Random : kitchen on Colfax
Say hello to Akusua (that’s me) Say Hello to the homeless Denver (Facebook page)
Say Hello to Akusua.
Akusua follows this page and met up with me so I could document her story.
As we met she and I embraced. Her hug felt good. Her face was so beautiful and she was so open to sharing….why…so we could all learn and perhaps understand homelessness a little better.
I have found myself thinking of her daily and hope you think of her too after this initial post.
Akusua was born and raised in Dallas, Texas in the neighborhood of Oak Cliff.
She is in her 30’s and first became homeless in 2001.
She was a student and her mother was struggling with schizophrenia. Truly, they had been struggling for a very long time.
She confesses she has gone through homelessness at different stages of her life. From Dallas they tried to make a new life in New Mexico. In their homelessness hey went from motel to motel and shelter to shelter. Sometimes in her homelessness she has lived on the streets.
She wants to point out a lot of shelters are unsafe, (Bedbugs, sickness, fighting, etc.) so sometimes she felt sleeping outside was the best viable option.
“You know, Can’t feel anything in the bitter cold…I’ve been scared of freezing to death before.”
I ask about her mothers, her eyes look away and I tell her it’s okay not to talk about that and she confesses it’s too raw. I could feel her pain, I could feel her sadness. Imagine having a mom that you had to fight for as a child. She had a mother that tried to provide but due to lack of mental health care, it fell short. I knew Akusua had to grow up faster than my own daughter and do and see thing my own child didn’t have to and I felt a pit in my stomach. I wanted to grieve right there but held it in until I got home home. —It should not go unnoticed that realize I had a safe place to breakdown and again that was something my new friend didn’t have.
I asked this beautiful soul, “What do you want people to know about homelessness”.
She answered, “First, is it can happen to anyone.” “I’m no drug addict.”
She does admit she is starting to see perhaps an illness of a mental nature pop up in herself.
“I’m trying to find myself.”
Know that I, along with other homeless go through sleep deprivation and losing ourselves.
“Homeless all share the feeling of searching and being alone.”
“Homeless struggle with the feeling of being invisible.”
“We need eye contact and hellos.”
“Every human needs these basic things to make it.”
She is currently living inside and wanted to share her success but even today she has many struggles.
I asked if I could bring her anything and she thanked me and refused but I did happen to get her birthday out of her. It’s Dec 20th and I’m hoping someone may feel compelled to send her a card for her special day.
If you would like to send a card please send it to:
Facing Homelessness Denver
C/O Akusua
834-F S Perry St
Suite 545
Castle Rock, CO 80104
Much love to you all.
Please share this post if you know someone that could send her a birthday card and I’ll make sure she gets them all on her special day.
#justsayhello
On backpacks & the bag Lady & pushcart man
We all carry ‘luggage’ both physically and emotionally and metaphorically. However, most of us are physically and socially privileged to have spaces somewhere where we can keep the baggage.
When you become homeless, you lose those spaces to keep yourself, your family and your shit safe.
When you become homeless, you are constantly asked if not demanded to give up more of your shit, only take what you can carry in one hand or one backpack. Nothing more.
We all have things that we carry that is meaningful to us. It may look like trash because they’re in trash bags or grocery bags or shopping carts or backpacks, but they’re not.
If you were suddenly put out because of increase in rent, loss of income, home violence, etc.,
and you have a very limited amount of time with no where else to go but to pack yourself and your loved ones , what would you take with you ?
Think about all your clothes, shoes, kids favorite toys and schoolbooks; toiletries, paperwork of phone numbers to friends and family and social services ? Medications and/or favorite alcohol or whatever you need to cope. Your phone, charger and wallet ? Sandwiches ?
Photographs of your first born, your graduation, your grandma or Tia cooking and laughing, your homies dancing and drinking, people who gone missing or to the other side or just gone,
Could you give that up to make ‘needed space’ cause the load is already too heavy.
Navigating mental health services (formerly homeless perspective)
When I was homeless, I started seeking services@ MHCD. I needed so many things but my brain was broken and I was in a very paranoid state.
A lot of times the homeless are forced to ‘self advocate’ for the mental health services and services in general. I have memories of walking myself to Denver health at night while paranoid
I needed someone to listen and understand how badly I wanted to die, but at the same time didn’t.
I had to figure out how to get there, how to make sense to me hospital staff, how to trust them, how to not hurt myself or others. I had to do that with this broken brain.
There was a time the hospital would release me at night with me having to figure out how to get back to the shelter. I have a memory of when I lived in Dallas with my mother, the VA released her not only at night, but the power was off and it was one of the worst winter’s in the neighborhood. I never forgave the VA hospital for that shit.
When I started at MHCD, I was so scared and anxious. How do I put my trust in them when my relationship with mental health services has been abusive.
Something that I want to mention is taking medications while homeless. Most psych meds will knock you out immediately which is dangerous when you have nowhere safe to sleep and that includes homeless shelters.
At MHCD I was told to choose between a therapist or case manager. It’s a pretty fucked up deal. I had to choose between help for my mind or help finding housing. Granted, I had a psychiatrist (an asshole, btw) but no therapist or support group. I would have to find a therapist elsewhere while finding affordable housing and trying to survive the streets. That was my damn job. Can’t put it on a resume, but that was my job.
Now, I’m in a different situation where I have housing and a therapist but I need much more. See, Medicaid no longer pays so it’s out of pocket, meaning I go a lot less.
I have a different psychiatrist but I have been struggling. Usually I’m not that aware of how bad off I am because this has been my normal since childhood. Also, once again my meds aren’t anywhere as effective.
Well, just wanted to share
Navigating the mental health world pt 1
I sat in an empty office for my psychiatrist via Skype. We discussed symptoms, weight gain, nightmares and old torments. We exchange words like trauma, PTSD or whatever else I learned in past psych classes and past psych wards.
Ever feel like you are discussing a form of business about your mind and are expected to be super calm and logical and yet convince them you really are not ?
It’s a weird conversation when you are labeled crazy and prove either you are that crazy, a different crazy or not at all (at the moment) So when I’m talking about my mind as if I’m reviewing a horror movie I’ve seen too many times.
And I wonder ‘Am I crazy enough to be crazy ?’ Am I crazy enough to really do and be what my demon say that I am ? I mean who can say, but I got labels on labels and I got (mis) diagnoses according to however that psychiatrist was feeling about me as human, Black woman, patient, etc.
I got pill bottles in crates, I got fucked up reactions to past and present meds that require different meds
I got recommendations for more therapy, support groups and more drugs. This is what they mean when they call you a ‘consumer’, no ?
I get to do this again in July, two weeks before my mother’s birthday when the desire to commit suicide becomes most potent.
There is a trauma of explaining oneself, having to break self apart again, show the scars for validation to professionals and everyone else. Being told what your pain is and what it is not and what you need to calm you down.
Pain gets minimized, categorized and cleaned of complications. Pain gets returned to me as a package with new labels, drugs and appointments.
toasoulthathasbeenabused 