a wrenching display of grief in downtown Denver

{sloppy unedited writing from my pages}

I cannot write.

My heart is broken into a thousand smithereens.

I am in a cafe, rather than home because my naked emotional rawness does not allow me to be in the presence of the rampaging hurtful roommate, where the kind man gave me a coffee because I am a wreck. A complete wreck.

Today Denver’s traffic division gladly accepted my $25, an enormous sum for a parking error made in innocence. On my way out of the government building, I paused at the Business office to ask about a matter.

It was when I asked, unrelated to office functions, where to get a job in Denver that I crumpled. Utterly and completely broke down into uncontrollable sobbing, wrenching and gasping sobbing that could not be arrested.

For half an hour the tears poured like torrential rivers down my face, bloated and ugly and contorted by grief and terror, that I buried in my lap, my bag.

Dear readers:

I have written so and too often of my unemployment, now at 38 months, my hardship and excruitiating frustration at the silence that meets my countless resumes, cover letters and applications, crossing the gamut from menial warehouse work at minimum wage to professional openings.

I have begged for jobs, for naught.

Housing has been to date a fairly spectacular failure as well. My brief (to date, two weeks) tenancy is to end at month’s close.

Without employment and income, I have no means to pay rent at her place or anywhere.

The housekeeping job, just begun recently, has amounted to a peanut in a mountain of nuts. I’ve worked about four hours total in a week.

I cried my guts out in downtown Denver’s Business office. I sobbed for the years of accumulated best efforts and disappointments and hopes raised then ruined. I sobbed for the job yesterday that I did not get that would’ve changed my life so for the better.

I sobbed for a seemingly thousand years of losses and poverty and hardship and struggle and reminders of who I was to be and who I have become. Tears shed rampant for despair and desperation and undoings that are my life. These are not words made up. They are real. They are life.

Today I left that office a blithering broken and swollen-faced broken-down individual, rendered worthless by unemployment, a soul lost not of herself but rather closed doors.

I left with a stack of papers in my hand, resources for the homeless and the indigent in Denver. Shelters and where to get motel vouchers and food.

This is what life, once so rich with abundant promise and opportunity, scholastic achievements, travels and a career in editing and writing, has come to, what joblessness has wrought.

If a job does not come through in the next days, if a source of income is not secured, I will not be looking for a new room share but a shelter.

I wanted readers who have followed my exploits and struggles to know. You will not understand and these experiences of which I share may be foreign to your own, but I am in deep deep trouble. I know not what the next day or week or future, so soon to arrive holds; but homelessness, my second-greatest fear, is very very near. Upon this drastic turn I know not what will come of me or my life, such as it is not. I wanted you to know. Thank you for reading.


7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. lexiemom
    Oct 25, 2011 @ 18:17:04

    I’m so sorry. How can I help?


    • allycatadventures
      Oct 26, 2011 @ 17:41:31

      @lexiemom – You can help by offering me a job; short of that, a friend or relative in Colorado or nearby Midwest states who would voluntarily shelter a troubled and soon-to-be-homeless vagabond who has hit very hard times. Otherwise, prayers for safety and security are the best anyone can extend.


  2. trayflow
    Oct 25, 2011 @ 19:00:40

    I am so very sad for you, really. Tears are welling up in my eyes thinking of you. I wish I could offer you a job, a steady stream of income, a place to live, a shoulder to cry on… Is there anything I can do to help you? I would be more than happy to help you if you would accept. It won’t fix anything, I know, but… I sincerely hope things start happening for you, and soon!


  3. fotografzahl
    Oct 26, 2011 @ 03:27:15

    To be honest I don’t know what to say really. šŸ˜¦
    It is very, very sad to read this, but telling you this doesn’t improve your situation, I’m afraid…
    I live thousands of miles away from your place, all I can offer is words.

    Is there a possibility for you to make acquaintances/friends in Denver?
    Making new contacts might help you in various ways: find work (“My brother’s friend has a friend who knows someone who is looking for a reliable xy in their company”), getting comfort, getting advice.
    Of course, I know this is not a simple task either and it cannot be forced…
    It’s just what came into my mind.


    • allycatadventures
      Oct 26, 2011 @ 18:18:02

      @fotografzahl – Friendships take time to build; the need for survival housing and, above all, employment is immediate. It’s not unusual for me to ask people I meet — be they strangers at gatherings or behind a cafe counter — whether they know of anyone who’s hiring. I’m not shy that way at all. However, I’m still unemployed and that is what matters most. Thanks for stopping by to read and comment; always appreciated.


  4. trayflow
    Oct 26, 2011 @ 21:10:38

    I emailed an acquaintance in Denver asking if they know of anything available for housing and forwarded your blog posting. It probably won’t come to anything but I asked them just in case.


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