After I lost my job, then the apartment, and my family completely disowned me and wouldn’t believe I had thousands of resumes out, I ended up on the street as well.
My first night was in early spring just after the snow melted, all i had was long underwear and my healy hanson, shivered all night. Id sold all my possessions previously to pay rent as long as possible, so I didnt have much aside from cloths, and the work boots.
The first night I slept on the cold ground outside the city, couldnt have a fire… the next three days I was in a dark place mentally. Managed to grab a few wood boards to get me off the ground. It was hard to not just want to shut down or throw a rope over a tree. Actually the police chopper that flew 100ft over head every day motivated me I suppose. No doubt had me on flir, people doing what i was doing must have been common enough to be worth patrolling the perimeter of the city. Hard to believe its illegal to exist unless you pay a land lord…
My pride finally broke down and I went to the gov building seeking social assistance, only to find out that if i had done so during that period of time i was selling my furniture to pay rent, they could have helped me… but now without a mailing address i was told politely to **** off. Actually it really wasnt polite at all… the second social worker i talked to was suggesting a padded room… Didn’t go back after that.
Fought like hell to get off the street afterwords, had to put up with a lot of bullshit from people who let me use there couch over the next month, and by some stroke of miracle I landed a part time job, just enough to rent a room with 8 china men and feed myself, transportation was still 2 feet and a heart beat. More expensive every year for transit, that year it was take the bus or eat… pick one…
Managed to get myself into a better position at a different kitchen with my 100% clear criminal record at a casino, then the owners sold the building and i got fired/replaced, probably by some ******* on a six month visa…
Thats about the time i started building my kit… had managed to save some money up by eating kraft dinner and other bachalor food, for six months ( take fiber pills…) and built up a basic food supply.
Been prepping ever since i googled, “why cant i find a job”.
More than a few experiences i care not to remember. It wasn’t that survival was hard, it was the label and social isolation. People think you want to be on the street, cause that is there fucked up view of homelessness. That its a choice… *big middle finger*
I lost many of my pre conceived beliefs about right and wrong during that experience. It left me very bitter.
I am still un employed, tho I have two options available for work, neither is satisfactory, just enough to get by if I where to move back to a main city… or, if i want to suck up sulphir in prince george and get brain lesions…
It might get better now that our canadian government has been exposed letting in immigrants who will work for less than minimum in lue of canadians like me. But i doubt it.
Wracked my brain for a long year on what my options where. Talked with my father, the only family member I have managed to salvage, and now we are gold prospecting. We found the first tid bit of gold he has ever found in his life this year, next year I hope to find a deposit large enough to pull off my next goals.
I will never work for anyone else ever again… never had a good boss.
one thing that makes me smile tho, after that first boss fired me a week before xmass i just happened to be walking by his house one summer afternoon months later while he and his wife where packing the rv. ****** couldnt stop shaking, he knew exactly what he did to me, he and his group spent months trying to get rid of me, finally gave up and cut me a check… fuckin drug addicts…
Never be afraid to do the righteous thing, nothing righteous is ever easy.