Our Homeless Experience 7: The Homeless Shelter, Part 2

Warning: This post talks about violence and domestic abuse.

Two nights ago there was a commotion in the apartment above ours. It was late, we'd already been in bed a few hours and luckily my trio are sound sleepers. They have yet to be woken by the disturbances of nightime.

This time was louder, there was a lot of stomping and shouting. It sounded like they were going to come through the floor.

The next morning I was grabbed and asked "Did you hear what happened?!"

Apparently she stabbed him. Twice. And in order to avoid jail she purposely overdosed. Ah. Of course. Selfish people. My first thought is of their little boy.

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How can these parents subject their babies to this?! You have created a person. The most precious person in your life.

The young woman who told me what had happened works with me. She lives upstairs in the permanent apartments.

Just a few weeks ago she was down here in the shelter, where she is NOT supposed to be, full on brawling with another woman. Apparently this woman was caught on camera sneaking into my co-worker's place to steal some items.

That same night another couple were fighting in the common area.

I am thought of as being quite stuck up around here. The reality is I refuse to invite any of these people into my life. I will not allow their drama become mine.

The young couple with the cutest little girl in the apartment next to mine in the shelter were asked to leave the shelter when he beat her and she refuses to let them send only him away.

The woman across the hall had to leave with her little boy because of drugs. A single mom with two girls and a bot is there now. She has a drug problem as well and is constantly yelling at them, but she actually seems to be trying.

The reality is this. Homelessness is the single most stressful time of my entire life. And I am a remarkably mellow person. I can only imagine how the stress affects the more high strung among our population. Those with mental disorders, addictions or just have no coping skills.

It brings out the worst in people. And then they stick all of these people in similar stressed out situations right on top of each other and expect the anxiety and anger in them to not bounce around and amp everyone up.

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I guarantee that statistic is higher for homeless folks. The vulnerable. The impoverished.

This mess is from a couple that live with their two children on the second floor. When he gets angry, he throws their stuff out the window. Children's toys, clothes, her purse, cutlery, anything that will fit out the hole in the screen.

This picture is from the second time he'd done it in three days. He did not have to clean up his mess. They still live here.

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About a month ago my children and I were outside waiting for a ride to the grocer. Half a block down a woman turns onto the street next to the church.

Moments later she is screaming for help, shrill, anguished screams.

The first instinct is to run to her, help her, SAVE her. But my people were with me. Secondary instinct kicked in. I brought my babies back inside and called the police.

I even stepped back outside to try and flag down a cop driving by. Excuse my language but the mother fucker looked at me, waved and kept driving.

Fifteen minutes later an officer shows up, takes my name and number, then drives off to the Domiano Center, the direction the woman had been heading. I have no idea if they ever found her.

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In coming to the shelter we were seperated from our dogs. Our protection and security. When we go out in this neighborhood, I keep my hand on my phone at all times and keep my head on a swivel.

The police are at our building every day. My coworker has been investigated by CPS multiple times. Her boy witnessed her being chased through their apartment with a knife after she slept with another woman's boyfriend.

"Helping children recover from the trauma of homelessness." That's the shelter's creed, remember?

These eyes have never seen blood on the snow before we came here. These eyes have never seen a man shove a woman into a door before. Her ears have never before heard her neighbors children wailing while the parents scream.

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When we are out of here I am planning a strongly worded letter to CPS. Thanking them for sending us to a place they visit so frequently. For tearing us out of our solitute and taking a part of my children's innocence. Why do they not have to answer for their wrong doing???

This cycle has to stop. The energy of this whole building is foul and angry and sad. Soon, you guys, soon.

Our Homeless Experience 6: The Shelter, Part 1

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