Tag Archives: Homelessness

Memories of homelessness

Posted on by under Homelessness, Life changes

A Day at Transitional Housing, with Psychos for Neighbors

A time for healing

Photo by Ryan Conrow from Pexels

After months of no privacy, trying to sleep in a cavernous room with bunks inches from mine. After having to find a place to go before sun-up when the security goons threw us out into the street.

It was an upgrade

I thought I was in paradise four months later. The caseworkers found me a room at a transitional housing apartment. It was a small room with no running water, and having food or cooking in the room was not allowed.

The bed was a thin rubber mattress. It was on a wooden box. There was a small desk with the most uncomfortable plastic chair created. I was in paradise.

The neighbors were a trip

It was often hard to sleep at night. The guy living above me would wake up around the time I went to bed. He would turn on his TV as loud as possible.

I was the only man in the building who could close a door without slamming it. The restroom and showers were down the hall. The guy two-doors down from me had Parkinson’s Disease. His tremors and shakes were so bad. You couldn’t walk too close to him because he might hit you.

He had a reason for peeing all over the restroom floor, but the other guys were drunk or stoned.

Maybe it was a good thing the volume was too high

The guy right next door on one side loved to watch porn with the volume at full blast. One guy that lived down the hall would have heated arguments.

He would yell in his room for hours

I at first thought he had Internet access, and he was arguing with someone online. He was arguing with himself. There was no smoking allowed in the building. The smokers would be up and down all night. Slamming their doors as they headed downstairs to go outside to smoke.

Minneapolis is a neat city to walk around and explore

I would spend my days napping or writing in my room. If I was going stir-crazy, I would walk the skyways, or head to the library, or take the light rail to The Mall of America.

The shelter had a park for the residents. I spent the summer days in the park. I would drink with my neighbors and watch the pretty office workers as they walked by.

I would watch and listen to my neighbors. I discovered that no matter how bad my situation was, I was in a lot better shape than a lot of other people.

We talked for two years before we met in person

I had met a woman online. We had a plan to get me out of Minnesota and to get me to South Carolina to be with her. We talked all the time on the phone and online.

I had State Medical Insurance, Which was a good thing because I had some physical and mental health issues. The Hospital and Allergy Clinic was a short walk away.

I was coming back to myself

I had lost all my confidence and self-worth. The two years I spent at transitional housing did a lot to get me back to the man I was before I became homeless.

That time in my life will stick with me forever. I have regained the confidence I lost, but I still live in fear of becoming homeless again. I’m glad that God brought a good woman into my life.

I learned the hard way that I can’t do it alone. I’m so happy I have a wife with a good head for managing money. I listen to her because I never want to be homeless again.

Final Thought:

When things seem bad, hang in there and keep going forward. If you keep the faith and hope alive you will get through the dark times. Having someone who cares helps a lot as well.

Olivia Could Read My Mind, That Was Cool until I Got Busted

Posted on by under Dating and Relationships., Homelessness

You can’t get over on them, don’t try

Photo by ELEVATE: https://www.pexels.com/photo/four-women-sitting-on-benches-outside-building-1267708/

After spending three months upstairs at the shelter, in a room with ten other guys I got my room. I was living in a transitional housing facility.

I had my room, but there was no water in the room, and a fridge and stove were not allowed. The last summer I was there I started to get bored with being there.

You would say it was an error in judgment, and you would be right

I began hanging out in the park by the building. The shelter owned the park. It wasn’t long before I was drinking with my neighbors. I never had a drinking problem.

I had promised myself that I wouldn’t drink while I was on the street, but I let my guard down. I never got drunk. I never caused a problem.

I was feeling good and having fun

One evening, I went to the park. it was a nice night, and the tables and benches were full. There was a spot left at a table. I sat down at a table full of women.

I said, “ Hey,” they all said, “Hey,” then one of them passed me a can of soda. That contained a little soda and a lot of vodka. We were having a good time until Olivia called.

How did she know?

I don’t know how Olivia does it, but she can read my mind. She knows when I’m trying to get over, and I get busted every time. It’s like she smelled my breath through the phone.

We had a chilly, and short conversation. I went back to my room, and she called me back. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t so mad about the drinking.

I got chewed out, she was unhappy, for some reason

She was pissed because I was drinking with women. I apologized and said I would never do it again. I kept my word. I would have a drink with the guys, but I never sat and drank with the women after that night.

I shouldn’t have been drinking in the first place. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t drink while I was homeless. I had my own room, so I guess I became too comfortable.

Boredom and loneliness will get you in trouble

Anyway, I never sat and drank with women again. The only reason I did that night, was it was the only place to sit. I was also bored and lonely.

Olivia didn’t worry about me drinking with the guys, she didn’t approve, but she could deal with it. She wasn’t down with me drinking with the women.

Women have radar:

My advice is never to try to get something past the woman in your life. They know you better than you think, and you will get busted.

Lost in Minneapolis: Table of contents
lawsonwallace.medium.com

Illumination Book Chapters

Posted on by under Writing and creativity

The New Shelter

Lost in Minneapolis Chapter Three: Olivia Sends me a Cellphone

Photo by Michael Burrows from Pexels

On my last day at the shelter, I went downstairs and ate breakfast, then I went upstairs and packed. I sat and waited for the caseworker to come upstairs and take me to transitional housing.

It was an ugly building, but I didn’t care

My new home was an ugly eight-story building in downtown Minneapolis. I got my stuff out of the back of the caseworker’s car, I needed to get a cart to haul all my crap. I entered the building, there was a window just inside the entrance where a black woman sat at a desk.
 She introduced herself and led me to a table, we sat down and she pulled papers from a folder. I spent several minutes signing papers and listening as she laid down the rules.

There are always rules

With that done, I was given a tour of the building, then another resident lead me to the laundry area on my floor, all my clothes had to run through the dryer in a futile effort to kill the bedbugs.

It was the first time that I was alone in months

I spent the rest of the day in my room napping. There was no WIFI or running water and having food and cooking in the rooms was against the rules. I slept until near lunchtime, then I headed downstairs to the dining room.
 “The food is better here.” I thought as I ate my lunch. I finished eating and went back to my room. That first night alone in my room, I couldn’t sleep. The sores from the bedbug bites I sustained at the other shelter were itching and driving me nuts.

Too excited to sleep, or it was probably the long nap

The bedbugs and excitement about being in a new place kept me awake most of the night.
“The food is better.” I thought as I ate lunch. During the week, there was a cold breakfast, a choice of cereal or toast, and bagels. Lunch and dinner were hot meals, but there was a hot breakfast on weekends.

I spent a lot of time in the computer room

I ate breakfast, then I decided to check out the computer room. I had to sign in and give the employee at the desk my driver’s license, then she led me to the computer room and logged me into a computer.
 
Several computers were in use, folks streaming videos, or on Facebook. I checked my email, then I logged on to Facebook and talked to Olivia for an hour or so. I was still beat down from the shelter, but I needed to get out and explore the area and get things done.

I got out and explored Minneapolis

The third day, I felt a lot better, I found out where the transit office was, I bought a bus pass, I then headed back to the post office to check my mail. Olivia sent me a DVD. I watched the movie and went to bed early.
 My room was small, with no running water and an awful bed, but it did have a small desk and the most uncomfortable chair on earth, made from plastic. I didn’t care, I wrote almost every day.

I worked on the novel I will never finish

The next day, I met with a caseworker and a nurse to discuss my medications and my health. I spent the rest of the day on Facebook and in my room writing.
 After about five days, people started to introduce themselves and the seeds of friendships were planted.

The Staff took care of me

My caseworker arranged for the shelter to buy me some much-needed glasses. I started to get out and explore the area. I quickly fell in love with downtown Minneapolis.
The shelter was close to the library, and a Barnes and Noble’s was closer still. My book collection grew. Everything was great, but not having a phone was a pain in the ass.

We had never met in person, but she sent me a phone

“How would you like me to send you a phone?” Olivia asked me one day. I wasn’t surprised, she had been sending me money for months. I told her having a phone would be awesome.
 I walked across town to the post office by the other shelter to get it. I walked back to the shelter and spent the rest of the day syncing music, I loved that phone. I spent the next few days going from WIFI hotspot to WIFI hotspot downloading free music and posting on social media.

My first case manager was useless

I was assigned a case manager, I was supposed to see him forty-eight hours after I moved into the shelter. I think I met him a month later. I discovered quickly how big a piece of shit he was, but he was worse than I knew.
 My case manager did the little things to pad his reports, He first took me to get a replacement for my worn and tattered Social Security card, the next day he took me to the DMV to get my State Identification card.
 The people at the DMV wanted to see my Birth Certificate, but I didn’t have it with me. Kenny took me back a week later after I found the Birth Certificate in my overnight bag.

The Skyways fascinated me

When the Caseworker left me alone, I spent my days either in my room or exploring the Skyways. I would also take a short walk to the library. The library was fun to go to. It was a better experience being there and not having to worry about dozing off.
 We received our General Assistance money on the first. Most of my neighbors spent their money on booze and drugs. The Park next to the shelter would be a party zone for a few days, then it would die down as the money ran out.
 
I would get necessities, snacks, laundry detergent, and clothing. I always had money left over. I also spent a lot of time at the Book store. I always managed to stop by the coffee shop and buy a Mocha or Latte.

Two years after we starting talking, we finally met

Time went by, Olivia and I had been talking for two years. One day Olivia called me, “Hey babe, how would you like for me to come to Minneapolis for a few days?” The smile I had when I heard those words damned near split my skull in half.
 We talked some more, then we both got busy. I couldn’t just leave the shelter for the weekend. I had to get a pass from my case manager, while Olivia booked a hotel room.
 I was so excited; I was ready to explode. The funny thing was, I wasn’t nervous at all. I packed my overnight bag the night before I left. The next morning, I walked the few blocks to the light-rail station heading to the Airport.

The Next Chapter:

We finally meet in person.

Life after Minneapolis

Lawson lives in South Carolina with his wife Olivia. It has been four years since he left Minneapolis. His life is a lot better now.

The Room Upstairs and a Big Mistake

Posted on by under Writing and creativity

Lost in Minneapolis Chapter two: She forgave me for being an Idiot

Photo by MART PRODUCTION from Pexels

My name’s Lawson Wallace. I live in South Carolina with my wife Olivia. My wife has been after me to write a book about when I was homeless and how we met. I decided to publish the book here on Illumination Book Chapters.

The story is true as best as I can remember it. Some things though were blocked out. I have included background from when I was younger for context.

In this chapter: I get a bed upstairs and Olivia and I get to know each other

The Room upstairs

At the time, I had an iPhone. The carrier had discontinued service because they wanted me to pay my bill for some reason. There was a payphone on the floor; Olivia had texted me her cellphone number; one afternoon, I called her.

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I stopped in front of the phone and picked up the receiver, and started dropping quarters into the slot. We talked until I ran out of quarters.

WIFI is a beautiful thing

“Wait a minute.” I was sitting on the bunk and in front of my laptop; when Olivia messaged me. “You have an iPhone, and you have WIFI, right?” I confirmed that I did have both of those.

“We can talk on our phones over WIFI.” I shook my head and smiled ruefully. I gave her my number, and she called me.

Why didn’t I think of that?

Once we started talking, we talked all the time. The only problem I had was finding an outlet to keep my phone charged. After a few weeks of talking on the phone, Olivia started sending me money.

Olivia was concerned about me

I was supposed to be receiving GA and food stamps, but somehow that didn’t happen. Olivia was concerned, that’s why she started sending me money that somehow rarely made it past the shelter mailbox.

“There’s a post office around the block from the shelter,” I told her one day. She asked me for the address and phone number. She wanted to know how much a post office box cost.

I soon had a post box to receive money and whatever else she wanted to send me. I sent her a picture, and she decided I needed a haircut. This led to an embarrassing incident, or as I like to call a bone-head move.

For a smart guy, I do incredibly dumb things

I was staying with these people, it was an uncomfortable situation, so I stayed in the basement as much as possible. I spent a lot of time on my laptop. It was around this time that someone had hacked some celebrity computers.

Thousands of hours of sex videos and nude pictures of these celebrities were online for the world to see. I couldn’t resist the chance to see Kate Upton and other attractive stars naked.

I was proud of my first haircut in months

What I didn’t realize was, the MacBook saved all those pictures to my hard drive. While I was upstairs, Olivia sent me the money to get a haircut. One of my roommates took me to a haircutting place in Nicollet Mall.

I heard about the skyway, but I never thought about exploring it. My roommate led me through it to the mall. The skyway is an interlinked closed pedestrian footbridge that connects nine and a half miles of Downtown Minneapolis.

To say that Olivia was pissed is an understatement

I got my haircut and excitedly headed back to the shelter, I wanted to show Olivia my new haircut. I sat on the bed and powered up the MacBook and used the camera and took a selfie, then I sent a photo.

I realized a second too late, that I sent the nude photo of Kate Upton. “Fuck, Shit, no, no,” I repeated aloud as I frantically pounded on the keys of the MacBook. It was no use. I waited with my blood pressure escalating for the call that came seconds later.

She forgave me, Thank God

“I’m so sorry Olivia, please, I’m so sorry.” I waited for her response, silently pleading that she wouldn’t dump me. She started to talk, she was calm, but her voice could have frozen the Lake of Fire.

“I don’t know why you sent that to me, but I forgive you.” I calmed down a bit, but I wondered what she would say next. “Forget about it.” She said, her voice thawing a little.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She said. We talked a few more minutes, when we finished the call, I went through the MacBook and deleted everything that was remotely objectionable.

We laugh about it now

We still talk about the picture incident, but she doesn’t find it as funny as I do now. At the time it wasn’t funny at all. There were other incidents where we had words, but the picture incident was the worst.

The Housing people found me a place to live

I spent Christmas and New Year’s upstairs, I didn’t know it at the time, but the next stage of my life as a homeless person was about to begin.

The housing Lady had sent me to three or four places to see if they would accept me, the last place she sent me accepted my application.

A Breathtaking Phrase You Need to Think About if You’re Clinging to Hurts and Betrayals

Posted on by under Writing and creativity

Let it go, it’s not helping you

“Memento Mori” has been on my mind a lot

Six years ago, I took the light rail to the airport. I checked my bag and ate an overpriced panini for lunch while I waited for the boarding call. My almost three-year-long nightmare of homelessness was over.

I have written a lot about that time in my life. I wrote so many stories I was able to compile them into two eBooks that are for sale. I wrote a lot of stories, but I haven’t written a lot about the reasons why I was homeless.

I trusted the wrong people, I’ll never let it happen again

I made mistakes. I have been honest about that, but I haven’t written about the betrayals. The betrayals that led to me being on the streets hurt me because people I trusted were the betrayers. I have been allowing those wounds to fester for years.

It’s taking a lot of work and prayer, but I’m getting past it all. I saw this Latin Phrase some time back. I looked the definition up online. It’s a phrase that resonates with me. That phrase is, “Memento Mori.”

“ Look after yourself. Remember you’re a man. Remember you will die.”

“ Memento Mori”

“I’ll be damned.” I thought. I recently celebrated my sixty-fourth birthday. Both my parents died too early. If heredity is in play, I don’t have a lot of time left. Do I want to waste my time picking at old wounds? No, I don’t.

What’s the point of picking at the scab of the past? The Bible talks a lot about forgiveness. What I came to realize is that forgiveness isn’t for the benefit of the people that hurt me. Forgiveness is for me.

It takes a lot of work, but it’s worth it

Whenever the resentment and anger try to surface. I say to myself, “ It’s over, what’s done is done.” It’s hard work. But, you know something? it’s paying off. I’m thinking clearer. My writing is better, and I’m writing and posting more often.

I said it aloud. “ I forgive you, ( Name withheld).

It’s amazing what I’m accomplishing. Changing my thoughts and not obsessing over the past isn’t the only factor. My confidence is growing and my self-worth has improved since I escaped homelessness.

You only have so much time left, focus on what matters

Where are you focusing your energy? Control your thoughts and emotions. Channel your hurt and anger into something positive. My writing has improved and I’m producing more content.

I have more energy to create because I’m not obsessing about the past I can’t change. At some point, I had to let myself heal. I can’t heal by picking at the scab that’s covering the past. So, I let it go.

Final Thought:

Betrayals happen. Let it go. Forgive the people who hurt you. Don’t let them live rent-free inside your head. Forgiveness isn’t for them. It’s for you. You deserve peace and happiness. Don’t let the past you can’t change steal it from you.

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lawsonthewriter1@gmail.com