It was actually good that I took the trip up to Harlem on Thursday to look at the kind of place that I never, ever want to be in again. It reminded me of how much I never want to be in a place like that ever again. I’ve been comfortably sheltered from the realities of the homeless shelter environment in New York. Sure, I’ve been in a controlled environment with more limitations on my activities than I usually prefer, with people I may not particularly want to spend time with. It’s far from being Passages, Malibu…but it’s a far cry from the kind of places I’ve had to lay my head in rougher times.
The experience made me appreciate what I do have and the news that I would be getting a decent and stable living arrangement, likely by the time it’s 2024, which is less than a month away. Of course, I’m happy to be moving on from long-term residential rehab. I’m happy I stuck it out, and I’m proud of a lot of the things I’ve done since I got here.
I’m also up at night, afraid of the unknown, doing that thing where I imagine all the possibilities of things that could go wrong before I even know what they are, and not thinking of all the things that could go right. I have been trying to examine my thinking, and where it doesn’t serve me, with the help of my wonderful counselor. I don’t think anyone who has lived through the kind of events that I have would be without fear of more terrible things happening; I think some fear is healthy.
When I got here, everyone I came in with was in a rush to get their first pass to go out, visit their people, or just be free to go somewhere besides the facility. Many of them couldn’t wait to get a job and be back working. Not me. I was relieved to be somewhere safe and very timid about the outside world. For the first month or two, I didn’t go anywhere but out to the bodega next door to buy a cigarette, and around the corner to smoke it on these supervised smoke breaks known as ‘nature walks.’ I could have taken 8–12 hour free passes to wherever I wanted to go, but I didn’t. It’s not like I had family in this city to visit or anywhere to be, so I just dug in. I saw a lot of people go out and not come back, or get their first paycheck and run off. I’ve even seen some of them come back, and have to start over, even worse off than they were in the first place. I eventually took a few of these passes, but honestly, I doubt I’ve taken more than 7 to 10 in the whole of the 14, going on 15 months since I got here last September.
I just figured, if I don’t have any particular place to be, what business do I have wandering around New York City aimlessly? I already spent months and years doing that when I very literally had no place to go. It’s one thing to have a job to go to or decide to go get something to eat; it’s another to be loitering around just for the sake of it.
I was kind of selling myself short, though. There is something I always liked about taking a subway somewhere, and walking a good 10–15 blocks for the sake of looking at the city and getting a little physical activity (which I’m quite lacking in, mostly). I’m not as wide-eyed and enamored with the city as I once was, but it can get me back to that state of mind at random moments when I see something that I know isn’t possible anywhere else.
I don’t know if the kind of supportive housing that I am eligible for and about to move into is possible anywhere else; I know it isn’t in Boston. I may have the cynical belief that we live in a late capitalist, post-apocalyptic nightmare where society doesn’t give a care about marginalized poor people, but I find some hope in the forward-thinking, very socialist approach that this city takes to combat homelessness, even if it does take a long time. I only wish the rest of the country would take note, as there is literally no reason for anyone to be homeless.
So, let’s just look at my little trajectory in an anecdote I’ve taken to saying that makes me chuckle: ‘Listen, if you come to New York and mess up your life bad enough by huffing electronics cleaner, you can discover you’re a decent writer, a decent singer, end up in a film, and get somewhere to live for free.’ I can’t recommend it for everyone, especially due to the side effects of being stabbed and hit by a beige Honda Accord, but it seems to be working for me, at least from where I stand at this moment.
