One day you look around and find yourself surrounded exclusively by drug addicts. Park dwellers. The homeless. People you would have crossed the street to avoid. But that was before. Before you started using and prior to the steep slide. Not too long ago you’d had a job, an apartment, a beloved dog. Of course you know that this downturn in your luck is only temporary, but can other people tell by looking at you that you are in with the homeless but not of the homeless? It must be obvious that you don’t really fit in with these people. Your presence must stand out to passers-by. Surely your being silently screams “I am different from these people!”
Whenever you had looked at homeless people before they had always seemed born to be in that position. You had never imagined they were looking around while asking themselves, “how did I get here?”
- Just like you’re doing now. You do not take comfort in the idea that these people can be considered we people. Later, you’ll discover that you had been one of them much longer than you had imagined.