She’s a slender, attractive blonde woman, looks to be about thirty, always well dressed, well groomed, clean.
She just walks up and down the streets of this town, mostly the ones with sidewalks, with a frown on her face, swinging her arms as if she were punching away at the air. For hours and hours every day, covering miles and miles. For maybe seven years, now. I’ve seen all over the town, north/south/west/east, sometimes several times in a single day at widely spaced points. I used to walk daily myself for exercise, and we’d often cross paths. I’d say Hi! to her, the way you do to other walkers in small towns, and she never replied, but after some months she’d nod as she passed me.
Clearly she’s troubled, but given her appearance she must have a home she goes to, somewhere to eat and sleep and change her clothes and all, and hopefully family that love her and are caring for her as best whatever her condition is allows.
I have noticed how people pretend not to see “different” people. It can be very strange, everybody pretending that they just aren’t there. It’s one thing when they are walking past, the interaction is necessarily short, but it’s very peculiar on a train or somewhere of longer duration. Somebody “different” will try to chat to somebody and they are just completely, utterly ignored as if they aren’t there. No reaction, no response. I remember a conversation on the train once. The young woman from up the street (she had some sort of intellectual disability, she was “young for her age”) told me that she wasn’t going to go to work that day, she didn’t want to, she was just going to take the train to the end and go back home. I said I understood exactly how she felt Everybody else completely (and I mean “completely”) ignored her.
They have this tv show where well-off people go on the streets pretending to be homeless. I don’t watch it, but I saw a trailer. One of the people was crying about nobody looking at her. She found it very hard to take.
What is it that motivates the “you are invisible to me” behaviour? Fear that the “different” will want to move in with you? That you’ll be attacked? Just an inability to handle a social situation outside what you are used to?
The lady in OP sounds hypomanic, ie not experiencing full blown mania. It’s possible she’s only like this sometimes (after a trigger of some kind, perhaps).
Having confessed to not noticing any obvious crazies around my local walmart, I’ll field this.
I actually do look at people. I’m not blind. I look at people, notice them, check them out if they’re ladies, feel bad about having checked them out if they’re ladies, and move on with my day.
If the person is obviously poor or desperate, like say they’re standing on a corner holding up a sign, I avoid being caught looking at them if possible. My reason for that is I don’t want to give them money, and don’t want to deal with them getting angry at me for not giving them money. So I try to avoid the interaction.
Other people who might be poor but don’t look problematic, like they’re just sitting around maybe looking a bit scruffy, I just walk past like I walk past anybody. I figure that people don’t want to be bothered by me. If I was going to go around bothering people who haven’t asked for it, I’d start with the ladies.
As for overtly crazy people, I honestly don’t think I’ve run across any. I’d have noticed them. And avoided them - I have other ways I’d rather spend my time than dealing with a crazy person. But if they instigated conversation with me I’d respond politely while it lasted - that’s happened with mentally handicapped people a few times. I do try to disengage, largely because I don’t find the conversation engaging, and I’d rather be getting on with my shopping or whatever.
I very rarely find conversation engaging with strangers/friends/family etc. To spice things up, I’ll actually answer honestly when they ask how I’m doing or spout out a random blunt opinion/observation. Half the time it makes people retreat into their turtle shells where they pretend they didn’t hear me, but the other half of the time a really interesting conversation picks up. (It might be less often than that. But I know they occasionally appreciate it, because sometimes I’ll get a butt ton of honest texts at 12am from someone who hasn’t spoken to me in months. Things like that.)
I don’t like talking to anyone in a store. I swear I’d pass my own brother up, if I could. The problem, I have is; every blame person within 100 or so miles knows Mr.Wrekker. And they all need to to ask me how he’s doing. They don’t really give a shit about me, they just like my social butterfly, red-neck, good ol’ boy husband. He’s very popular in this god-forsaken backwater. Oh, joy. I love my life.
Yes, that’s another factor. Homeless people with mental problems are easy victims. It’s safer for them if they hang around some place where there are crowds and security.
When I worked at the grocery store pharmacy, there was a man who would come in a couple times a week, who fancied himself a Man About Town. Oh, yeah, people knew who he was, but not because they liked him. He would buttonhole people and talk them up, and you couldn’t get rid of him, either. He was married, and his wife was on all kinds of antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds, most likely because of him.
In the city where I lived in between then and now was an elderly man who would sort of half-run and half-jog all over town, in all kinds of weather. You never knew when or where you would see him, and if someone mentioned him, pretty much everyone knew exactly who you were talking about. I finally met someone who knew him personally, and said he was part of a wealthy, prominent family in town, and they had supported him all through adulthood because of his mental health issues, which prevented him from ever holding down a job.
I used to try to talk with my Bottle Guy once, but he seriously disliked it. Eventually, I got over myself and accepted the best I could do for him was drink more single serving beverages.
He dissappeared after a couple of years and I tried to report it to the police, but what could I report? That I did not know where a homeless man whose name I did not even know was? It took the officer a while to get that I was concerned, not complaining about the guy, and we never found anything I could report.
I think I just didn’t want no one to have ever asked about him when his body was found
Respect for privacy, mine and yours, and personal space. I’m thinking very much of public transportation here.
That sounds insanely lonely. Of course you wouldn’t want to talk to anyone if that’s the kind of treatment you get. No one, in that instance, cares about you.
I get the vibe you’re not one for confrontation, but I could see myself doing this:
Stranger: “Hi! I know you! You’re Mr. Wrekker’s wife. How is he doing?”
Response: “I’m fine, thanks.”
Stranger: “What? No, I asked how your husband is.”
Response:“Ohhhhh! I’m sorry, I try not to assume people are assholes. My mistake. He’s fine.”
Years ago, when traveling with my daughter, we arrived in Tampa at the train station (by bus) and when we left the station a man approached us and introduced himself as the Mayor of Tampa. He clearly was not, but he wasn’t a dangerous crazy guy either. I complimented him on his lovely city, wished him well in the next election, and apologized for our haste in leaving. Just seemed to be the kind way to react.
There used to be a guy who would shout hellfire and damnation on the corner in downtown Chicago in the '60’s. Never really wanted to have a conversation with him. Nope.:eek:
That’s great. Think I’ll work that into a scene and see if I can pull it off. Thanks.
Seriously, I am not lonely, just kinda phobic about people. It’s one of my lesser issues.
Hah! Ten or so years ago we were on our yearly vacation in St Martin. We were in the town of Grande Case, enjoying their Carnivale celebration. A scruffy, fat, drunk, local dude stumbled up to us and asked my gf if she would dance with him.
After their dance he bowed theatrically to each of us and introduced himself as the mayor of Grande Case. We played along and invited him to walk with us. He suggested we stop at The Blue Martini, so we did. I figured I’d buy him a drink and he’d be on his way.
When we place our orders, he told the bartender we were with him, and our drinks were comped. We spent the rest of the night/morning with this man who really was the mayor of Grande Case, St Martin. I tipped every server, but other than that we were never charged for food or drinks.
We have the Crazy Bus Lady–a middle aged lady who wears torn jeans, talks to herself in a very husky smoker’s voice, and rides the buses all day. She has been known to get angry at people who stare at her, but she seems to be harmless.
I briefly worked for a social services organization that assisted the homeless population. One client had schizophrenia and he required a great deal of assistance and support. One of his paranoid delusions was that other people were talking about him (just random passers-by on the street or people on television or whatever). Once he stopped by the office and became very upset, saying that he knew we were talking about him. And in fact, he was right, we really had been discussing some aspect of his case. We didn’t quite know what to say, as his accusation was really just an expression of his paranoia though in that particular case he was not wrong. I wonder what became of him and some of the other clients. The resources available to the homeless are appallingly limited.
Derleth wrote a sensitive, empathetic post about a harmless woman who was obviously struggling with severe mental illness, and that is how you chose to respond? Jeez.
Our local shirtless dancing guy tends to stick to street corners. Always has on one of those red & white Dr. Seuss hats. Last I saw, he had landed a job which enabled him to do his favorite thing in the whole wide world while getting paid: sign spinning.
Us as a community should support social services that could take steps to keep people like this from putting themselves and others in danger. How is it that this man is able to be out there on the freeway so often without anyone in authority taking steps?
I understand that he is a potential danger to drivers as well as to himself. What I didn’t like was your attempt to dehumanize this man because he has mental/emotional problems and is apparently not able to control his behavior to fit in societal norms.
Everybody else completely (and I mean “completely”) ignored her.