The above picture is my second favorite all time of my mom.
She's 14 enjoying a book. She's beautiful.
I was around six months old then.
This is how I always try to remember her.
I remember her looking like that when we would cuddle together and she'd read to me.
I remember her looking like that and her displaying that smile when I read "The Jungle Book" to her. I was maybe in first grade. It was the first chapter book I could read. It was her childhood copy that had illustrations throughout.
Today she's homeless.
She has been for more than a year, but in recent weeks she has moved into the woods in north Tulsa. Previously she lived with various people all over the state.
It's really fucking embarrassing to admit your mom is homeless. I only recently started talking to people about it, and overall it makes people really uncomfortable. I get it. It makes me super uncomfortable, too.
I've wanted to break things at times. I've cried. I've visited a therapist.
It turns out there are message boards for those like me who have to google "What to do when my parent is homeless and I feel helpless."
It's something nobody wants to talk about. I don't know if I have any friends who have dealt with a family member becoming homeless because it's not something you want to share.
There's only so much one can do.
There have been so many times I've felt like a dick for not "helping." I refused to give her cash. I can't let her stay with me.
I do still try to help.
I took her groceries last week.
She had texted me she hadn't ate in two days and needed money. When I told her I wouldn't give her cash, she later sent me a list of basic food items one could eat while homeless and I fulfilled the order.
Two days later she texted me to tell me her camp site got robbed of everything she had left and she needed $30-40. I didn't take her cash, and I didn't hear from her for a couple of days till she told me she was nearly beat to death.
The domestic violence shelters in Tulsa and the metro area are at capacity. She refused to call 911. He has since been jumped and beat up worse than her and has moved on.
A couple weeks ago I paid to fix her car, so she could continue to drive with a suspended license because she told me she wanted to improve. She totaled her car later that night and texted asking if I could pick her up. I was asleep.
She was recently in jail again in Rogers County. She bailed herself out with her disability money right before Mother's Day. She owes fines there and is facing charges in Nowata County.
Today, I took her to a misdemeanor court hearing in Nowata. It has been continued to August.
Earlier this year I paid her back balance on her storage unit so she could get out the remaining stuff she had. She left it behind soon after.
I won't let her stay with me. She's long-been diagnosed bipolar. She's an alcoholic and drug addict, who spent a decade prescribed every psychological pill you could get. For years there was always someone to take care of her. Once that went away she hasn't been able to function on her own.
There have been multiple times she has called me sobbing, and I spent hours listening to her tell me about all the bad things that happened to her while thinking I had to stay positive to keep her alive.
In recent years there have often been times when I expected to get a call notifying me she's been found dead.
I grew up embarrassed by our closeness in age. Teen pregnancy was something kids joked about from junior high to graduation. It still blows my mind that when she was my age I was 22.
My mom wanted me to be different than the rest of our family, so she encouraged me to learn as much as possible. She would lecture me on everything she read. She subscribed to science magazines, Life, Newsweek and encouraged me to absorb everything I could.
I'll never forget when I got to honors classes in junior high and surpassed her knowledge base. I was on my own. While she was proud of me, she knew I had moved beyond her education level. It was a heavy moment for both of us.
The summer of 2003 was extremely hard on me. I finally transferred to OSU from Rogers State. I left home. I left Claremore. I left my brother. I left my mother because I knew I had to look out for me. I had to chase my dream and do what I could to take care of myself.
Her mental health continually declined after I left. It didn't help that my former stepdad turned to dealing and doing meth. He recently got out of prison.
Christmas 2012 my mom was drunk and went to a QT because she said she feared for her life. She believed her ex was going to kill her. She was arrested and suddenly had a $1 million bond for conspiring to kill him. I thought for sure it would be local news. It made me sick to my stomach and anxious. I still don't know how it never made the press.
While my ex and I planned our wedding in the months leading up to it, I made sure I was home every night at 9 pm, so I could pay to talk on the phone with my mom for 15 minutes and provide her some support. I nearly had a mental breakdown and nearly lost my job. It was a fun time. (My family stresses wore on me and I'm sure contributed to my brief, failed marriage.)
Those charges didn't stick but my mom's daughter notified the police that she found a couple joints in the house. My mom successfully went through the Anna McBride Program and showed promise before relapsing on alcohol.
Since then it's been a roller coaster that derailed and has never got back on the tracks.
It's been extremely hard, and I've kept it as closely guarded as I could.
I've spent my entire life keeping in everything I went through. There are a lot of gaps in the above story, but I could write for years on what I experienced growing up. What I shared are some of the lowlights.
It obviously wasn't easy, and it still isn't.
There's only a handful of people I've shared most of this with until today. You know who you are. I will always be extremely grateful for your love and support. There's one person who has gone above and beyond to help, for that I owe you so much.
I started writing this late last week. I couldn't bring myself to publish it yet.
I felt helpless.
A few months ago, I wrote about the battle to end homelessness in Tulsa. At the time, my mom was not living in the county, so I asked a couple of questions to a few people off the record, but there wasn't much they could do at the time.
Yesterday, I spent the day pleading to my mom that it's time to get help.
She has finally hit rock bottom.
I picked her up this morning from her campsite and drove her nearly an hour north to court. On the way she told me about her experiences being homeless. Whatever you think you know about the homeless is not even close.
It's really fucking sad. I wanted to hug the people I saw at her campsite.
After her court appearance we started the process to get her help.
I took her to the Tulsa Day Center and she became overwhelmed and had a meltdown. I didn't handle the situation the best and became frustrated and became upset. All I want to do is see her get the help she needs and bounce back.
I wanted her to stay at the day center, then migrate over to the night center, but she refused. Her anxiety was in overload and she said she needed to get away from all the people. After a while I was able to share what frustrated me and she opened up about what it's like for mentally and how she can get overwhelmed by the simplest decisions.
I bought her lunch and took her back to where she is staying, which is what she wanted. I've always told her I can't force her to do anything. She has to be willing to get help and accept it.
She has an appointment in the morning. I will pick her up and drive her to it and be there for her along the way.
I'll continue to cross my fingers that this time she'll make it through the recovery process.
I won't give up hope.
I can't.
So why am I sharing this?
Because more people need to talk about this stuff, and I have the opportunity to be one of those voices.
Trust me, I will feel like throwing up as soon as I publish this, but as long as we try to hide these issues behind closed doors, we won't be able to help alleviate the overwhelming number of homeless.
I want those that are going through what I am to know they are not alone. If you're dealing with a family member who is homeless, accept the embarrassment and ask for help from friends and the local agencies. The sooner the better. I'm always willing to share my experiences with anyone who needs to talk about it.
I want to remind you that when you see a homeless person, remember they are suffering. Remember they have a family that carries a heavy heart.
The world can be a scary place.
But there is a light shining from those who are working to help people like my mom.
I can only hope this time she accepts it and works hard to become self-sufficient. She's a great woman, who has been through a lot and made a lot of terrible decisions.
Everybody loves a comeback. I'm just hoping it's finally her turn.