Dear Friends,
I keep having flashbacks to the day my life changed forever.
That was the day my ‘friend’ decided I could no longer live in his basement. But more than that, he was so angry with me and so tired of me that he snapped – and decided that the only way to get rid of me was to assault me.
He pushed me down the stairs and jumped on top of me. He started choking me, and I blacked out for a while. When I came to, he was trying to break my arm.
It was so shocking that I didn’t know what to do, other than beg him to stop hurting me. He told me to get out and “get to the curb,” like I was a bag of human garbage.
By the time he was done attacking me, police had been called, and I was taken to the hospital. I had a broken collarbone, a torn lip, and bruises all over my body. I also had internal bleeding.
I was lucky to be alive. But when I was discharged from the hospital only 15 hours later, I had no home to go back to. I also didn’t have any belongings other than my clothes. I had no money and no bank card.
After calling the Region’s shelter number, I found out there was a bed available at House of Friendship. I walked to the ShelterCare program that afternoon. It took me four hours. I had never been so relieved to have somewhere to go, but at the same time, I was frightened.
My name is Doug*. This April, I became homeless for the first time in my life. And without House of Friendship’s ShelterCare program, I’d probably be dead right now.
I felt like I was invisible, that I didn’t matter to anyone.
I think that’s why I started doing everything I could to fit in, to belong. And that made it very easy for people to take advantage of me.
In high school, I started smoking marijuana and joined in with friends who were drinking. And at first, I didn’t drink all that much.
But as my pain grew from being used by others, I would turn to alcohol more and more often to numb my pain.
As an adult, I struggled to find a loving relationship. The women I dated all seemed great at first, but it would always end in disaster. I couldn’t read people, and I couldn’t understand them. My autism meant that I took everything at face value. I would trust that what someone said to me was true, that when they said they loved me, they meant it.
And I wanted to be loved so badly. I would end up with women who only wanted to take advantage of me. I would always be hurt when the relationship ended – and I would usually have no clue why things had changed.
Men, you know, are taught to “suck it up.” To be strong. We aren’t allowed to cry.
But I know that every single one of us cries behind closed doors – and we don’t always know what to do when we’re hurting.
But here at ShelterCare, everything is different. Once I got here, my life started to get better.
The staff are so caring – they have taken the time to know me and my story, and I get the help I need.
I regularly meet with my counsellor, and I visit the addiction clinic. I have access to the on-site nurse whenever I need some health advice, and even the ID clinic has been incredibly helpful, since I was kicked out of my friend’s house without my wallet.
Having my own room that I can go to in the middle of the day, when I need to sleep, is a lifesaver. I still have flashbacks that make it hard to sleep all night through – and I know in other shelters, I would need to be outside during the day, instead of having my own room to rest in. I don’t think I could handle that right now.
But what is making me truly happy is that I’m beginning to figure out things about myself I never knew, and I’m starting to heal, both inside and out.
Some days are good, and some days are bad. But the nice thing is I’m always able to talk to someone. And I’m learning to ask for help – something I’ve never done before.
For me, love always came with a cost. If I asked for help, I would owe someone something. But here, when I ask for help, I get it – no strings attached.
I’m staying sober, and I’m more determined than I’ve ever been.
I’m inspired by some of the staff I’ve met here. I think I could use my life experience, all the truly terrible things that have happened to me, and use them for good.
I want to become a peer support worker like the one I meet with at ShelterCare’s addiction clinic, and advocate for people like me. I think my real-world experience can make a difference.
And when I think about how many people like me end up homeless, I’m thankful for caring, compassionate folk like you who understand that there’s more to the story.
I know people like you in our community believe that everyone deserves dignity and safety, regardless of their past. You understand that homelessness isn’t simply a choice but often the result of trauma and circumstances beyond someone’s control. You’re the kind of person who sees beyond stereotypes and recognizes that with the right support, transformation is possible for everyone.
I know you believe that places like House of Friendship’s ShelterCare program need to exist because the problem of homelessness doesn’t seem to be getting any better. People are turning to drugs to cope with their pain – both physical and emotional – and these drugs are dangerous. It is so easy to overdose.
People are dying without help. I know I would have.
I still think back to April, when I was discharged from the hospital, in pain, wearing only a hoodie. It was still pretty cold this spring, and if I hadn’t been sent to ShelterCare, I don’t know what I would have done. I probably would have tried fentanyl or some other street drug, just to cope.
Going to ShelterCare saved me – I was out of the cold, and I had help. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. That means so much more than you’ll ever know.
Not everyone is as lucky as I am – not everyone gets another chance.
f I could tell people one thing about homelessness, it’s this: just because someone is homeless doesn’t mean that they are unworthy. And just because someone is addicted to drugs or alcohol, it doesn’t make them a bad person.
Sometimes, it’s just a reality of how hard life is – and how these hard things can change a life forever. Just like it changed mine.
I know that if it wasn’t for this place, I wouldn’t have had a chance.
Today, if you are able, please consider a gift to help get another guy out of the cold – and to extend the help he needs to begin again.
When you support House of Friendship, you’re standing up for the belief that everyone in Waterloo Region deserves a chance to heal and rebuild their life. Thank you for believing in fresh starts for people like me – thank you for caring, and for taking the time to read my story.
With sincere gratitude,
