Thanks for the frank answers, lexi, I’m glad that you’re doing better.
I emailed and then talked to my dad last night. My dad’s view is that my high risk behavior was suicidal, and to kick me out have might kicked me over the edge and that was too high a risk to take with a child you love.
Among old friends, some haven’t been in contact with family for decades, like you - many had too toxic of relationships to even attempt to work on a peace.
I am glad I have maintained a great friendship with my dad, and my sister and I are now close (my sister moved out to my dad’s too when she was 14 and got into trouble of her own), and I have even reconciled with my mom who finally kicked out my step father when I was around 25. My mom realizes her mistakes, and I accept my mom as very human and damaged in her own way. I love my mom very much, and I am glad she finally has her life together too.
Some of my friends have taken an even more amazing step. One friend of mine has bought her very messed up mom a house, and has let her dad stay with her. Her parents were very messed up - but not intentionally bad . Another friend who was physically abused and eventually kicked out of her parents home is now taking care of her parents who through age and alcoholism have deteriorated physically and mentally. Another girl I know has moved into her father’s house to take care of him through an illness.
My family is very important to me, and sometimes when I see my oldest niece who is now 11 - I have a twinge of shock in realizing that when I met certain friends, they were not much older and what life we were living.
There is one girl I run into and talk to from time to time who I did meet when she was 11. Her older sister was a 13 year old prostitute and financially supported her, but used to leave her to stay with the punk kids when she went out to work. Their home life was more awful than most, but I don’t remember the details. Looking back on it - I almost feel sick to think about it now. Her sister was murdered by a john when she was 17. Whenever I see the younger sister, I am so happy to see that she is doing well in life.
She was young, she was a baby like my little niece… It really breaks my heart what she went through.
>Some of my friends have taken an even more amazing step…
The resiliance of some people is mighty amazing and admirable, and your postings give plenty evidence of that. We humans have quite the variety to how we do. I love to hear about some of these stories and hope always to do better. Thanks!
I am curious about your daily life when you lived on the streets. What would a typical day have been like for you? Where did you sleep at night? What did you do for food? Money? You say you did panhandling or tarot reading. Did you ever do anything else to make money?
You also mention street psychosis. I don’t understand that. Is it a sort of mindset from being on the street too long or do you think of it as more of a mental condition?
How about the dangers? Were there any other dangers you experienced (Outside of sickness, starvation, threat of bodily harm from skinheads and pimps)?
Day to day life on the streets was actually quite mundane.
I’d wake up usually about 10 AM if I had a squat, hotel room, or somewhere else to sleep and if I didn’t have a washroom where I was, I’d go find a public one and wash up. Then the next quest was to get change for a coffee and maybe breakfast. Usually breakfast was fast food because that was cheap. In Vancouver the Burger King had a deal on burgers and was the cheapest. In Calgary, it was the Dairy Queen, but often the manager didn’t want us in, so we’d go to the food fair. Afterwards, we’d usually wander around for a while, hang out in a park, or just hang out downtown. We’d get harassed by police, skinheads, jocks, headbangers and had move on to somewhere else, basically we’d spend much of the day going from one place to another. Sometimes we’d stop into a shelter for a shower, laundry or what not. Usually our homes were our backbacks - and we’d never leave our backbacks anywhere but on our back or under our heads at night. We’d spend a lot of time talking - very deep conversations, intelligent conversations too - most of us were well read.
Sometimes we’d go to the mall’s makeup counters and put on makeup and perfume Sometimes we’d go to the library and read, sometimes we’d hang out at coffee shops but we always needed more money for food, liquor or perhaps drugs.
Sometimes we’d get fed by some christian group feeding us lines about how religion would cure all our ills.
The evenings we’d drink, do drugs, sometimes we’d go see bands, sometimes we’d go to nightclubs and party all night. It was a total escape from the day time’s drudgery, and having been insulted and harassed all day.
Then we’d go to wherever we were sleeping - and sleep. Squats were the best, adult shelters would be the worst (most likely place to get beaten up and robbed). Hotel rooms weren’t bad, but could often be more bug ridden and dirtier than a squat. Friends places we great, sometimes a friend who was living at home would sneak you in.
I never did anything more than panhandle or read cards, but I knew more than one drug dealer, and quite a few girls and boys who sold their bodies.
Street psychosis is what a psychologist of mine called it. Basically because you are separate from mainstream culture, and because mainstream culture is usually not very friendly to you, and also because of some of the experiences of street life, and how you need to take care of yourself above all, you actually become emotionally numb - quite cold and calculating. You also really don’t want to be part of the mainstream world anymore - you become acclimated to your street life, and the more time you spend there the more hating of the rest of the world, and the less empathy you have towards others.
As for dangers, well there were pimps (two girls I knew were kidnapped by pimps), skinheads, cops (some male cops would ask for favors under threat of arrest), there was inter-scene fighting, many people came from violent homes so when there were arguments they could get violent, drug dealers angry at clients or sub dealers, creepy adults stalking you, hitch-hiking was dangerous too - you never knew who could pick you up, jocks from the suburbs came downtown to beat up punks, head bangers too.