Like most of the homeless who have spent any significant amout of time on the street, you become bitter toward the rest of society. Not so much that you hate people but that you begin not to trust people.
I was always in fear of being rejected, laughed at, picked on, pushed around, you name it. People that have never been homeless or most likely will never become homeless tend to be really mean assholes toward homeless. Not all people but a large group of people are this way.
I remember many days sitting in the park or in the library hiding, because I didnt want people to know who I was or what I was about. I was afraid that somehow they would find a way to mistreat me with any little bit of information they could gather about me. So I rarely shared anything with people.
I can remember one time about 6 years ago, that I thought I could trust a person I met on the street with personal things about myself and that turned out to be a disaster. The dickhead decided to share everything I told him to people I didn't even know, and for weeks I get laughed at, fucked with and basically beaten down mentally.
For a long time after that I didn't want a thing to do with anyone, I just blew everyone and everything off, people didn't mean shit to me, and I didn't give a fuck what they thought about me. I felt abandoned, shamed, unwanted, you know all of the shitty feelings that we all hope that we never have to feel.
Then about a year later, I started going to a place in one of the local parks that fed the homeless. The first few weeks, I would just go there and grab a little ziploc bag and be on my way. But around the 3rd or 4th week I had this girl (who shall remain nameless) she knows who she is, that wandered up to me one night and started talking to me. I thought to myself "who the fuck does this girl think she is?" I was rather rude and told her to go away. And I left.
The following week, I went back to the park to get my little bag, and the girl I told the week before to go away, came to me with a bag in her hand and started chatting with me again. And like the week before I just walked away. But this time in the back of my mind, I was like, all she was trying to do was make me feel accepted, and I felt a little bit of guilt for treating her the way that I had.
The 3rd week I went to the park and she was once again there. She came right over to me with a bag in hand and sat down next to me, but this time she held the bag in her lap for a little bit, making have to sit with her and least listen to her. So, I sat there for about 45 minutes listening to her tell me about who she was, why she felt that I was the person she was meant to meet etc...
After her little chat with me, in which I hardly said two words to her, she gave me my bag, and told me that no matter what, she will always be my friend. That one sentence at first didn't seem like much to me, because I heard it before, but for some reason when I heard it from her, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to blow this girl off very easily. And you know what, I am glad that our lives came together in the park during a homeless feeding.
Today, I can talk to her about anything and she never judges me, she never makes fun of me, and even if she doesn't have the advice I need, she genuinely cares. And for that I will always love her, she means the world to me, and I would do anything for her.
Thank you my Ziploc Girl. You mean more to me than I can put into words.
I was always in fear of being rejected, laughed at, picked on, pushed around, you name it. People that have never been homeless or most likely will never become homeless tend to be really mean assholes toward homeless. Not all people but a large group of people are this way.
I remember many days sitting in the park or in the library hiding, because I didnt want people to know who I was or what I was about. I was afraid that somehow they would find a way to mistreat me with any little bit of information they could gather about me. So I rarely shared anything with people.
I can remember one time about 6 years ago, that I thought I could trust a person I met on the street with personal things about myself and that turned out to be a disaster. The dickhead decided to share everything I told him to people I didn't even know, and for weeks I get laughed at, fucked with and basically beaten down mentally.
For a long time after that I didn't want a thing to do with anyone, I just blew everyone and everything off, people didn't mean shit to me, and I didn't give a fuck what they thought about me. I felt abandoned, shamed, unwanted, you know all of the shitty feelings that we all hope that we never have to feel.
Then about a year later, I started going to a place in one of the local parks that fed the homeless. The first few weeks, I would just go there and grab a little ziploc bag and be on my way. But around the 3rd or 4th week I had this girl (who shall remain nameless) she knows who she is, that wandered up to me one night and started talking to me. I thought to myself "who the fuck does this girl think she is?" I was rather rude and told her to go away. And I left.
The following week, I went back to the park to get my little bag, and the girl I told the week before to go away, came to me with a bag in her hand and started chatting with me again. And like the week before I just walked away. But this time in the back of my mind, I was like, all she was trying to do was make me feel accepted, and I felt a little bit of guilt for treating her the way that I had.
The 3rd week I went to the park and she was once again there. She came right over to me with a bag in hand and sat down next to me, but this time she held the bag in her lap for a little bit, making have to sit with her and least listen to her. So, I sat there for about 45 minutes listening to her tell me about who she was, why she felt that I was the person she was meant to meet etc...
After her little chat with me, in which I hardly said two words to her, she gave me my bag, and told me that no matter what, she will always be my friend. That one sentence at first didn't seem like much to me, because I heard it before, but for some reason when I heard it from her, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to blow this girl off very easily. And you know what, I am glad that our lives came together in the park during a homeless feeding.
Today, I can talk to her about anything and she never judges me, she never makes fun of me, and even if she doesn't have the advice I need, she genuinely cares. And for that I will always love her, she means the world to me, and I would do anything for her.
Thank you my Ziploc Girl. You mean more to me than I can put into words.
Glad you found a friend. :)
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