An Update

I’ve been in this shelter/program for a week and a half now, and things have noticeably improved for me here.  This is significant because I am highly critical of “programs” for the homeless, and will not tolerate staying in one that does not mean my expectations –  but this one is different in that it actually works, and it works mainly because it avoids the mistakes that other homeless programs make – of course they are avoiding those mistakes by actually paying attention to the needs of the homeless.   I’ve been in enough “program shelters” in my life to know that most of them aren’t worth the effort. The biggest mistake that an organization can make, and that most organizations are guilty of, is thinking in terms of what they want to give to the homeless, and not considering what the homeless actually need.  Of course this requires that people in the organization actually understand homeless people and their needs.   I am always struck by those who have worked with the homeless for many years and yet they still have no clue about homelessness.

Because this program makes sense, and that the case managers are attentive and considerate, without being pushy and aggressive, and that they have a truly workable game plan, I’m going to stick with it and see where it gets me.  If all goes well, I should be in a home of my own by Thanksgiving.

My health continues to improve, but I must tell you that I was somewhat glad, at the time, that things were heading south.  I wanted relief from this perpetual homelessness, and death was as good an option as any other.  Actually it seemed like the only option.  In the past I tried killing myself, but I couldn’t go through with it.  Death is scary.  and it’s not like I decided I wanted to live after all, it’s only that I couldn’t bring myself to commit suicide.  So becoming deathly ill was the next best thing.  A blood clot to my brain or heart would have been perfect.  Now here I am, in a better mindset and feeling hopeful.  (“hopeful” is not the same as “full of hope”)  I still don’t know what I’ll do with myself once I get a place of my own, I might become depressed all over again, though I doubt it considering I’ll actually have a place here in my home town of San Diego, where I grew up.


About Kevin Barbieux

I have been diagnosed as being chronically homeless. I write about my experiences and opinions of being homeless
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