Ending Homelessness is a Fight

This week has been exhausting. I feel sore and tired and my hands ache.

I’ve never noticed before how similar a fist is to holding a pen.
Bang! Boom! Pow!

Jumping in and mixing get it up with people’s lives is messy and the chaos comes from all sides. Sometimes my fiercest opponent is the person I am tasked with assisting. Manipulation, verbal judo, threats and excuses swing out at me.

1. I don’t want to
2. Give me a reason to not need to
3. Make an exception for me
4. I don’t want to work
5. I don’t have time to work, my hobby takes up all of my time

Rarely, but it does happen , the person doesn’t know they are they are a human obstacle course of emotional trauma, substance use, poor judgment and combinations of these and more.

I get threats, and insults, and yelling in my ear and phone. This week there have been tears, panic attacks, sobbing and screaming. (Actually all of that happened with one person and all in a 32 minute chat.)

When my clients are not fighting against me, I am fighting for them; seeking medical and mental health appointments, trying to get them in closed programs, endlessly stalking homeless shelters and of course obeying a system that has no idea what the personalities and skills are really working with in it.

Boom.
In 10 minutes that will be the sound of my head on the pillow.

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