Sunday, December 25, 2016

Musings on being without a home at Christmas



So, this is the third Christmas I've spent in a homeless hostel. Now, this is not so much to do with the fact that my family have abandoned me, but more so with the fact that everyone has a barring order against me, for example; I'm not allowed visit my grandparents (it's a long story...and it has little to do with me...don't ask). So, the closest I've gotten to my two little cousins in the past three years is a phone call at Christmas. I suppose it gives them an excuse to talk to me. That is the wonderful thing about Christmas after all; people put their grudges aside and decide to be nice, just for that one day. I only wish it was kept up the remainder of the year. Love isn't restricted to one day after all. My mother booked me into a hotel for Christmas, and was planning to leave me there, eating up her money, while she spent Christmas eve and day with her boyfriend. I walked out of the hotel, and returned her gifts. That, as far as I'm concerned, is not the purpose of Christmas. Basically, it's a celebration of Jesus Christ's birth, and traditionally it's a time when family and loved ones correlate and get together, yet somewhere along the way, people like my mother think booking her daughter into a cold hotel on Christmas day, and then pissing off is 'more than enough'. Her company is all I want and need at this time of year. So, I went back to the hostel, got my free dinner, watched the TV in the empty communal area, chatted to the staff, rang my dad, and as the song goes had myself a 'merry little christmas', well, as merry as is could be.



Yes, it's a pity that I can't invite anyone into my room to spend a few hours with me, and that feeling is intensified at this time of year, I suppose, and it is that thirst for human interaction that riles you right up when muscly Pavel at reception starts flexing his biceps behind the desk. I'm not the first woman who's admitted to wanting to drag him into their room, arms flailing, to have their wicked way.

And, that's another trend I've noticed, unrelated to Christmas, being in this situation riles men and women up in all the most unmentionable ways possible. There is an undeniable trend that runs through the veins of my fellow homeless compadres (apart from heroine), and that is a high level of promiscuity. It's obvious, in many ways, why this would be the case, yet, so many people are kicked on their arses by their parents or spouses without a seconds thought given to the fact that this person is inevitably going to seek comfort in the arms of a creepy Pavel or Stefan (who'd be more than happy to fake affection in order to satisfy their need). I've been homeless for three years, and innumerous men have picked up on my feelings of isolation and desperation, and tried very hard to take advantage of that. Thankfully, I am not a stranger to using the word 'fuck off' and can put it to constructive use where necessary. However, not everyone is that strong. I know girls, who've had dozens of men since entering these places. It's a high threshold environment, and it makes for 'high threshold' girlfriends. I know a woman who, out of desperation, initiated a relationship with an ex convict from Latvia, who took advantage of her warm heart, and drained her of the little energy she had for herself. He would follow her to the social welfare office and steal her money, he also broke both of her legs and jaw at one stage, all because she gave him her time. She already struggled with alcoholism, and he came along, and just made sure to break her entirely. It's a bit like Irish college, where they're all sheep shaggers, but you're so desperate that even farmer Joe starts to look appealing. Only instead of farmers, you have zimo heads, and instead of 'specky four eyes', you have an ex convicts from Poland (with two phones held together with duct tape). I suspect that many girls are off spending their Christmas with these duds, as most people end up losing their friends once they catch wind of their situation. Most people don't want any kind of association with a homeless friend, as it brings to head what a mess this person's life is. My friend *Jen literally dropped me like a hot plate once she discovered where I was. So, it's no wonder long term homeless people find comfort in other homeless people (who are also in dire straits). It's really quite nonsensical; two stressed out and exhausted individuals, stressing each other out even further. It starts out with imposing what you need on a person, on this struggling (probable criminal), and it ends in an inevitable disappointment when you realise there is nothing to them, but pain and grief. It's almost as if you're not high on drugs, you're high on delusions.



So this brings me back to the current moment, it's 1.30am and Christmas is officially over. I spent it like any other day, but I had some peace of mind, and got a free meal from the restaurant around the corner, and a big ole hamper of clothes and food. Coming from the people who have been looking out for my welfare for the past three years, it means more to me than a cold empty hotel room that's costing my mother a bomb. I got to talk to my family, and that means a lot to me, and tomorrow I'll ring those I didn't get a chance to ring today.

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