as people possibly can.
All sorts of things fascinate me. I'm often caught between deep feelings of disgust toward people, and amazement. The intricate nature of mankind amazes me, yet what people do, say, how they act often disgusts me. I feel alone in a crowd, and claustrophobic all at once. I love people for their potential, and loathe them for their flaws- And note, by that I don't mean their mistakes. Mistakes are mistakes. When you choose to be an asshole to someone for no reason, with no psychological reason in your past to back it up.. It's not right. Arrogance annoys me, though I can be arrogant. I also accept that in the grand scheme of this planet and the universe I am nothing, though.
To me, love is something you can't really explain as simply platonic or familial or romantic. Love is much more than all of that. It's all of it combined. Love is knowing someone for all their strengths and faults, their problems and the reasons why and liking them anyway. It's liking them FOR their faults, for their issues, for their very being itself. It's a hard thing to do, and exhausting when you're hurt by them. But I think it's worth it.
And yes, I am random. But I think this sums me up more than I expected ^_~ 'Til next time..
-Kat-
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