This evening’s topic: When Lazarus Was Homeless.
Albeit, not for long- but homeless, nevertheless.
Jotting back a few years ago…I was doing well (alright….poorly) in my 17 year old existence. My home life was in shambles due to my alcoholic brother, and my ever growing drug addiction in general. I had been pissing my entire family off because of my failing grades, my complete and utter discord for school.
Then, the night happened where my brother became so inebriated with tequila, he pushed me up against our second story bay window, choked me and with a great red, angry face, sputtered the words, “Do you want me to fucking kill you?”
This anger, of course, was brought upon by his default slurred statement, “You’re just like Dad.” I’d seen it before, and unfortunately, I would see it again.
So, I packed up some clothes, my ID, and left.
I meant to only be gone for a night, two at most. He wouldn’t let me back in the house because I had called the cops on him. I didn’t really have anywhere to go. So, I slept behind a church. I slept behind a church for 16 nights. This was the beginning of my heroin relationship. I had met my dealer/ex-boyfriend here in the soggy gutters- who, coincidentally became a gang member soon after we broke up.
I ambled around aimlessly during the days, strung out and euphoric. I met up with a few people from middle school as I dealt coke and pot as a means to get by. It was a time of a rather grandiose “fuck you” to the world, looking out from my illogical teen eyes.
Thankfully, one of my best friends at the time had found me and allowed me to stay with her for two nights to wash my clothes, to get myself together. I returned to my home, no questions asked to my astonishment. All of my belongings were gone from my bedroom. My brother had poured water on my mattress- why? I have no idea why he did anything.
I made it out alive, obviously. Relatively untouched, unscathed- sans the drug dependency I created for myself. Moral of the story? Don’t stick in a needle in your arm if you ever find yourself homeless. And don’t get stranded in a crime-ridden part of town.
I’m a badass motherfucker now. Nice to meet you.
PS- Look what my girlfriend made me for my birthday. BEST girlfriend, EVER.