My Experiences With Homelessness

How many of us take small things for granted? How often do we take time to stop and appreciate things like toilet paper? Probably more of us since the pandemic struck, but my point remains intact. Many of us would reason that we don't have time to just sit and think about how good we have it, because we're busy making sure it stays that way. As valid as that is, the fact remains that having small comforts in you life brings you security. The fact that you have a bed means you'll have a comfortable place to sleep, four walls protect you, and if you've paid your bills, you'll be warm and dry.

I didn't always realize what I had to lose until most of it was gone. You don't always recognize the value of friends, family and basic utilities until they're far out of reach. Homelessness in western Canada can be extremely brutal, and I can only be thankful that I wasn't without shelter during the colder months.

Odd as it feels to say, I was fortunate enough to find myself stranded on the streets of Vancouver in late July this year. Covid-19 has had many of us lost and seeking any form of employment; it's left many of us to figure our own way out. Not all of us have.

I had just gotten off the plane and was finding my way out of the airport. I had plans to stay with a friend in Surrey, but they had fallen through. I had booked the cheapest hotel I could find, although I could only afford one night. I followed the GPS on my phone and after two hours of walking in the sun, I discovered a man-made marvel: Sky trains.

The hotel I had booked on East Hastings was not what I had expected; but then again, neither was Hastings. I had experienced poverty and even homelessness before, but that was in my own, considerably smaller, city. This was much different: the street was so crowded that I was never sure whether I was stepping on people or their belongings. The entire area surrounding this long, legendary stretch smelled like every drug I had ever encountered, and... more. The flea markets were insanely cool, and I did spend some time looking, despite having no spare money to spend. I had no idea where these items had come from, but if it was in demand, someone had it laid out on the street. I was offered crack three times on the way to the hostel, and there were many more encounters to come. There was open prostitution happening right on the road. These people didn't seem to fear anything, and I was happy that for the night, I'd be indoors, regardless of where the building was.

I was not in luck. Here in British Columbia, most hotels and/or reputable businesses will require that you have either a driver's license, or a credit card before they'll consider doing business with you. If you haven't guessed it yet, I'll spoil it for you: I had neither of those things.

I wasn't safe that night. I walked all night, refusing to let my guard down, until exhaustion overtook me at last, forcing me to find somewhere to set down. I planned to rest for an hour, but it didn't work out that way. Nothing was going according to plan on this trip.

I woke up the next morning to a man inside my mouth. Up to this point, I had been telling myself that I'd be okay as long as I kept moving and kept exploring all my options. This time I was not okay.

The events following that are a blur, but I got away from the gross, biodegradable man and continued walking until I found a bathroom to hide in. I didn't cry, and the initial fear had vanished. Looking back, I think I was in shock. I couldn't believe that this had only been the first night. Even months later after being homeless in a large city, I still have a very difficult time getting to sleep. I shake at night, and every so often I can't resist the urge to get up and confirm there's nobody in the room with me.

I spent the day surveying my new stomping ground. If I had any consistent thoughts running through my head at that point, they of surviving the night and keeping out of harm's way. I would worry about tomorrow when tomorrow came.

The first thing I did was to confirm shelters nearby. I managed to find a place with mandatory showers, weekly laundry, and a no-nonsense mindset. It was perfect, and even served breakfast at 7am. The next day I looked for food supplies. I was waiting on a CERB cheque, my final payout during lockdown. I would find somewhere to stay permanently and seek employment, in either order. But after night two, I wasn't mentally capable of staying where I was anymore: nobody was normal here, it seemed.

Not every experience was bad, though. Travelling from city to city was incredible: it almost made my whole ordeal feel like an adventure, if anything. This was my life now, "David the Drifter, seeing the best of the world one city at a time." I knew it was dumb, but humor has always been something of a defense mechanism for me, and I think I was desperate to find any enjoyment in life to continue.

My ordeal continued for awhile, and I got used to the lifestyle, despite the new surroundings. I didn't eat much, and I slept even less. But the man in the alley was not my most dangerous encounter, so I got used to not sleeping much.

This was, without a doubt, one of the lowest points of my life. Having to steal my food, or rummage through someone's trash for pizza crusts was humbling to say the least. I would never wish this on anyone, and I hate that such poverty is so common. In the future, I'd like to open my own shelter, if I ever think I'm ready for such an undertaking.

As of now, I'm alright. I've moved in with my parents, I can sleep in my own bed, and I get to see my daughter every week. The pandemic isn't making the job search any easier, but I'm focusing on growing as a person as well. I'm taking the time to appreciate the small things, the basic things, and the annoyingly precious things. As a young, single dad, I have responsibilities, and I'll never let my daughter experience any such hardships.

Thanks for reading! I'm a young guy, but I have a lot more experiences I'd like to write about, good or bad. There's something about writing and posting online that makes us vulnerable, but it's a great way to face things within yourself, and reach others that have had similar experiences. I think words hold a lot of power, so if anyone likes this then I'll continue to write here.

Until next time.