Originally Posted by FireRanger
In my experience working in cities and hospitals, most homeless people have no interest in getting a job or improving themselves. It is much easier to sit around asking for handouts and then using the handouts to buy cigarettes and booze. I haven't encountered anyone actually interested in anything else yet. Maybe you'll have better luck.
I have teamed up with a local church. This church has about 70 homeless people come in from off the streets for worship and food. Probably about 40 stay for worship. The ones that stay for worship obviously have hopes for something more. Whether that be here or after here. Also, in my experience, half the people that recieved the bags with water, fruit and toiletries helped clean up. i.e. put up chairs, clean bathroom, sweep, pick up garbage. So, I have had better luck than you. You could have the same luck if you would be a little more open minded. I'm gonna give you a link to a newspaper that has articles.
This is an article written by a local homeless man in Jackson, MS.
What does it really mean to be homeless? Loneliness. Despair. Constantly have to look over your back because someone wants to take what’s yours. Or having to defend yourself because they see you as weak or vulnerable. The unsanitary conditions in which you are forced to use the bathroom or take a shower. Trying to sit down somewhere because you’re tired from walking all day and the police coming up and telling you can’t be there. “Time to move along.”
People looking at you like you’re diseased, when the only disease you have is inside your head, which is constantly telling you to harm yourself. Not having the money to take the medication you need to make the voices and the depression go away. Stuck in a position you don’t deserve and can’t handle. Always ready to take that last step to be relieved from the constant struggle to keep your sanity, to make it all just go away forever.
I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink. I was forced into this situation because of a series of events and because of a chemical imbalance in my brain that has gotten progressively worse over the years. I’m one of the invisible many sitting under a bridge or walking down the sidewalk on Gallatin Street. You’ve already judged me. I’m one of society’s castoffs. Better for me to just take one last breath and fade away forever so I won’t be judged as a crack head or an alcoholic or have you wonder what diseases I’m infested with.
The voices, the depression are my only constant companions. There’s no hope for me and I have nowhere to go, no place to escape the mind-numbing heat or the storms that are producing tornadoes. I guess I really am a throwaway.