I Only Heard a Few Words . . .

I only overheard four or five words “ . psychologist . . . prescribed valium . . .” But that, coupled with a quick peek at the conversant, was enough to construct an entire story, and one with a high probability of being accurate. He, the speaker was in his forties, a little rough looking – but not scary rough and he was seated astride a cheap bicycle. The person he was chatting with was a woman in her early forties, but with street people it’s hard to tell. Living “rough” ages people so quickly. The streets of Escondido are a haven for the homeless; the weather is bland, the streets are quite safe, and there doesn’t seem to be a strong push by the police to keep the streets clear. She was attractive, as far as I could tell, reasonably clean and dressed in strong and warm, but worn clothing that was a good match for the outdoors. The pack was the give-away, she was clearly on the streets. I wonder what led to her current lifestyle. She gave an aura of strength and having her act together, she seemed like she could be outfitted for life in the protected world with only a little care and grooming. People don’t talk about valium while standing on a sidewalk, so the snippet of conversation I heard was enough. She had a mental problem, and one that wasn’t being controlled by medication. Rain was forecast for the next day and I wondered about where she would spend the time when the weather really was unpleasant.
I have seen other similar people on the streets, and I always try to imagine what events in their lives led them to be on the streets. One paycheck away and the paycheck didn’t come, a bad relationship that left them with no money. Illness physical or mental? Each of the stories must be somewhat unique and many must be interesting. But my guess is that anyone collecting the stories would quickly tire of hearing the same thing, the blaming of the outside world, the whining and ducking responsibility – perhaps I am bounding my personal limits of compassion.