Hospitalized; Houseless; Have a Dog

Hello, hola!

 

My name is José, though most folks probably know me as Joe Gutierrez. I'm writing to preemptively stave off complete financial collapse, as I presently find myself houseless due to a recent hospitalization and the consequent diagnosis that I live with schizophrenia. While working, I experienced an acute concussion from an ice-related fall, which then lead to a steady and increasing onset of psychosis, for which I was hospitalized. While I was in the hospital, receiving treatment for both my concussion and diagnosis, I found out that I lost my caregiving job, which was my primary source of income—that job was tied to my housing, which ultimately left me displaced. 

While I am grateful that I did receive care for my head injury upon being hospitalized, the new knowledge and awareness of my diagnosis is a source of anxiety for me, as I face the very real possibility of not having a residence to house the beautiful basset hound I live with, whose care, among my own, I am responsible for.

Losing my job and housing wouldn’t be such a blow if I’d already had another spot lined up, a journey I was on the precipice of embarking upon prior to my hospitalization, but as it happened, the timing didn’t quite work out that way. I went to the hospital; I was aggressively interviewed about why I found myself in the hospital; I was non-consensually made to take drugs whose actions and interactions the hospital staff either was unable to explain or refused to explain to me. I was transferred to the psychiatric ward with no phone or access to a phone; the one request I made, a rubber band to wear on my wrist, for my own personal sense of safety, was denied. Two weeks later, I was discharged with no place to go.

 

I've decided that whether or not my concussion precipitated or related to my diagnosis isn't really for me to know, but living with the awareness and stigma that schizophrenia brings has been an ever-widening life event. What else is a psychotic break but an invitation for…just a break? Or, a reset. I am excited and committed to continue doing the inner work that keeps me in relation with the people and non-people that constitute my environment, but the problem of houselessness has taxed me quite a bit.

 

I know that I'm in a little bit of a rough patch, i.e., life events, and that I can use a little bit of help from the community to help me dust myself off, or at least take my clothes to the laundromat, haha.

 

A little about me and what I do when I am well: I am a latinx non-binary poet, writer, and caregiver. I am interested in dialogue as a meaningful healing modality. I believe in navigating through worlds with a sense of rhythm, humility, and humor. These are my primary tools, and they have more or less kept me safe, grounded, and connected within the various communities I am blessed to be a part of and visit.

I want to emphasize, for just a moment more, the trouble I indirectly invite onto my loved ones by being difficult to care for in times of crisis. I, like many other people, crave complete control of my environment; when I do not feel in control of how swiftly or not I receive housing, food stamps, subsidized aid, etc., I get a little despondent. 

Part of my predicament, it seems to me, is that I did not go into the hospital sooner after my fall; that it took myself and clinicians however many years to prescribe me a medication that makes me feel even more balanced than I normally do. The self-blame I feel is akin to the fear many of us have before going in to the dentist: the scrutiny with which their inquiries imply time: i.e., how long has it been?; i.e., how long has it been since you last cared for yourself, truly? Those questions invite fright and shame upon anyone, but as a caregiver who has trouble hanging up the coat, answering those questions, truthfully, especially frightens me. I’m comfortable living a life of service, but only when the party being served isn’t me. Yikes!

 

Which means I want to end with a rose that is also a call for help, or perhaps a call to action: I am also lovingly responsible for caring for a beautiful one-year-old basset hound named Carlos (pictured), whom I have had the great fortune of living with since he was a puppy. The form of help Carlos and I presently need is material, so any donations or tips to this page will directly go to paying for: 

1) HOSPITAL RELATED

- I need to pay my hospital bill for my lengthy stay.

- My prescribed medications cost me $400+

- Psychiatry appointments

- Therapy appointments

- Completing a rigorous “IOP” outpatient program

2) RELOCATION AND SHELTER

- First month and last month rent deposit

- Storage unit to house my possessions while I am houseless

- Travel and relocation costs (gas, shelter, plane tickets)

- Car maintenance; my car is in need of servicing

3) CARLOS

- Veterinary bills for Carlos: boosters, flea medication, examination

- Boarding costs for Carlos

- Food for Carlos

I am asking for your help now so that my condition does not worsen. I am familiar with the popular images of the mentally “disturbed” houseless person. I am asking for your help to rewrite, or perhaps make a step towards revising, that story.

 

Your help allows me to focus on completing my recovery while also caring for Carlos (light of my life, among others). I sincerely thank you for the time spent reading my words, and wish you luck, wherever you may be.

 

warmly,

José (they/he) y Carlos Gutierrez