Comments? Challenges? Quips?
I am TOTALLY there with you. I get completely spooked by stuff like that too. The other night I was home alone and I walked out into the living room to talk to the rats when I heard this knocking out on the front porch. Since we share the poch witho ur 3 other neighbors, I thought it might be someone for them, cause I wasn't expecting anyone.
But the knocking kept going and I started to freak out. I was home alone. I krept toward the door quitely, trying not to let them know I was there. Once I got closer, I could hear that it was MY DOOR they were knocking on, and now it was more of a BANGING and I was FREAKED and really to grab a knife and hide in the closet. So I gathered ALL my courage and flipped ont he pourch light and opened the curtain.
Joey was stranding there, with his hands full so he couldn't open the door.
I was freaked out still for the rest of the night.
Amelie, I'm going to take it on merit that you work with the homeless (in which case, don't look at my blog entry today!) Doesn't this sort of thing kinda go with the territory? Aren't a good percentage of your clients usually casualties of the Reagan era purge of government run institutions? Not being facetious, really interested since I bag on SF's homeless problem and want to make sure I'm not talking out of my ass more than usual.
Homeless people at the office are one thing. There, you have resources and phone numbers to give them and they treat you like someone who can really help them. They don't look at you like you're the next play.
Homeless people who go into your yard looking for things to take or places to sleep or windows to crawl through are NOT okay. And the ones who are still able to function would agree with me. And the ones who wouldn't are living with problems that are probably the result of mental illnesses gone awry, untreated, and self medicated. And they are NOT the kind of problems I want to have going on at my house.
My work is a totally different story.
I feel no weirdness in saying that I will work with someone to the end of the day (paid through my grant), share a meal with them (on my expense accound) and drive them around in my car (under my mileage account). But I cannot handle my personal homelife, after work and unpaid, invaded by people who are NOT my clients, but who could be (if all grant requirements are met, that is). I do not want people coming into my yard, asking me for money, and watching my house to see if anyone is home all day.
My work is like your work. When you go home, hopefully you are not still working.
The territory is separate. I have good boundaries. I don't take clients home to sleep on my couch, preferring to make the agencies responsible for their care accountable to their clients, and make them pay for their lodging. I don't feed clients unless it's a reward for something else (like a coffee and a donut for showing up to a group meeting).
also, I plain don't like to be spooked. My dog's too nice, my windows are open to let in the fresh air.
I hate the idea that I will have to lock everything up in such a nice neighborhood when this crap never happened in my old, scrappy one.
I don't think it's the neighborhood. I think it's one bad apple.
I'm going to further ammend that statement to include "NO body. Homeless or otherwise" is welcome to come through my window, sleep uninvited in my yard, steal from me, or ask me for a handout while I'm getting into my car or in an otherwise vulnerable position.
Moe, did I ever tell you the story about my opening the door to my parent's house when they were gone? A long hallway. I could see a man's arm close the door to the hallway bathroom. No one was supposed to be home. I went into a rage, grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and ran down the hallways screaming "GETTHEFUCKOUTMUTHAFUCKA!" in my meanest GRRL voice. I body slammed the bathroom door and kicked it hard, screaming "BASTARD! I am going to KILL YOU!"
My little (22 at the time) brother had come home from work early, walked around in his birthday suit, and was getting ready for a shit, a shave and a shower when I walked in. He daintily and gingerly had shut the door to the bathroom behind him, not wanting to offend me. He knew no one was supposed to be home, so he had taken that opportunity to walk around the house nudies, boldened by the absence of family.
Little did he know I would have killed him if he hadn't shouted "Hey Hey, it's me! I ain't no bastard! Quit it, I just want to use the toilet, dumbass!"
I think it took a week for my adrenaline to go back to normal.
Still, that was in the daytime. At night, in a new house, I was completely freaked by the GATE being opened. I still found a knife, though.
Well put Amelie... I guess the "boundaries" get clouded for some hence the reason for me asking about it. I have a friend who works for the San Diego Mental Health Offices and her job includes outreach to homeless all over San Diego County. She's a sucker for a story and every time I've visited her, has some hardluck case sleeping on her couch... I think she does more harm than good bringing these people home with her because eventually she has to turn them out (only to make room for the next homeless guy or girl).
And... unfortunately, I don't leave my job at home but the difference between you and I is that bringing my job home isn't dangerous... good for you girl!
BWA HA HA HA! I'm DYING at the image of you going at a naked Henry with a knife!!!
I feel for you though. I cam ehom and found my front door unlocked the other day. I was FLIPPED OUT.
Yeah, it's funny now.
you shoulda seen his face.
it's his bday today.
Call him and say
"Henry, your sister told us a funny story...no, not that one. What do you mean, she made you eat poo? anyway, no....
it's about the one time when she nearly killed you with a knife. Huh?
....
How many times did she try to kill you while you were growing up, anyway?"
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