Posted by: peterhact | June 26, 2012

A bit more on Homelessness…

I have been homeless in my life, it was a defining period for me and I came out of it with one determined resolve: Never, ever go back to that stage in my life. Ever.

When I was separated from my Ex-Wife, (as of the 2nd of July, she will be) she suggested I move out of the house we had shared. She had a new partner, I had nothing and no-one. I resisted, in fact, I totally refused. She thought I was being mean, nasty and vindictive. I was not. She thought I was teaching her a lesson. I was not. I was responding to an innate fear that if I left the house, I would end up back in a state of homelessness, only this time, instead of having a network of friends to couch surf from, I had nothing and no-one to rely on.

I had only myself to blame. Not for the separation, nor for the new partner my wife was with, although I was a contributor to that mess she created for herself, but the lack of friends. My original friends had long gone. They had disappeared after I had begged from them, for a drink, for food, for a couch to sleep on. I had alienated every single one, and never bothered to fix my mistakes. I had gone off the rails, and they had distanced themselves in case it was something that could drag them down too.

My newer friends were friends of the Marriage. When we separated, some chose sides, some stopped talking completely, in case this affliction would rub off on their husband or wife, and the sides that were chosen weren’t on my side.

I was alone. I threw myself into my work, I embraced social media and made mistakes there too.

Social Media is a powerful tool. It can gain friends and colleagues, it can create relationships for some people, it can change a life, heal a broken heart or make a life end, make a person feel worthless, make people say things that they really shouldn’t. It is a fine edge of the sword as to how it can go. When I discovered Twitter, I thought that Direct Messages were for sending comments to people that were for them only. I never realised that an anonymous comment sent to someone directly can scare the beejesus out of them, or get a profile of a stalker that needs to be blocked. I blogged about what I did wrong earlier on this blog.

So I retained the house. I paid the bills, I worked hard and I always thought that this was a small blip in my relationship – she was going to miss me and come home. All our friends would talk to me again. I wouldn’t be a loner any more. I was in a rose colored fool’s paradise. She turned up one day to talk to me, to tell me that she was having his baby, that she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. Stupidly, I tried to help her. I realised that I impeded her future happiness by trying to hold on.

About 6 months ago, she came to me and told me that she wanted the house sold. she wanted the profit split, so that she could buy a house with her new partner. As the chill descended about my heart, I realised I had been played. I wanted the settlement to be the settlement of everything. she gave me a number. I countered it. she and I came to an agreement and the money that I had paid to the mortgage evaporated into nothing. She agreed to the asset split and the next thing I knew, I was in a house that was for sale. It was very surreal.

The settlement was set as the house was sold, and the new owner drew out the period for exchange. The settlement date became a matter of a couple of weeks, when they exchanged, and they held me to the original settlement date. Homelessness panic set in. I looked at about 10 houses before deciding that the one I wanted was where I am now. I set up my mortgage – for the first time on my own, and I got an agreement to move in early. I had been in the house for about a month when the divorce papers arrived.

Can I say I was relieved that this was happening? that the money I received was put straight into a new house that she wanted no part of? I am not homeless. I have a house, a mortgage and a car. I act like I am homeless, scared to leave the house, unable to trust anyone that might take my house away from me, and my work suffers. I have found the old me, but I went too far back, now I am the homeless me. I need to find the strong, confident, determined me. I need to do this very quickly and get my life back on track. Homeless, for me, doesn’t mean just being on the street, in a cardboard box, in a stairwell, it means that I have lost my true worth. I have lost my true self and I have to go through the pain of starting again, alone and lonely, weak and afraid.



  1. great post

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