The baglady
So psychology teaches you quite a bit and the rest you learn from watching and your interactions with other people. I, unfortunately, do not realize a lot of times the effect that I have on others and therefor learn maybea little slower than others. I also have my own issues as everyone does but mine are taking too much upon myself and not knowing when to just fold my cards for good.
Tonight an old friend of my mothers stopped by, a family friend. I exited the living room and saw someone in the dining room with the hair of a homeless person. Last Xmas the parents were driving back.... I believe from the post office... and found a man who was lost. He had no ID, and was very confused on how to get home. We brought him home, fed him and then went back out to find where he may have come from so he would find a place familiar close to where we had picked him up. Turns out we found a place where he remembered where he was. The gentlemen was suffering from memory loss due to.... well theres several illnesses including just old age.
Tonight was different.
I saw Dad and pulled caught him in the other room. I asked him who that person was, not recognizing anything about them, including the very strong odor of cigarettes and goodness knows what else. He said it was "Wendy". Immediately my mind raced through several different memories where we had gone to the sawdust festival, her son Dylan, and pictures that were taken. Very little came in clear, most of my memories are all vague. The last thing I had heard was over a decade ago and Dylan had tried to break into his moms house. She had to have her locks changed. ALl of this runs through my mind collecting every piece of data I can on the girl when the boom lowers and I hear Dads second sentance.
"She's a bag lady now".
It takes a moment while I'm searching for information on her and then pasting the two sentances together.... bag lady.... like the coffee lady.... homeless.... documentaries I've watched and I start pulling all the information I know on that.
I had barely settled my mind before I walked in there and started in. I watched. I found out several things that were true and what were lies. I also looked for signs of different drugs. I do still see alcoholism. I believe that. She also mentioned trying ot kill herself through cutting yet she had no marks on her left wrist. i dont' believe I got a good view of her right one but what I could catch there were no scars, also none on her chest. I watched her slur her words and how she got fake confidence. She then stood up and took off her coat. I then saw a whole other side. She was thin as a rail. She said she was almost up to 120lbs but I'm 123 and have a lot more on me. She was in the 90's - 80's. I also watched her movements. She didn't have shakes but mentioned how she's been throwing up a lot. I believe it to be coke.The bridge of her nose was sunken in more than on most people, she didn' thave burn marks on her lips, she was afraid of me seeing her hands but I asked and looked. I didn' tsee anything suspicious but she was trying ot hide something.
Mainly I made sure not to contradict her on anything. It would have done no good. I saw a woman... just gone. She was lost. She was putting on a facade for several reasons, all of which were going on at the same time, and she was a story teller. Instead I sat and listened. I even tried to get more out of her on where she's been and what she's done. There is nothing to tell with those people. They know their stories and the last thing they will tell their drug dealer is the truth. The truth is all lost in a drug haze that is no where close to being finished with.
I believe Lionel Richie spoke well when he said you just have to let them fall. Theres nothing you can do if they are on their way down or close to the bottom. You just have to wait till they fall.
I made sure to keep her within eye sight... most of hte time. Once I turned my back but watched her through reflections off the silver platter. Other than that I just sat and listened. I didn't want to tell her about me at all in the fear one day she may visit or it would insight bad feelings. This time I was just there to listen.
The few times I spoke I watched her reactions and she was in tears. For a few moments, glimpses at best, I could see her. I could see through the drugs, the hard life, the days of dirt, sweat, and goodness knows what else and how long it had been since she had a shower. I saw through her addictions to the kind, gorgeous woman i once knew. She, at one point could have been a model. I hit sensitive points and saw tears in her eyes. I saw pain come through, a pain that she only knows how to fix by more drugs and falling back into the mist again. .....
I have a lot to chew on about this encounter...
I'll write more tomorrow...
A lot of mixed feelings on this... sorrow, remorse, hurt, fear, anger and as much as I hate to say it pity is in there as well. I feel for her and want to help but theres nothing to do but throw her out to help her. The beautiful woman i once knew I believe I'll see again... just time.
Tonight an old friend of my mothers stopped by, a family friend. I exited the living room and saw someone in the dining room with the hair of a homeless person. Last Xmas the parents were driving back.... I believe from the post office... and found a man who was lost. He had no ID, and was very confused on how to get home. We brought him home, fed him and then went back out to find where he may have come from so he would find a place familiar close to where we had picked him up. Turns out we found a place where he remembered where he was. The gentlemen was suffering from memory loss due to.... well theres several illnesses including just old age.
Tonight was different.
I saw Dad and pulled caught him in the other room. I asked him who that person was, not recognizing anything about them, including the very strong odor of cigarettes and goodness knows what else. He said it was "Wendy". Immediately my mind raced through several different memories where we had gone to the sawdust festival, her son Dylan, and pictures that were taken. Very little came in clear, most of my memories are all vague. The last thing I had heard was over a decade ago and Dylan had tried to break into his moms house. She had to have her locks changed. ALl of this runs through my mind collecting every piece of data I can on the girl when the boom lowers and I hear Dads second sentance.
"She's a bag lady now".
It takes a moment while I'm searching for information on her and then pasting the two sentances together.... bag lady.... like the coffee lady.... homeless.... documentaries I've watched and I start pulling all the information I know on that.
I had barely settled my mind before I walked in there and started in. I watched. I found out several things that were true and what were lies. I also looked for signs of different drugs. I do still see alcoholism. I believe that. She also mentioned trying ot kill herself through cutting yet she had no marks on her left wrist. i dont' believe I got a good view of her right one but what I could catch there were no scars, also none on her chest. I watched her slur her words and how she got fake confidence. She then stood up and took off her coat. I then saw a whole other side. She was thin as a rail. She said she was almost up to 120lbs but I'm 123 and have a lot more on me. She was in the 90's - 80's. I also watched her movements. She didn't have shakes but mentioned how she's been throwing up a lot. I believe it to be coke.The bridge of her nose was sunken in more than on most people, she didn' thave burn marks on her lips, she was afraid of me seeing her hands but I asked and looked. I didn' tsee anything suspicious but she was trying ot hide something.
Mainly I made sure not to contradict her on anything. It would have done no good. I saw a woman... just gone. She was lost. She was putting on a facade for several reasons, all of which were going on at the same time, and she was a story teller. Instead I sat and listened. I even tried to get more out of her on where she's been and what she's done. There is nothing to tell with those people. They know their stories and the last thing they will tell their drug dealer is the truth. The truth is all lost in a drug haze that is no where close to being finished with.
I believe Lionel Richie spoke well when he said you just have to let them fall. Theres nothing you can do if they are on their way down or close to the bottom. You just have to wait till they fall.
I made sure to keep her within eye sight... most of hte time. Once I turned my back but watched her through reflections off the silver platter. Other than that I just sat and listened. I didn't want to tell her about me at all in the fear one day she may visit or it would insight bad feelings. This time I was just there to listen.
The few times I spoke I watched her reactions and she was in tears. For a few moments, glimpses at best, I could see her. I could see through the drugs, the hard life, the days of dirt, sweat, and goodness knows what else and how long it had been since she had a shower. I saw through her addictions to the kind, gorgeous woman i once knew. She, at one point could have been a model. I hit sensitive points and saw tears in her eyes. I saw pain come through, a pain that she only knows how to fix by more drugs and falling back into the mist again. .....
I have a lot to chew on about this encounter...
I'll write more tomorrow...
A lot of mixed feelings on this... sorrow, remorse, hurt, fear, anger and as much as I hate to say it pity is in there as well. I feel for her and want to help but theres nothing to do but throw her out to help her. The beautiful woman i once knew I believe I'll see again... just time.