Written on 5-28-11
This will be my third night in a shelter. Denver, CO, was never in my master plan as a teen, but neither were a lot of things. I have not used names of the people I have recently met to maintain and respect their privacy.
I believe I began to go crazy (literally) around the summer of 2010. I had been back in Omaha for about 2 years, because my sister needed help. I did my damnest to help her, but to no avail. The house and car my father left us will be sold at auction, about a year from now, because of back taxes. I couldn’t take it; depression, working two jobs, and a strained relationship with my now deceased mother, had taken its toll.
From 2008 till the summer of 2010, I worked at Blackburn under Scott English, he was principal. The job was peace; I worked with the teacher and kids, he gave me space to do it. I was motivated and inspired. I thought I could work two jobs, save money and pay the back taxes. As time went on, I realized it couldn’t happen. I began to become devastated.
In September of 2010, Mr. English left, and Blackburn received a new principal, a Mr. Marisett. Upon meeting him that summer, I was not impressed, I wasn’t inspired. For the first week of that school year, I was on time; then things began to fall apart. I didn’t want to work at Blackburn under this new principal—Mr. Marisett. To me he was a pompous ass, two-faced, and very closed minded. More and more I was taking time off work, or going in late. By the time Christmas break had come, I had already used all my vacation days, sick time, and emergency leave.
The atmosphere at the school was depressing. The staff morale was lower than a snake’s belly and there wasn’t a cohesive senior class. It felt like the kids didn’t want it, the teachers didn’t want it, and the only thing the new administrator did was alienate and separate the administration from the staff.
In late March, I received a letter from Human Resources. It said that if I was late one more time, I would be fired. Only a small part of me cared; I turned in my two week notice on April 15th.
Between my personal, financial issues with the house, my sister being unable to help herself and losing custody of her children, and me being helpless to help, I just started losing it. I was drinking every day, smoking a lot more weed than normally, and the lady I had in my life was not helpful.
In March of 2011, the lease on my apartment was up and I was ready to go; but I had no destination, and had quit my part time job. I had very little savings, bad tags, and no license. I went month to month with my apartment until May. In May I didn’t pay my rent or my light bill, and decided to buy a gun.
My insanity had reached critical. I didn’t want to kill myself immediately, but I wanted to be prepared if I really got into a jam.
So the day I go to get the permit for the gun, the lady I was dating shows up at the police station. She’s freakin’ out because she’s scared I’m going to harm myself—like immediately. I’m pissed because she’s trying to control me and my life. I got the permit, and went back to my apartment, but I didn’t allow her in my apartment, but I began to throw things out. She was sitting in her truck watching me. This went on for about 20 minutes, and then she left. I figured, hell, this is my chance to go get the gun with no drama. So I got the gun, some bullets and went back to the apartment. About 45 minutes later, the police burst through the door, in full body armor, with shields, and pointed guns, then force me to the floor, in my own apartment. This was not because I didn’t pay the rent. Apparently, anyone who knows you, or knows of you, in the state of Nebraska, can petition to have you declared insane or suicidal, and the police will come and take you to the county hospital.
It was Thursday, May 5th (Cinco de Mayo), and I was in a state of shock. I was cool with the police, I was cool with the nurse who did the hospital admittance on me, hell, I was even cool with the staff on the psych-ward floor. I couldn’t figure out whether I was madder, shocked, or over-ran. But I made it through the night, with no sleep aid (drugs) or any medications.
Friday came and I spoke with the doctor. After speaking with her, and some very nice ladies from social services, I believed, that they believed, that I was not suicidal. However, they did need verification from another friend of mine, to offset the petition—so I told them to call my best friend. Because I had bought the gun, and it was out of character for me, he couldn’t and wouldn’t co-sign with me. Therefore, I had to spend the weekend there until a meeting could be held with myself, the doctors, my best friend, and my so-called lady, who petitioned to have me placed there.
The weekend was cool, except no cigarettes, I did get to witness a person with several personalities who was entertaining, and I watched the NBA playoffs. It wasn’t the worst weekend, but hell, it was FAR from the best.
So Monday finally came, and we (doctors, best friend, so called girlfriend) all sat down for this “is he, or ain’t he crazy” conversation. My so called girl-friend, had her say and tried to bully the doctors into making me stay. I attempted to retort, but was cut off, so I sat back patiently and allowed the doctors to witness the interaction. The doctors asked my homie if I was suicidal, he said he didn’t really think so, but wasn’t sure. And of course everyone knew my position at the table. To make a long story short; since I had no past suicide attempts, or record of being psycho, they had to release me. The only thing was the cops had my gun.
It was the 9th when I got out, and I told myself I wouldn’t drink or smoke—I’d just pack my shit, and bounce outta Omaha. However, there were problems. One, my funds were very limited, two, my car situation (bad tags, no license, old car), and three, the cops had my gun, which I spent $260 on. Now peep this, my so-called girlfriend went through the few Facebook friends I have and told them I went crazy, and to pray for me. She even went so far as to call my ex-girlfriend and homie in Atlanta, where I spent 12 years! That, was….just….hey, it left me speechless. So I had to call people and let them know I was safe and all that stuff. I just hate looking like a fool, because someone thinks that I’m crazy…ok, back to the story.
I tried to get my gun back, and spent a week jumping through hoops and shit, but in the end, it was too much to go through. So I said fuck it. The night before I left I went to the bar across the street from my apartment, because I had had it with Omaha Police, the Sheriff Department, and the Courthouse—no one was going to give me that gun back. And so I was out of money that I needed, or my last option. So I go to the bar, and got drunk as hell. There were some friends there I had met a few weeks back, so we decided to go to my spot after the bar closed. We played some dominoes, had a good time, etc. To make a long story short, I ended up giving my year old futon away, and the next morning I was on I-29 headed to Kansas.
…on 5/18
I don’t remember the name of the town in Kansas I stopped at, but the hotel was cool and cheap. I was pretty clear minded, was doing ok on money, not superb, but gas wasn’t kickin’ my ass. I had made it all the way to Kansas with no police interference, and no car issue, thanks to The Most High. I was scared, nervous, kind of like a new child feeling, but I had gone too far to go back. When I was in the motel in Kansas, for the first time in years I actually got on my knees and prayed. I had begun to feel safe again, watched over. I spoke and prayed to the Most High throughout the trip and currently till this moment—Give Thanks! The Most High keeps me, protects me, and keeps the devil and demons from harming me—this I don’t believe, this I Know.
So I arrive in Denver on May 19th, and try to find a hotel when my car begins to smoke—my radiator was bone dry. But again, the Most High watched over me and blessed me. I was able to get it to a near hotel. The hotel was expensive though—it was like $60 a night. I stayed there for three nights (from the 18th to the 20th) I then found another hotel that I thought was $30 a night, but ended up being $40 a night, and stayed there for five days. I spent about $240—I was busted.
Now during all this, I had contacted a homie I knew in Oklahoma, who put me down with some peeps in Denver who could help me out. Now this Denver contact has been a God-send. Although we have never met in person, to date (5/28/11), I consider her, my God-send, and my sista. She has given me contacts on poetry spots in Denver and hooked me up with a real community of people—I give thanks for this sista, and the brotha king she’s connected me with, who in turn has connected me with this great community of people who stay in the 5 Points area of Denver!
So since then I been livin….I been prayin’, I been givin’ thanks, and been gettin’ many many blessings. I give thanks for the time you’ve spent reading this entry, and give thanks
To kind of give you a time-line of what happened before I ended up in the shelter this is what happened. I stopped in Denver because they have poets, and I thought I could sell some cd's and maybe make it as a working poet/writer. So I checked out the scene, and went to a couple places....
May 20th--Open Mic @Mercury Cafe--Performed, and met Ted V., very good dude. He gave me his card because at that point I was leaning toward sticking and staying. Also the crowd gave me hella luv, and I did get some funds.
May 22nd--Slam @ Mercury Cafe--Performed, but didn't sell any cd's. Mood was real low, because my funds were getting lower--needed money that I did not get.
May 23rd--Went to Bayaud Enterprises--Met a great lady named Mary who helped me get into a shelter. If it was not for Mary and Bayaud Ent. I may not be here right now!
May 26th--1st night in homeless shelter in Denver, CO; 16th and Sherman
May 27th--While searching jobs online at Bayaud Ent., Kelly Services called and offered job for $8/hr--I took it immediately!--***Attended block party at 5 Points--found loving, supportive Afrocentric community--Positive and Powerful energy***
May was a roller-coaster month for me, and by the end of it, I may had been homeless, but I wasn't jobless. The end of May was important because I found a community that I love; the people are fantastic, the energy is overwhelmingly positive, and it was the beginning of great things. The other fantastic fact about this month is that I traveled close to 700 miles without being pulled over--The Most High Blessed me!!!
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