Random Thoughts, musings, and interests of independent journalist Peter C. Frank: Perpetually single, activist and advocate, gay, disabled, brainiac, tech geek, social media influencer, conversationalist, influencer, shopaholic, gadget freak, progressive Republican, politically aware, woke, technologist, futurist, positivity, life, mindfulness, coach, intellectual, human being. #TeamNightOwl #TeamGeek #TeamGay #TeamHuman #TeamBernie #FeelTheBern
Today marks the completion of the 48th revolution of my corporeal existence on this ball of rock flooded with a substance we call water (chemical composition H2O) around a gaseous body whose core is a continuous fusion reaction primarily fueled by hydrogen and helium (i.e., our "sun," which we classify as a yellow star). In other words, it's my 48th birthday today.
And. I'm. Terrified. . . No. Make that petrified, immobilized by a foreboding sense of impending...change?
It's not that I haven't faced change before--I have, on numerous occasions and yet, I'm still here (despite more than a few attempts to the contrary but, I digress). NOTE: If you are having thoughts of not wanting to be here any longer, please--PLEASE--call someone and ask for help. Call your local mobile crisis hotline number, call 911, call your local Suicide Prevention Hotline.
Yet this time, something is different. I don't know if it's the times we're living in or the fact that I've completed four major zodiac laps around the sun. That is four groups of one full zodiac (take your pick, western or eastern zodiac, it's still four sets of 12).
I sense a great shift in the universe. And perhaps it's not so much that there's a change coming but rather that it's what's coming is going to be big. I mean really, really big. Ginorrrrrmous, even.
Either that or I'm beginning to have one of those stereotypically male mid-life crises. Except, I don't have the means to change jobs and buy a fancy, new sports car or do any of the stereotypical things that go along with the stereotypically male mid-life crisis. I'm barely surviving here, y'know?
This brings me back to the deep, dark, foreboding, petrifying fear that something big is coming down the pipeline, and it scares the bejeezus out of me.
The past decade certainly hasn't been very kind to me. I've experienced traumatic losses. At the drop of a hat, I packed up and left everything behind in New York and moved to Connecticut. My mother's cancer returned for the fourth time so I moved in with her to take better care of her. A few years later that dastardly beast took her from me and I haven't even begun to process her loss a little over two years ago.
Since then, I've been homeless. And the homeless system is designed to keep people out of shelters and prevent individuals from utilizing what few resources there are. It's all designed to make it look like there isn't really a homelessness problem. Looks good on paper? Great! No problem here. Next! But I digress.
Perhaps it's not a mid-life crisis but rather the culmination of one? But that can't be, can it? Men well into their 50s have mid-life crises. So it must be something else.
Of course, men aren't the only ones who have mid-life crises. But I know very little of the mid-life crises that women have, other than "the change of life." And of course that it can, at times and in some instances, drive them completely doolally.
It could just be my anxiety rearing its ugly head, the "not knowing what's coming down the road" bit. But I've been dealing with anxiety for nearly 30 years and I've done the breathing exercises. They're. Not. Working. In fact, if anything, they're making it worse.
I feel this shift in the Universe even stronger because I'm more in touch with the energies floating all around me. Oh sure, let's become mindful so we can get more in touch with how I"m connected to the Universe and the Big. Impending. Huge. Dramatic. Change. Like that's not dodgy at all! I'd best have Agathe Christie take a gander at it than try being any more mindful of meself. But once again, I digress.
It could be that since I've struggled so much with the past zodiac cycle, this next one is going to be glorious. But with my luck, I can't count on that. In fact, I've learned not to. But maybe that's the huge change that's coming, learning to think more positively? It couldn't be that simple though, could it? Expecting not to be disappointed? Not preparing for failure?
That would be an extremely frightening new frontier. One I've yet to venture through. I'd have to learn how to navigate such waters from scratch. And charting the unknown can be truly treacherous times, indeed. No wonder the hairs on the back of my neck have been standing at attention.
I don't know if others who aren't in my age group are feeling this Universal shift. I haven't asked them--dare not lest they think I'm totally bonkers. And those who are in my age group? Well, I just assume, don't I? It comes with the territory, part of the aging process.
Speaking of aging, I need to speak with the person who sold me my aging kit. Mine's defective. I need a refund. Oh, the problems I've been having with mine lately, I could go on! I have more medical professionals in my life than friends these days!
So what's a poor gay boy to do (pa rum pa pum pum pum)? The only real choice I have is to wait, scared witless, for this Universal shift to take hold. Until then, I will continue to work on getting into my new home before the ticking clock runs out. And with your support, I just may make it in time.
(Please visit the GoFundMe Fundraiser I set upif you can help me get into my new home for the holidays. I need help coming up with the security deposit and the first month's rent. After that, the Section 8 housing choice voucher I received will help me pay the rent. Thanks so much!)
Wow, so it's been a while since I've posted a personal update. Let me fill you in.
First of all, to all of you who have given to me in the past, a huge thank you and much gratitude for your generosity and assistance. I could not have gotten through these past few months without your support and kindness.
I know that I've asked for assistance in the past. My GoFundMe page states I've raised some money but the vast majority of that money was from last year. As explained below, the shelter either "lost" or threw out my summer clothes (and denies all responsibility). As such, I have very little to wear for the coming months. Additionally, I have other needs as I lay out below.
Since the last time I've posted an update, I wound up back on the funny farm. That is, my depression sunk to a level that led me to "bad thoughts," i.e., I became despondent and suicidal.
Essentially, I went to City Hall in Hartford, CT seeking help with my housing situation (or lack thereof, as I've been homeless since my mother lost her fourth battle against breast cancer in September 2019). I also was feeling down due to having had my phone service suspended as I didn't have the money to keep paying the bill as I'd been thrown out of the homeless shelter I was staying in and essentially living on the streets, which meant having to go to restaurants to eat (living on the streets is pretty damned expensive, don't let anyone tell you otherwise!).
When I arrived at City Hall, there was no one there. And by no one, I mean literally no workers from the City except maintenance and security staff. I encountered other citizens from Hartford wandering about the hallowed halls of City Hall looking for assistance. Like myself, they were unable to find a single worker from the City of Hartford to assist them with their needs.
I finally came across a security guard who advised me to call 211 for assistance with housing issues. I told her that if I did that, all they would do is give me an appointment for 211 to ring me back, and I didn't have a telephone where they could reach me as my service had been temporarily disconnected due to late payment of my bill. The worker offered no other support or assistance, only repeating that I should ring 211 from the courtesy phone at the empty welcome desk. I walked all around City Hall, knocking on office doors and ringing bells in an attempt to find someone—anyone—who would be able to help me but to no avail.
Mally Rosado, the Hartford City Council President, had stopped communicating with me, despite her promise to keep in touch. I was evicted from the homeless shelter I had been staying in for the past year after being thrown out on the streets and having all of my possessions—including the last of my dearly departed mother's mementos and keepsakes—purloined from me by a vile and vicious woman who also defrauded me out of most of my mother's insurance money by charging me rent for an apartment that didn't exist, and then tossing me out onto the street, keeping all of my possessions with her (the Hartford Police Department weren't interested in pursuing a case against her, one Rose Mary (aka Gypsy) Gordon formerly of 67 Sterling Street, Hartford, CT).
In any event, when I completed my tour of City Hall I realized that there was nobody who would be able to help me. I felt completely helpless and despondent and thought that perhaps if I killed myself at City Hall I might garner some attention there. I walked out of City Hall and down the street a few feet to a small park and sat on the wall to catch my breath, as both COVID-19 and pulmonary/cardiac issues are such that I can't walk more than a few hundred feet without getting completely winded.
I sat down on the brick/concrete wall and realized that if I didn't dial 911 and ask to be taken to the Emergency Department to be admitted to hospital, that when I got up I would step in front of the next express bus that was speeding down the road. I began sobbing uncontrollably. I just felt so completely hopeless, that no one could help me with any of my problems, and that nobody cared about me. All I wanted to do was to step in front of the next speeding bus. Eventually, I managed to gather myself together enough to dial 911 through my sobs (obviously, as I'm sitting here writing this) and was admitted for a two-week inpatient stay at the Institute of Living, one of the nation's oldest mental health hospitals, where I received very rudimentary treatment for my suicidal thoughts and depression and was then discharged.
Since emerging from my last psychiatric hospitalization I have been hanging on by a thread. To get by I have been watching streaming content and playing games and using other apps on my smartphone to keep my mind distracted and away from "bad thoughts." Some of the apps I have been using cost money and require in-app purchases. Thus, I have been known to lose track of exactly how much money I've been spending with those in-app purchases. A $5, $8, or $10 purchase one day may not seem like much but when I forget that I've just made such a purchase the other day, it adds up fairly quickly and my bank account becomes overdrawn. Add to that the overdraft fees and one can begin to form a picture of how my finances can become a mess.
Currently, I receive around $1500 per month from my SSDI check. Out of that, I must pay about $200 for my prescription co-pays for the medication I need to survive. Another $225 goes to my Medicare insurance premiums, so about one-third of my income goes toward medical expenses every month. I'm now paying about $750 per month on bills, most of which are credit card payments. I'm only paying the minimum payment, which means I'm barely paying those bills down. I only have one credit card that's currently active--the rest have been closed by the banks. If I don't pay the other bills they immediately go into collections, which will further damage my already poor credit score, making it more difficult for me to eventually find housing.
That leaves me with around $300 per month for food and other expenses like travel to medical appointments. The good news is that I did manage to get approved for food stamps. The not-so-good news? I'm approved to receive a whopping $16 per month in SNAP benefits (fka food stamps), which is enough to purchase about one day's worth of food.
We're approaching the peak of summertime and I have a very difficult time breathing in the hot, humid air that we get here in Connecticut and the Northeast. I need an air conditioner to help me breathe (it's a need, not a luxury) but the cheapest models that will cool the room where I've been staying start at around $225 (that's for a 6,000 BTW unit). Plus, I'll have to give the friend I've been staying with some money (he said about $100 per month) to help with the increased electric bill.
If I purchase an A/C unit, I'm going to get a decent one, as I'd take it with me when I leave my friend's room where I've been staying ever since the shelter threw me out onto the streets (for being a few minutes late for their curfew, but we all know the real reason I was thrown out was that I began complaining about the living conditions there, e.g., 50 men sharing one toilet and one shower, etc.).
Speaking of that, before I went into the hospital, I was thrown out of the shelter and had been staying on the streets. When I came out of hospital, a good friend was kind enough to let me stay in a spare room that he has in his condo. I've been here ever since being thrown out of the shelter in November. It's about 1½ blocks from Hartford Hospital (and two blocks from the medical office building where some of my specialist doctors are located). So I can sometimes walk to a few of the specialist doctor's appointments that I'm now getting.
That's another thing, I'm beginning to take care of my physical health, as well. Those years of putting off taking care of myself to look after mum have taken a bit of a toll on me. I've developed some cardiac issues, and I also have been diagnosed with kidney disease. Contracting COVID-19 last year appears to have had some lasting effects on me as well, particularly with my respiratory and digestive functions. Plus there are the previous issues I've been dealing with for some time, morbid obesity, mental health (severe chronic depression & anxiety), respiratory, migraine, limited mobility, chronic pain, and a list of other issues as long as one's arm that I've been dealing with for nearly two decades since my automobile accident in 2002.
Add to my apparently declining physical health issues my housing issue that, as I'm not physically on the streets, I'm no longer considered homeless—can you imagine that? Even though I don't have a home of my own, I'm not homeless, simply because I'm not physically on the street. But like many homeless individuals who live in hotels, are couch surfing, or are staying with friends or relatives, I'm not considered homeless. Thus, I'm not eligible for any of the services that exist for homeless individuals or families.
Let me repeat. Because I'm not physically on the streets, even though I am homeless, I cannot get any sort of housing assistance for being homeless. The only way to get help for being homeless in Connecticut is to call 211 and go through their system. But when you call 211 and tell them that you're staying at a friend's, they don't consider you as being homeless. It's absolutely bonkers!
The worst part of this is that many agencies actually don't want this to change. They want things to remain the way they are because it would make things look bad. That's right. If we changed the definition of homelessness to reflect the actual reality, then it would make the government look bad. You know, sort of how the way the government deals with unemployment (the government doesn't count even remotely close to everyone unemployed in its statistics, to make it look like it's doing a much better job of—excuse the pun—managing the jobs in the nation than it actually is).
It's the same thing with homelessness. The government doesn't count anywhere close to the actual number of individuals, youth, and truly homeless families. If it did that, then some fear the actual number being reported might triple, according to homeless advocacy agency the Northeast Ohio Coalition for the Homeless. And of course, this also means that the government doesn't have to actually help anyone, or admit to needing to help anyone, which is another thing entirely. Because heaven forbid that the government admits there are people out there who are in actual need of assistance. But I digress...
There is some good news. I managed to get on the waiting list for disabled housing in a major city in Connecticut. Of course, I'm #1418 out of 1500 on that waiting list. And I just received notification that I have been accepted onto the waiting list for a Section 8 program of another city in Connecticut but they haven't given me a position. That waiting list has 4,000 people on it and they've said that as they have no funding, the only way for anyone to advance in the list is for someone currently holding a Section 8 certificate in the city to either die or move out of the State. But at least I've managed to get onto two housing waiting lists, this year, which is more progress than I made last year, right?
I need some summer clothes, as the shelter somehow managed to "lose" the few summer clothes I had purchased last year during the few weeks they were storing my belongings after I'd been thrown out. I now have only a handful of clothes, as everything else I'd owned was stolen by that woman. I've gone from having a month's worth of clothes down to a few day's worths. Some may consider that to be sufficient but considering the difficulty I have getting to laundry facilities, it isn't nearly enough for me to get by.
I also need some personal and household items. I have a wishlist on Amazon.com if you'd like to purchase some of them for me directly (shipping information is already contained when you purchase from this list). I need about $3,000 to get my phone service restored (due to fees they've charged for contract cancellations, I've already managed to pay the past due amounts).
I could also do with stocking up on some basic food items in the pantry, as well as some cooking utilities and gadgets and what-not. I'm beginning to flex my cooking muscles again. It's fun, for the most part. The cleaning up, well, not so much. But such is life, right? 😝
At the moment, my bank account balance stands at $-300 (that's negative three hundred dollars). So I'll need to overcome that before I'm able to purchase anything. If just 100 of my friends each donated $20, that should be enough to get me through the summer. Of course, if 1,000 of you each donated $10, I'd be able to pay off a few bills and get through the summer. If 10,000 people could each donate $10, I might even be able to purchase a condo for myself!
If you can help out with my GoFundMe, I'd greatly appreciate it and be ever so grateful. Even a $5 contribution helps a great deal, especially if you share this with your friends. And if you can't contribute now but will share my story, that's a huge help as well.
Thanks for taking the time to read my update. For now, I'm still hanging on by a thread. I'll continue to keep my mind occupied and away from "bad thoughts" as best I can. Now that the COVID-19 restrictions are easing up, I hope to find some new, real friends who will take me out and explore my new home region. And hopefully, I'll be able to find ways to increase and supplement my income.
I have an Amazon Wish List that you can order items I need and send directly to me but bear in mind that I currently stay in a shelter and have no space to keep or store items beyond bare essentials.
I love receiving gifts (who doesn't?), especially handmade items and baked goods (what can I say, I have such a sweet tooth!). Did somebody say chocolate? Please contact me directly for a mailing address.
More importantly, I love being able to give gifts. So even though I may not be able to do so now, please share your Amazon Wish Lists with me, or just leave a comment and let me know what sort of things make you happy and brighten your day!
If you're in or passing through the greater Hartford, CT area, I'd love to meet up with you for a cuppa (especially a Chai latte at SBUX) or some other tea house. Perhaps a short stroll through Elizabeth Park or West Farm Mall. Something to just get out, stretch my legs, mind, and be with positive people. If you can provide transportation, I can provide some great company and conversation. Contact me to arrange an adult play date. It would mean the world to me (and yes, of course, I'll wear a mask!).
Let's be clear--the nation's entire transportation system is deteriorating. While Hartford certainly could do with a restructuring of its disastrous and abysmal transportation options, one certainly could do a lot better than the currently proposed $15 billion plan set forth by the Bronins' cronies, as reported recently in the CT Mirror: There’s a new plan for realigning Hartford’s highways. Is the third time the charm?
If one is serious about fixing Hartford's convoluted, broken road system, then it should be replaced with a better system, not one that's equally broken, or worse, and one that also looks to the future, not just one that seeks to keep current problems at bay.
Such a road plan should consider using new materials such as compressed styrofoam, foam glass aggregates such as Glavel, or other new technologies and include the embedding of solar panels (like those employed by SolarRoadways). It should allow for pedestrian, bicycle, and other eco-friendly modes of transit, as well as provide wireless charging for electric vehicles and other such devices.
Modular construction techniques like the European Union's new plastic road initiative should be considered and modular traffic control systems that can quickly alter traffic routes in the event of emergencies or accidents, autonomously, should be thought about. Of course, 3D printing of roads should also be considered--something that should cut construction costs considerably.
Our roads and highways should pave a path forward that brings Hartford into the 22nd century, not one that keeps us stuck where we are. Thought should be put into autonomously-driven vehicle-only lanes for all sorts of vehicles to utilize in a rapid transit system where AI systems would be able to safely navigate entry and exit.
Many of these features would be more cost-effective (especially over the long-term) than the nonsensical flapdoodle proposed by the current $15 billion plan. And nearly all of the technologies I've mentioned either are in use today or in the final stages of testing.
Apparently, nobody in planning has the wisdom or the foresight to think in such logical terms or with any sort of vision for the future; rather, their only flights of fancy and imagination come in the form of creating ingenious ways of how to further enrich their and/or their friends' coffers, offshore bank accounts, and other tax havens.
Don't think Mayor Bronin and his wife don't have their hands in the pot. We all know they're the white monied Democratic-powered machine that oils gentrified development in Hartford these days. With the Mayor's wife heading this Hartford 400 project's development plans, well, it's all but a shoo-in, isn't it, folks?
Is your town or city planning to repair or upgrade its roadways? If so, what new and visionary means are they taking into account in the planning process? Let us know in the comments below. Let's begin sharing great ideas and moving our villages, towns, and cities forward!
