He talked of his recent time spent in prison, where he got clean. But on his release he is handed an order for rehab, but has nothing. Nowhere to stay, no money to attend the rehab which will undoubtably mean back to prison. And the only place to turn is back to the streets. And so the cycle continues. Begging, stealing, drugs and alcohol. A life on the streets, labelled by him as the only life he really knows.
Desperate for a warm and safe environment he dreams of being able to break the cycle. But he doesn’t get the break. And so that circle keeps turning. An ever decreasing circle where as we stand and talk, we are all thinking that there will come a time where the circle becomes so small, it will cease to exist, as too will he.
He told us of his life. It seemed from an early age his life choices could only be described as those that would send any parent to despair. He didn’t hide the fact, his story was an open book. But boy was it a colourful story. He had us laughing more than we had laughed in a long time. The places he had seen, the things he had done, the ‘big’ ideas he had that would change everything for him. But they didn’t. His ever decreasing dreams had gotten so small, the dreams had ceased to exist.
Imagine developing pneumonia due to sleeping under the cold harsh skies, only to be actually thankful that you did because that means 3 weeks in hospital. 3 weeks of guaranteed meals, a bed, faces to talk to, safety. And after those 3 weeks you’re told to find somewhere to stay that night, with the promise that the very next day you’ll be contacted with somewhere to stay. But the contact never comes, and so the circle keeps turning, for now anyway.
And so your thoughts turn to that prison cell. It becomes his closest thing to a safe and warm environment, the closest thing to a home. And so the cycle continues. In, out, round and round, it keeps turning. And every turn it decreases, ever so slightly. Until it becomes so small it ceases to exist, as too will he.