home is where the truck is.

is it strange that i feel more at home in a pickup truck than I ever have in a house? is it so wrong that i'd rather camp out under the stars than be cooped up in an inner city hotel? nah. i don't think so.

that said, i'll be hella stoked once I finally do have a house, i'd rather build one myself though. on a flatbed trailer. i am a transient being after all. i find it hard to sit still. 

another month, and finally some sun. after several weeks of constant rain, feeling the heat is a relief on the bones and mind alike. the temperature will be in the high twenties [celsius] inland this weekend, and I can't wait to soak it up. 

working six days a week certainly contrasts how I spent most of the winter. spring brings life and lots of work to be done. hibernation time is long gone. I'm hoping the next few months will allow me to catch up financially so that next winter can be a restful time with a lot less anxiety. speaking of, I think the medication is working. 

...

it sometimes brings me to tears to remember how i ended up here. it's almost been two years since my mother passed. had she not, i'd still be tethered to the homelands in constant worry for her. i sometimes feel guilty for that sense of relief. i miss her like crazy and it kills me that i can't just pick up the phone and call her when shit gets weird, but i'm thankful that she's no longer suffering. i'm grateful to know she's at peace. i can still feel her with me at times, calling me out on my shit, making sure i'm always doing my best in whatever messed up situation i find myself in, and reminding me to love, unconditional.

...even if that love isn't well received. or understood. or believed. it's there and it's undying, and that's what matters. i have a hard time expressing myself. even when my heart is exploding with all the love in the world for someone, i can't always find the right way to make it known. in friendships, relationships, with family.. having suppressed my feelings for far too many years just to keep myself sane, I have forgotten how to get it out. but I'm trying. 

...

anyhoo.. yeah I forgot to hit publish last week. boy do I ever have a tale to tell. the adventure continues...

out there

as the sun set for the night, I did a walk around the campsite collecting twigs to add to the coals for light. one by one the stars appeared as the sky cleared up between the mountains. stoking the flames I hadn't noticed how dark it was until I walked back to the truck, awestruck by the beautiful night sky. the longer I stood there the more I could see... I swear I could make out the fuzzy shapes far away galaxies.

last night was the coldest, and yet the most enjoyable. I started training for my new job, but it's only a couple days a week for now until I'm in my position. that lends us a night or two a week to camp out a little further away from town. this spot was our favorite so far, just off a dead end road close to a provincial park. no traffic, no light pollution, no sounds but the river and the frogs.

it hasn't been incredibly easy, i'll be honest. though my ptsd is getting easier to deal with, there's still moments of great anxiety. overall, the situation has given my mind something to focus on minute by minute to keep me occupied. my truck mate on the other hand has quite a few challenges of his own. his mental strength helps to keep me together, but his physical pain makes it hard on him to be comfortable most of the time. we do our best for one another to make the most of a seemingly shitty situation. having Stella as our furry companion is a blessing for all. 

after the first week, we're starting to nail down a system. not having a set schedule yet, and all the appointments we have makes each day it's own challenge and adventure. every step of the day from breakfast to rest takes strategic planning, good timing and a little luck to bring it all together. sometimes it's a parking lot, sometimes we can make full camp, collect wood and water and wander around. 

...

I had my first hot shower today for a few, and i'm sitting on a couch as I write. we're borrowing some facilities for the next couple hours until we head out again for the night. I can't even explain in words how amazing that shower felt, or how comforting it was to put on my sweater fresh out of the dryer, or how much of a relief on my hips it is to be sitting on this big comfy chesterfield instead of a lawn chair or the cold steel box of the truck. it doesn't seem like much, but these little breaks are essential for morale. 

this post is scattered as my mind. I don't have much time left here, but I wanted to write down what I could while I have wifi and a minute to charge my phone. I'm hoping the rain will stop during daylight today to give me a chance to further organize and dry out the damp bedding. between condensation and a few minor leaks, staying dry is our biggest challenge. all the things in garbage bags and tarps.

that's about all I can squeeze out for now. and the dryer is cuing me to move along. the adventure continues...

truck life

it ain't all that bad. i bought a truck a few months back fully anticipating having no place to be, and i'm glad. as of today, the place i've been couch surfing is no longer an available option, so we're preparing [Sally] to be lived in. we already kinda do for how much time we spend on the road, it'll be a pretty easy transition. the camping gear is out of storage and tucked away in a tote under the canopy, with the tool box and emergency kit. my truck mate and I took the vacuum to her to get all the cedar needles and dog fur  [which i'm sure will accumulate again in no time] and organized the cab for maximum sleeping space. 

perfect timing too. i start my new garden centre job this week, apparently it's against my karma somehow to have a job and a roof over my head at the same time. i have to laugh.. at least i'll have a locker at work to keep a few things i need. 

finally got the blogger app to work on my phone too. no more excuses not to write i suppose. besides finding free wifi. it's around.

our Sunday drive, or church as i like to call it, turned into a two day boot into the Rockies. the journey served both as a spiritual and therapeutic retreat to prepare for the upcoming challenges of living in a truck, whilst maintaining an active role in society, and my mental health.. i wrote a bit about that in my last post [which i'd link if i could, but mobile app].

i do feel significantly less anxious, and sleeping a little better than before which will surely help me through. for whatever reason i tend to find a sense of comfort having fewer attachments at the moment. i know when the time comes to live in a more standard dwelling, i'll have a greater appreciation for it, as i usually do after spending several months floating around. March will be month five. 

it'll be interesting to see how this week goes. i don't anticipate the temperature dropping to freezing too many more times this season, even so, every last scrap of bedding is currently being laundered to line the nest. that's about all I've got to say for now.. time to hit the road.

disconnected.

 still failing at writing. still essentially 'home[less]', and mostly jobless too. this has been one of the most trying winters of my life. don't get me wrong, i've been far worse off as far as my living situation goes, but what's going on upstairs has been taking it's toll. i'm disconnected.


...

three days later, all i have written is that paragraph. few sentences rather.. it ain't easy putting things into words these days. i struggle on all levels to express myself. it's about fkin time i do something about it. and so here i am, talking about it. calling myself out. acknowledging the fact that this time around, i need a little help.

where do i even start.. at the start i suppose. i've always had a bit of a hard time as a being in this plane of existence, for lack of a better summation. i know i'm not alone on this. some are driven to perpetual states of mental or emotional instability, some choose to exit this plane, some become stronger people for it. i've mostly slotted in to the latter category. there's been some pretty dark days, years even.. but i always managed to bounce back better than before. on my own most times, luckily at some of the worst times supported by a few pretty rad friends.

given all the shit i've been through in my life, both situational and self inflicted, it's a bloody wonder sometimes how i've managed to survive this long with my sanity still mostly intact. i've always had systems in place, rituals, tools.. whatever you want to call them.. methods of dealing with various symptoms of PTSD. i built up said 'toolbox' piece by piece, teaching myself how to deal with bouts of anxiety, guilt, memory issues, nightmares, a bunch of other mental and emotional crap, and all the physical dis-ease that came along with it. somewhere along the line i must have left that toolbox open, tripped over it, and kicked it down the stairs.

it's happened a couple times. this time it's a struggle to find the energy to pick it all up again. i've been disconnected so long it's hard to think back to where this episode began. i have a pretty good idea. i know i've mentioned it before, how i never really gave myself a moment to mourn. it's been almost two years now since my mother followed through on her choice to leave this plane. i guess it never really came up. i buried that shit so deep i never thought it would reach the surface.

i'm pretty sure that's why i chose the path i did from that day on. i always felt responsible for her. i'd run to the ends of the country for a while, but i always returned back home. i left my toolbox in her corner closet for safe keeping. i kept myself alive even on those days i really didn't want to because i had to stay strong for her. my little brother too, but for her i was her rock. for so so long, i was the only one that would brave the wilds of her mindscape, that could bare her presence to give her the unconditional love she needed ever so much. for so long, with [and without] her, i was alone.

her following through on that decision was in part her way of saying 'you're free now'. that was always one of her things. she felt that she was keeping me there against my will. she had guilt. i know the feeling. the days and months following her passing i was numb. there was the initial shock, anger, distress regarding the situation, but i stifled it and locked it all away. which meant locking away all of my feelings, my ability to fully apply myself to friendships, relationships, share any part of my life with what family i do have.. and so here i am. a good few thousand kilometers away from everyone and everything i know. the couple friends i do have here i've managed to distance myself from and i wish i hadn't.time to gather those tools and rebuild.

i've always managed to recover regardless of my situation, one of the biggest recoveries i'd made was while backpacking across the country with no fixed address. things are a little different now, and as i've grown older i have realized that one of the most critical things i need in my corner is a home base. i've been floating for almost four months now in winter no less, and i'm positive this has had the most major impact on my lack of ability to gather myself. i need a place with lock and key, a bed in which to sleep, a kitchen to maintain my physical well-being, and access to running water when i need it, cause you know.. hygiene. it's a thing, especially when making a solid attempt at being a functioning member of society.

i spend a considerable amount of time and mental energy focusing on my next move of the day, and harbouring the will to do so. how am i going to feed myself, where will i sleep, am i doing everything i can to still be supportive to my loved ones, that sort of thing. at the end of the day it leaves me with not a whole hell of a lot of energy to focus on more personal matters, to be creative, to be myself. and if i can't be myself, i'm no good to anyone. i can't expand on my horizons or psych myself up to be open to new things if i don't have that established routine. there's no space for random awesomeness, and no time or mental power to think.

 ...

there was a brief time there back in october where i remembered who i was. i was my-self. dropped all the defences, allowed myself to feel something. i ran into someone who i'd never thought i would find in this crazy world that could see through all the shit there in that moment, and in that moment i had hope. i'm in there somewhere. the me that i like to be, that everyone loves to see.. the passionate, compassionate, outgoing crusader of love. the moment was brief. i miss that me.

this week i made a decision to seek medical help. i've tried for so long on my own to get by and get through each day without being medicated, besides a little help from my favourite plant. even that can't curb the anxiety the way it used to. given the family history and enough mental, emotional and physical trauma to sink a bloody battleship, i'm running short on options and hoping this one can provide me with some level of relief until i can rebuild on my own.

that's about all i have to say right now, and it took me forever to get it out. thank you so much to the ones out there who have been supportive and understanding, it really means the world to me and i probably wouldn't be around if it wasn't for you.. y'all know who you are. just know that i'm not giving up, i don't do that shit. i just need a minute.

home[less]?

november. i'm not entirely sure how i always end up 'homeless' in the winter, but it happens. here i am. the second last night of october, vancouver was hit with the first big rain storm of the season. as per expected, the roof of the slanty shanty finally fell through. it rained for two days into my bedroom. and almost every day since. i had no choice but to leave. i knew it was only a matter of time..

it's a really good thing that i started to talk to strangers. if i hadn't, this whole 'homeless' thing would be a lot more difficult. i've worked full time off and on for most of my adult life, and been homeless for several long stretches spanning all of the seasons [especially winter], but this is my first time having all of the things at once. the environments are reversed, instead of being homeless outside and working inside, i now work outside and have somehow managed to find a few places that i can crash to cover each night of the week. so far.

that said, it's probably more of a challenge than it was working part time and living outdoors. because i pretty well need an indoor space in between my work days, i have to stash all of my belongings divided equally to correspond with where i am each night, where i'm working the next day, and what i'll need to do so. the biggest part of that of course is dealing with my rain gear. by the end of almost every shift, myself and all of my gear is soaked and full of mud so my top priority is getting clean and dry and ready for the next day. not being in the same place every night makes it difficult at times, especially since my two main crash sites are cities apart.

so is all my stuff. i mean, besides just my work gear... all of my belongings are now spread out over five different houses in four different cities in two different provinces, and a pickup truck. oh yeah, i bought a truck. with the sudden failure of my dwelling timing out with the sudden failure of my partner's vehicle, it made most sense to me to just buy a truck right away instead of waiting until spring. the original plan was to wait until the next time i go to ontario, buy a truck there, load it with all of my things and drive it back. i have to get my driver's permit updated before i can do all of that, at least now i have a vehicle to do my road test in when the time comes. that time being my layoff period, which is another factor in the game. soon enough i'll be floating without a source of income for any given amount of time, living on hope and a prayer once again.

and not because i'm 'homeless'... i am home.

now back to the headline. i was sitting on the drive next to my streetkid friend at one of his regular spots, as i have several times before for hours at a time, and for some reason this last time was the first time i noticed this giant sign [that's apparently been there forever] that reads "how do you define 'home'?" i was baffled. had it really been there the whole time? anyways.. home is where i'm at. it's my best friend's kitchen floor, it's under a hat, attached to some backpack straps, a forum on the internet, a particular park bench.

even when i had a place of my own, i've always essentially lived out of my backpack. only difference now, that backpack is a little heavier than when i had my own dwelling. i'm like a turtle, i carry my home around with me. sea turtle. just 'cause. that said, despite shit seeming utterly crazy from the outside, and there's far more insanity to the story than my living situation, i'm actually for the most part quite comfortable with the [potential] arrangement. unfortunately pretty well all of the people closest to me are suffering some sort of unfortunate living situation, tragedy or health malady. me too.. i gotta get myself fixed up soon. i'm no good to anyone else if i'm falling apart myself. all i want to do is help. and i am. me next. i gotta quit smoking, that's for absolute sure. one of my many 'home's is this vessel. i'd like to find a dwelling someday soon, it'd make improving my health a lot easier. in the meantime i have to figure out ways to start the process despite my situation.

anyhoo, the saga continues. december soon come..

chasing rainbows

i've got to start somewhere. some things just need to be written. i have been neglecting the writing for fear of being read. my life story reads out like a synchronicity thriller romantic comedy that will never be seen in full light as it is way too chaotic, kinda silly at times, and makes absolutely no sense. until it does.. then it's also freaky as fuck. i could never even write about some of the best years, that shit could get a lot of good people in a lot of trouble. this chapter in particular tho.. just wow.

where was i going with this..?

what am i here for? i seem to think i know or act like i remember every few months or so and then it fades, it changes.. i'm here for a time, and a time i'm having. quite possibly the most interesting, ass-busting, heart-breaking, epic time of my life. i've been here thirteen months and thirteen days. 13, 13. it's kinda like that double rainbow... what does it mean? and everything happens in trees. threes.

i don't fucking care if i sound mental writing this. i am mental most of the time, i just do a really good job at hiding it. i'll probably lose a few more bits of my mind before i feel any better. in fact, that's probably essential. i'm not complaining. truly i'm not. shit might get weird at times and it's not all rainbows and glitter but i certainly would never take any of it back.

talk to strangers.

i can be a pretty outgoing person at times, i'm known to be kind and friendly, but that hardly changes the fact that for the most part i'm an introverted sociophobe. i've forced myself into situations several times in the past where i'm immersed in a crowd or in places i've never been before full of people i've never met. which is actually kind of easier than moving to a new place and trying to settle and make new friends. talking to strangers is definitely more comfortable when travelling, you pretty much have to to figure your way around and learn about the place you're in. but it's been a challenge for me here, it's been a year and i'm just finally becoming comfortable enough to do so.

earlier this summer a friend from back home sent me a 'challenge' to help get over the funk i've been stuck in, and i think my favourite card out of the whole pile is the one that challenges me to talk to strangers. according to said challenge i only had to talk to three people i didn't know in the same day, but i've taken it to the next level by adopting this challenge as a part of my modus operandi.

i've managed to make half a dozen friends in the past month by simply not being strapped into my ipod everywhere i go. kind of old fashioned like, imagine that.. talking to people in the lunch line, at the grocery store, on the city bus, outside the train station after work.. a lot of people in this city are sort of closed off to that sort of thing, walking around with their faces in their cell phones and giving zero shits about the world around them. but every once in a while there's a friendly face, someone itching to strike up a conversation. i'm doing my best to embrace those situations.

one of my favourite random encounters thus far was on the city bus about a month ago. the bus was stopped at a station and the driver wasn't on board to collect tickets as people were boarding. i walked on, and immediately locked eyes with a fellow sitting in the back corner. i sat in the empty seat by the back door. a moment later another guy boarded, stuck his ticket in the fare box, and because the driver wasn't there to push the button his ticket didn't return. he looked around frustrated and then sat down next to me. when the driver boarded, he reset the fare box and out came the ticket. i noticed, so i walked up and grabbed it, and gave it to the man who'd lost it. the fellow in the corner smiled at me. i couldn't look away, he had such a friendly, familiar face..

as we were approaching his stop he got up a minute early to stand at the back door. he looked me right in the eyes and asked, 'what is your name?' as if he'd felt he had met me before as well. we introduced ourselves, shook hands, and then he asked me where i was off to. i said 'oh, nowhere in particular.. you?' he pointed to an all day breakfast place at the corner and said 'breakfast for dinner' and smiled. i thought that was an amazing idea, as i was starving and asked if he cared if i joined. i can only imagine what was going through the heads of some of the other passengers that witnessed us two perfect strangers introduce at the door, and go to dinner. i caught a glimpse of a tilted head or two.

 for whatever reason neither of us could figure out, we had felt like we'd known each other from long ago. with twelve years difference and a few thousand kilometers between us most of our lives, chances aren't likely. we had a deep, engaging conversation about where we're at in our lives right now and where we've been. we shared similar pasts, being street kids and travellers, having some of the problems that follow those kinds of lifestyles, and the things we've done to overcome them.

we walked and smoked and talked some more on our way to the station. his story was one of the most beautiful and inspiring stories of being reborn in a sense, that i'd ever heard. he was happy to have someone to tell it to. we arrived at the station and before parting ways we looked at each other thinking, should we hug?! haha and we did. it was one of the most genuine things i had felt in a while. i hope to run into him again.

even the internet, as strange as it is to me, has become a resource for meeting people i never would have otherwise. a few of the best friends i've made here i met sort of at random online, and i've been 'one of the boys' ever since. i couldn't imagine my life here without them. i've only just known them barely a year and they're like long lost family. we get together for golf, holiday meals, and epic card games and drinks. it feels like we've known each other forever, which is nice.

all that said, it's taken a while, but i feel far less lonely here than i did. i still have my moments where i wish more than anything i could hug my many loves back home, hop in my bro's car for a road trip out to dad's house, or bum around my hometown crashing couches and visiting my collection of adopted mothers.. but it's getting easier each day. what can i say.. talk to strangers.