homeless


patchen3

If you give up and surrender then change can come into your life. I have to give up all of my beliefs, all of my concepts, and start over. Re-learn the world. Like a toddler, I will simply stumble around in a gleeful blissful state of not knowing anything. Because everything I have learned, everything I have believed in, everything I thought I knew has been wrong.  I believed I had a chance of  an increase in my hours at work. I believed that I might be making more money and be able to improve my living situation, I believed that things couldn’t get worse, I believed that I had a chance.  Well I’m not getting more hours at work, I’m not going to be making more money. In fact, I’ve even had an hour cut from my schedule. It’s just an hour, but still.  I believed that I could pull myself out of this hole of depression and madness. I believed that I was funny and attractive. I believed that I could carry off faking it a little longer.

It’s all off the table. I’m going to surrender. And I think surrendering to some form of god is the only thing left for me. I don’t know which form of god. But I have to give myself up to something bigger than myself. Let someone or something else take over for a while. Cleanse my mind, my soul, my body. Wipe the slate clean and start over. What am I talking about? I don’t know . I’m on the reference desk and slightly sedated with the help of some valium in order to make it through the day without a constant stream of tears running down my face. Crying is cleansing but it also wrecks your makeup and makes you look like a crazy person on the reference desk.  I bought some Lotto tickets.  I’m taking my dog to the rescue people next week. I’m going to have my paycheck garnished by several creditors. But in the end it’s only money. My daughter has relatives who can care for her if I cannot. We’ll just wait and see what happens.  I like valium.

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Life has taken some odd, unfortunate and even curious turns lately. During December I experienced something similar to Dante’s various levels of hell. Mostly self-induced. I have ended up with some disrupted vertebrae, a slight hand fracture and a stark and rather bleak harsh look at my life. It ain’t pretty folks. My obsession with the boy has made it very tough to focus on the real work that I have to do but I think the obsession is lifting. And life is going on.

My friends that need me still call. I call them back randomly….. if  I can or if want to. The point is that they are my friends and they understand. My best is what they recall. For that i am grateful. Life is relentless. A plea or a challenge? An insidious question…….? And the mechanics breaking down around me as I speak…. the car, the computer, the all…….. at least i have a roof over my head for now….. i know grateful…………………

This day at the library has pushed me over the edge. I spent about an hour listening to an older Romanian gentleman telling me the story of his life but I could only understand about every 5th word he was saying…something about all the money he had and a woman he married who stole his jewelry although he had bought her a Lamborghini . And yadda yadda yadda… it finally dawned on me that perhaps he was a little nuts but I was kind of getting into just smiling and nodding. And thinking about that $1,800 car repair bill I have to pay tomorrow…. hmmm……  As I was still recovering from that interaction, another older guy came in and asked about getting a book so I flat out asked him “do you have a Lamborghini ?””” as I and the other librarian were rolling on the floor laughing… and the man says “no, but I have a BMW”… so I was trying to get him an ILL but he said he was on his way to the Carribean at which point I said wait till you get back to do this dude, but if you want me to go to the Carribean with you I will.  Of course, this is all highly inappropriate and unprofessional but hey! I’ve got bills to pay people.  I have 2.5 hours left in this shift and I just am praying to the god of Lamborghinis that I make it through without totally losing it.

 

This is why I wanted to be a librarian: to help people. To help. But I think most people nowdays view me as a bitter cynic – not a hopeful or helpful person. But then that one guy will walk in the library and break my heart into pieces and mend it at the same time. The old homeless smelly man who still has his dignity .. who tells me he’s “new to the library membership” and needs a library card and wants some random DVDs… and while I wonder how and where he will use the DVDs I still want to get him everything I can get for him because he still has his dignity and he asks so nicely despite his dirty clothes,  matted hair, swollen face.  He deserves whatever I can help him get. I have always felt that way about everyone. But lately I have forgotten that. I have become cold and tired and exhausted with public service. How can I remind myself ?

My heart is pure in so many ways and so poisoned in so many ways. It’s just what life does to you. I’m ready to start. Ready to be a real person. Finally. Most people reach this decision at a much younger age I suppose but I have to accept that I am on my own timetable. This is where I begin. And if you never begin you are lost.