Living without home, fine tunes one’s antennae to recognize others of like situation. Meaning, just as recovered alcoholics can readily spot each other, so too here. Hardly a day goes by that there isn’t a new silk shirted body taking a shower at the Santa Monica bike path shower, or a new BMW parked at McDonalds while it’s owner uses the facilities in the middle of the night.
This is a new breed of homeless. People are losing their homes and pretending that they aren’t. And no wonder, as a foggy glaze slips down over the eyes and energy of those that we tell with a “What did you do wrong? I don’t want to catch it, and please don’t ask anything of me” as plain as day.
Divorce fall-out often includes a total make-over on friendships. Shared friends slide one way or the other, but ultimately often disappear altogether. The scaling down of lifestyle, a common consequence, lowers the ceiling on social activities and again, a gradual shift off into finding those that are equals.
The community among the outed homeless is strong. In fact, without the distractions that more moneyed people delight in, the connecting quality is much more prevalent here. Also, as survival is more immediate, communities form for protection. The un-outed are isolated. This is the clan that my husband and I fall into. They are neither here nor there with ‘who’ they are. The fact of having no income or cushion, creates a separation from the old lifestyle, but the denial and unwillingness to be open prevents relationships with like-situation people. This added to the chaos and distress of the breaking down of the old life causes incredible depression and precarious coping skills. How to put one foot in front of the other when you have no money, no home, no health insurance, no job?
I have no idea how anyone does this without a spiritual life. Faith and hope and vision must be fed to stay alive.