I am sitting at a diner, my coffee cup is chipped and has a delightful brown stain around the middle. This cup has seen many mouths, heard many stories and has been dancing in the dishwasher for a very long time. The cream curdles and the steam rises. Here I am again, alone in this diner. The food is ok. The service is great. I am a regular. I sit here once a week to get a hot coffee and an egg, Over Hard and home fries.
There was a time that I was very confident. I felt invincible. So very able. So very smart. So very talented. Years would go by and parts of my soul, creativity, desire, hope, faith, love, and confidence were chipped away. The reality of what we have gone through is often a swirl. Everything happened so fast. I look at my arms and notice more bruises. Thighs too. My neck hurts and my feet are killing me. Why I work as hard as I do for less than 50$ a day is beyond me, but I am trying. I am out there. I am doing what I need to do. Of course, I search for better-paying work, but I got to keep what I have for now.
The waitress delivers my food and I stare blankly at it. I am lost in my mind until she asks if everything looked good. I, of course, said “Yes, Thank you.” so that she could go to her next duty. I wonder what I am going to do next. HOW is really the question when one has no family or resources. Being homeless is so easy to fall into. I never, in my life ever thought I would be. I always thought my adult life would offer less struggle then my childhood as now I would be in control. It’s funny how that is simply not so. One day? I am on TOP of the world and the very next? I am sitting in a diner wondering what the fuck just happened and why do I feel so stupid?
I have a Bachelors degree. I am well trained in 2 industries. I work hard and yet I fell flat on my ass with no visual way to get up. The longer I am in this place, the ditch just seems to rise.
Maybe?
I am shrinking into it. Maybe I am becoming part of this fear-based, hopeless, ditch.
I sprinkle hot sauce on my plate and swirl the potatoes around. I am not hungry, but I know I have to eat. Its been a day or so since I had anything. I can't get sick as I would have nowhere to rest and mend. My car is my shelter and the bruises are from the seat belts as I toss and turn at night. The battle between my body and a vehicle with a dog. I sip my coffee and think about how I got here. I really don't know. It was all so fast and as much as people say that you can “work with your landlord” or you can “work with your bank.” that is simply not the truth. My landlord sent us packing out the door in less than 2 months after I lost my job. The Credit Union repoed my car after missing 3 payments even though I was paying partially. With a personal loan, I got the car back but I can tell you the Credit Union made a LOT of money off of that deal. Almost 700$ just in bank fees. They took my car in front of my child; like vultures swooping in for the kill. We both cried not knowing what was happening until the fella in the driver's seat informed me that the Credit Union was taking possession. I couldn't understand why? I just made a payment the day before.
All because they simply could.
I miss the days when I could walk into the house, put my things down and plop down on my couch. I miss being able to take over the entire kitchen and make a feast. Cooking is my joy. My meditation time. I can't even go to the food shelf as I would have nowhere to put food, much less cook it. I am grateful for this little chipped cup and my ok warm food. At least I have that, right? I pay my bill and dread getting back into my car but I have to. I have to go back to work and make what I can for the day, in hopes that I will have enough to finally get a place.
The reality of getting a place to live is getting harder and harder for folks. The Tenants laws are not strong enough to help tenants. The cost of real estate has tripled AND the very steps to getting into a place is a nightmare. First months, last months, security deposit, application fee, credit check, electricity deposit, water deposit, and moving expenses add up to a whopping $4,500.00 in my area. If I only make 50$ a day and spend 5$ for gas, leaving me 45$ a day?
It will take me over 3 months to save enough to move into a place. The reality of getting help from the state or churches is that there are hundreds of us attempting to get the same help. The larger reality is that wages and rentals do not add up. There is a large gap between the two and banks are a large part of that responsibility.
However, it seems so easy to blame the person in the midst of this deadly ditch. It's so easy to assume that it was drugs or mental illness that put them there.
In my case? It was a horrid divorce that led into a 9-year custody battle where I landed in jail for 4 days. Why?
Because he could afford a dirty lawyer who knows how to use the system to continue his abuse.
Now?
We recover and start over. Its truly starting over from ground ZERO.
Everything lost and only scars gained. Maybe not. I think after all that has been done, I am now far better as a person then I was. So? Maybe I did gain more.
Until Next time……
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I write pieces of my 43-years journey circling this planet. Some are past and some present. The time is not relevant. It's the story of healing, hope, transformation, and my overall determination not to give up.
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Write to me as I would love to hear from you:
Living & Thriving with Rustie
2828 S Mccall Rd
32–4
Englewood, FL 34224
