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.