SNWJ: The Beautiful Mess Series: You Don't Know Me
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You Don’t Know Me
John Paul Derryberry
The Beautiful Mess Series: Not everyone beats cancer but we rightfully celebrate the fact that everyone fights the diagnosis. Not everyone wins their battle with mental health, but we only praise the people who overcome. This series examines why we need to change this view of mental health.
Remember we are using the pronoun “They” in these blog in an effort to shield revealing details about the people I’m writing about.
The Introduction blog http://jpderryberry.com/blog/mess
Story 1: http://jpderryberry.com/blog/themariojumper
Story 2: http://jpderryberry.com/blog/the-escape-artist
Story 3: http://jpderryberry.com/blog/theoldtownbully
Story 4: http://jpderryberry.com/blog/neverbeenkissed
Story 5: http://jpderryberry.com/blog/ithreup
You Dont’t Know Me
The sound of their voice gave it all away: another relationship, another error of bad judgment. The life they dreamed of had slipped through their fingers, due to blindspots about the type of person they attracted. They slumped against the doorway, and that said it all. "I'm tired of this life," screamed from their fatigued face. Homelessness does this to everyone that it gets its grubby hands on.
As this person sat in the job lab, filling out countless online applications, their children played in the background, being entertained by the intern. It's what they had requested. They just wanted their kids kept busy so they could focus on filling out job applications. Their kids where always in search of attention. The job-seeker apologized to the intern about how energetic they were. The intern shook off the apology and stated, "Kids are supposed to have energy, no worries, my pleasure to hang out with some smart, fun kids today." This reply allowed a little stress to flake off their shoulders.
Another well meaning volunteer also was in the computer lab. The volunteer asked the parent why they were applying for nursing jobs and not an entry-level position. The homeless parent flashed anger toward the volunteer and muttered, because "I have my degree in nursing. I'm not homeless because I'm uneducated, I'm homeless because I have a bad taste in partners." The intern chimed in, "I can sympathize with that. There was one person who, well, I'm not going into details, but life would have sucked if I'd ended up with them." The parent nodded in agreement and went back to filling out the applications.
The parent and the intern chatted every other day for a couple of weeks. They shared that their partner had cleared out the bank accounts when they dipped back to their home town. They chatted about judgment and how American culture presumes and stereotypes. And, they talked about how, when their case manager offered financial courses so they could better save their money, they had laughed at this case manager and said, "I'm in here because my money was in savings. I need dating classes. Do you have any of those?"
This person was stand-offish with most people, labeled by some as unwilling to accept help. Yet, in every job lab, they chatted with the intern about next steps. They commented that they would be more agreeable to everyone here if there weren't such assumptions about them. "My significant other took everything away except my kids and my pride about how I achieved a stable life to begin with." As tears welled up, they continued, "If I give these people my pride, I'd be useless to my kids." The intern slid the box of Kleenex across the table and said, "It's not your pride;, it's your knowledge that people are attempting to take away. You have a degree in nursing, yet they assume that because you are homeless, you are uneducated."
The parent wiped away a tear and said, "No one is taking my education away. It's what got me into a stable life. It's what will rebuild my life." The intern nodded in agreement. The kids came pouring into the room, hugged their parent, and asked how the search was going. The parent said, "It's going good. There are some jobs my education and knowledge are a fit." They went back to typing, and the kids retreated to the intern who had a game all set up for them to play. The homeless parent smiled, a determined, beautiful smile. Their life is held together by strands, but an educated, undaunted adult can turn strands into a beautiful garment.