Homeless to Here

 Can you believe it's been 2 weeks already since I was here? 

Wow, it's Monday and I am exhausted.

I started the new position as an SDR today. 

How could I not start this post with...

HAPPY FREEDOM DAY!

Today is the day Sydney siders are free to live their lives again. 

I suppose I was expecting to feel a little more excited but in all honesty, nothing has changed.

Without having friends and family to celebrate with, what makes this day so special?

Maybe on the weekend when I go out for my birthday I will be more inclined to speak highly on such an iconic day. 

The rain has been falling heavily. Like the skies are dispersing all the negativity from the last 3 months and showering us with something new. 

The flashbacks have returned. 

I wonder if everyone else goes through phases where they are temporarily taken to a pastime.

Do we all remember the family I lived with after the house was raided?

There I was, typing away at work when the memories returned like movie scenes.

When I was homeless, I had told my friend who I spent a lot of time with that I was being picked up from this car park.

In reality, I was without a bed or shelter and didn't want to burden him with the logistics. 

So, there I slept in a kindergarten car park while the rain saturated my surroundings.

Laptop in a bag and 2 days' worth of clothes, I set up on the concrete.

I spent hours calling my family and friends who denied me a place to go and curled up in a ball sobbing.

What was I to do? Staring at the drops falling on a slant in the wind, wiping my tears away, I told myself this wasn't the place for me. 

I had enough money in my account for 1 uber but I had nowhere to ride it.

The last people I wanted to disturb at such an early hour of the morning was in fact the family that took me in after everything fell beneath me. 

It was so late none of them had replied to my messages and the weather was increasing in severity.

30 minutes drive to their house and I freaked. Afraid of what they will say, I ran to a park around the corner. Telling myself over and over again that I can sleep in a park with the rain pouring.

After 30 more minutes, I came to the realisation that I really couldn't spend another moment crying so I ran to their house.

Quietly knocking, once, twice, 10 times, they answered.

Tears of humiliation and pain poured even harder from my face. 

They had told me my car was at the mechanics which was why I wasn't sleeping in my car, however when I arrived at their house, my car was parked out front of their home. 

I guess that was also a kick in the gut. 

It took me an hour to close my eyes even in the comfort of a home and bed because my headache felt like food in a blender. 

My vision returned and I was back in my studio apartment, working my ass off at my day job. 

Sometimes I forget the moments like the one I just spoke about.

For a second I am bewildered. 

I suppose embarrassed to ever be in that situation which is probably why I had forgotten about it for so long. 

We tend to push back and suppress memories that we find difficult to cope with. 

I have plenty of moments like these. 

I was homeless for maybe 3-4 weeks and those were some of the hardest weeks of my life. Finally finding a bed or a home to stay in and being so stressed about where I was to go next to enjoy the peace. 

There really is no peace without a roof over your head.

My mother wouldn't let me stay with her because of her boyfriend, my brother was sharing with a friend and could only have me for a while and my friends' parents only allowed me to stay a couple days a time. Of course, I had a best friend who said I could stay for a couple weeks and the night I slept on the car park floor was the night she locked her doors, turned her phone off and told me she needed time with her partner.

I guess you could say I let her know how I had felt.

After weeks of couch surfing while still in school, my friends stepfather offered me to stay at his home.

On the first night I stayed, I made tea, sat on the bed and made a sigh of relief. Ahh, a home.

10 minutes later, while the kettle was still hot, my old friends broke in and chased me out. 3 on 1.

They saw the kettle was freshly boiled and made an effort to intimidate me till I had to leave. Calling my friend who lived close by, I hid in the room until he was at the door, and when I went to leave they all stood there blocking the way, disallowing me to easily make an escape.

The stepfather called me apologizing for what had happened. Crying, I said it's okay and told him I would find somewhere else to go close to midnight. 

The generous man he was, he gave me the name of a motel. As I arrived, he paid for me to stay there an entire week. 

I can breathe again!

But of course, only for a couple days. 

As great as having a bed was, I was 17-18 and homeless, enrolled full time at school, standing alone in a motel room, had no food, and unable to reach my parents who wanted nothing to do with me.

After a while, it was too much. 

I grew up with everything. I was never without up until the final years of high school.

This whole dynamic of being broke, having no support, and no love or compassion from my family was a concept my siblings and I never had to face.

That's not the family my parents brought up.

It's not like I was born with shitty parents who didn't care and a mother that was always addicted to drugs.

We went to expensive private, Christian schools, travelled, ate out, had lots of pets, someone to cry to...

Between my brother and I's psychologist, psychiatrist, counselling, dietitian, sports training sessions, music lessons, language classes, we had it all.

Hell, one year my dad bought me a brand new Mac Book and gave me my first 2 cars for the price of learning how to change a tyre, oil and drive a manual. 

I never saw myself severely underweight, without a home, disconnected from those that raised me. 

Not long after all of this took place I had my formal and graduation. 2 of the saddest milestones that I had wished to come for years. 

Without my friends, A dress that no longer fit and DIY makeup while my friends flaunted $1,000 AUD dresses with $300+ between hair and makeup and everything else glam. 

I walked down the red carpet, took some photos and left with my boyfriend. 

Anyway back to where we were - 

After I was homeless for quite a few weeks my brother came to save the day.

He didn't have much money at the time but he was working.

Dad did his magic from afar as always and Tim got an apartment for the two of us in Surfers Paradise. 

It took a while for it to sink in that I wasn't in trauma territory anymore and for my brain to accept that everything was finally okay. 

Young me definitely took advantage of my brother and father at that time. 

As I've said before, I felt like the world owed me something. 

I was so angry and upset for being fresh 18, homeless, without family and still in school that I just didn't want to listen to anyone.

I wonder if I have these flashbacks of my worst phases in life when I am at my best. 

Almost as if my heart and body are reminding me of who I am and where I was so I can appreciate where I am now. 

Bloggers,

life is extraordinary.

Many times I closed a chapter, some I didn't want to and some I had to and some I was so glad to be done with. 

There were a thousand days that I said, "I'm done".

Probably even more days I really was done.

I chose to not be done.

I fell 1002 times and I got back up 1003.

I told myself that I was going to do it.

I reminded myself that no one was going to help me.

These memories where I was left with nothing but absolute emptiness and isolation gave me the strength to make things happen on my own. 

You have to be stripped bare, without any resources before you stop leaning on others and expect more from the people that can't give it to you. 

I still have my moments, I am only human. 

But looking back at that 17-year-old version of me, not only feels like 300 lifetimes ago but makes me truly see and be proud of the woman that I am now.

& I can't wait to have a daughter that I can guide through every obstacle like mine never did. 

Shelter her from all of these tragedies that come with a lack of support.

I will never allow my children to be in the situations that I have been in. 

Not as long as I am breathing. 

My daughter will be taught respect, kindness, forgiveness, strength and when to walk away from a situation that does not bring her up or bring her great opportunities nor serve her purpose.