You know... It still marvels me to see how basic humans really are once you've broken them out of a "man-made" social structure called society. I first became homeless at 16 when I moved to the United States to live with my father, who created a brand new family and invited me into a very Cinderella style scenario.
I was raised in Ireland by my grandparents and was not liked much by my fathers new wife. With a combination of her whispers into his ears and mine and his differences in religious beliefs, I was quickly discarded out into the streets where I grew to understand a sink or swim mentality. I was still going through high school, so I went to the only place I knew to go to... My schools counselors. There, they enrolled me into a city program that found me an apartment to live in. They would co-sign for me, pay my first months rent, and find me donated items to fill up my new apartment with, however, I was still responsible for keeping up with the rent. I miraculously survived my high school years taking care of myself, riding buses, working at Denny's, only to join the ARMY soon after. It was a struggle that I have grown to love, because that was just a taste of what was coming.
After the ARMY, I had nothing. Maybe some benefits to jump into school, 2 bags of clothes, 1 guitar, and a heart full of depression. It was at this point that I hit rock bottom. I let my depression spiral out of control till I found myself doing drugs like cocaine, which only caused my life to seem that much more smaller. I carelessly slopped through life in self hatred and of course, homeless. I managed to blow right through the little savings I accumulated while in the ARMY till I was on my last $200. The feeling of suicide started creeping in closer and closer with every dollar I blew on either alcohol or cocaine, until one day I heard a song from my childhood back in Ireland called "The Fields of Athenry".
! ["The Fields of Athenry" ] (
Instantaneously I began to think of my grandparents who raised me, and how they didn't raise the failing twat I allowed myself to become. I quickly felt regret that I had allowed so much self-loathing to dictate my life till the point of suicide. It was a literal 180 degree turn around that formulated the craziest thought I have ever musterd up. I grabbed my 2 bags, grabbed my guitar and with my last $176 I went to the greyhound station and asked "When is the next bus to Los Angeles, California?" The front desk lady looked at me like I was crazy, informed me it was $100 and left at 2 in the mornin. And just like that, I was destined to go to LA knowing not a soul, and going with merely my wits, 2 bags of clothes, a guitar and now $76 dollars left in mi ass pocket. I figured, I was either going to go 110 mph and make something of miself, or i would wither away into non-existence. Knowing the man I am that has learned to grow in life through fire and anger, I knew I could never fail. Because once a man has hit literal rock bottom and is tasting the very ground that he should be running on, there is no where to go for him, but up!
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I got to LA, found a homeless shelter, took a shower, put on my best dress clothes and made my way to the library to develop a resume that would flip my shit life into one that has meaning and success. I remember I hadn't eaten in like 2 days by this point to save my money for what mattered. Printing resumes and bus fairs. I was on fire with an immense amount of anger that burnt through me like an inferno that was ready to demolish the world with one fucking blow. I learned to utilize this very anger to plow right through the hardest part of my life that I had ever faced. See, there is something about the mere simplicity of not eating and growing hungry in a literal sense that has a direct effect on your figurative side of hunger, as well. I searched for days and days till I finally got a bite at an Aerospace company. The owner loved his military veterans, so he offered me a position in his shipping and receiving section. Coming from a shipping and receiving style job in the military, i fit like a glove. I lied about my address and gave them an address to a home that I knew their mailbox was outside in case they sent me anything. I worked for about 2 weeks, surviving on crackers and water, till I finally got my first paycheck. And, what did I do with it, you ask?.......
....I saved it and kept my routine of eating crackers and water, showering with the beach walk showers, and broke a few bills to do laundry at a laundry mat by my work. I kept all of my items hidden under a bridge near the canal. I walked everywhere and listened to music through all of the blood sweat and tears.
Check Back Tomorrow For: (Part 2)
Very interesting and detailed write up! The section that spoke about hitting rock bottom meaning that there's no other place to go but up is right on the mark. Keep em coming, the frankness of your story is boldly refreshing!
Thank You So Much, I will do!
Nice one! An interesting read.