My left leg now equipped with a metal rod, metal plate, and several sets of metal pins, sure to entertain metal detectors
I’m freaking tired of your hateful attitude and how you talk to me. Acting like everything is all my fault. And when I try to help you, I get nothing but disrespectful bullshit. So when I get my accident settlement, I will do what you suggested and shove it up my ass and leave.
On March 15, 2017, I woke up just like any other day. I ate, applied for a few jobs online, then after noticing that I was nearly out of food and other necessities, I went to the median near my place to fly a sign. I got there, put my bag down, and held up the sign. That’s all I remember before waking up in the middle of the road, screaming to anyone who might hear to please help me. A lady came to me and I told her to please not let me die. This woman said she would stay until the ambulance arrived, stroking my hair and praying for me. Then for the first time ever, it happened. I felt no pain and I heard a soft voice telling me that he was with me and I was surrounded in his love. I knew that God had my back. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world. I spent three weeks in the hospital and I have a surgeon appointment for Monday April 24, where I will find out when I can start learning to walk again. I’m so fortunate to be here writing this. God Bless you all!
Since I lost my job on Christmas Eve, lost to a person who pretended to be a friend, I have to go out and fly a cardboard sign. I don’t know what to do other than that until maybe I should get lucky again someday and get another job. Anyway, flying consists of holding a small cardboard sign, with words such as “Anything helps, Bless you” or “Job Needed, Please pray 4 me”. And I stand in a median for sometimes hours, hoping and praying that someone will be kind enough to give me some change. I have lost a lot of my own self respect, often crying and stressing about how I will survive seeing as some days I get $30-$50+ and some I only get a buck or two. I get called names by people who are passing by in cars, told to “Get a job!”, as though I really want to be standing out in front of strangers looking dumb for hours at hardly any compensation. So I beg of those assholes, please let me be. I want to work, trust me, but I also need to get by sometimes and I don’t steal or prostitute myself, so it’s the only way I have at this time. Prayers please, not hatred….
Tonight as I watch the circus of a motel I live at explode in a drunken stupor, the shuddering from within me is actually a relief signal. I WAS one of those raging psycho drunks hiding behind a tipsy giggle and seeing how Freakin stupid it looks from the now alcohol free version of myself really trips me out. I am so glad that those days are over for me but I feel a slight pity for those who will never escape the wrath of the inebriated beast we all have living secretly inside our souls…it’s a drug, legal or not and I am not too sure that the prohibition era crusaders were really so wrong. Oh well, it’s just my opinion so take it or leave it!
Debbie is a good friend of mine, wife to the late Earnie , and has been on the streets since she was a teenager. Growing up in the custody of the state, just like I did. I sat beside her as she flew her sign and we shared good memories of Earnie together. “Carrie, he was my best friend in the world,” she said, words stammering from her tear streamed face. We talked for hours, only interrupted by a nice Christian lady who brought each of us a sandwich and promised Debbie a ride to church the next day. When the time came for me to go, Debbie smiled up at me and said,”Thanks for being here with me today, it was great just be able to vent.” I smiled and left, knowing that it didn’t just help her, but was very beneficial to me as well.