Being Mormon & Homeless In Utah Taught Me Ten Important Truths
Having Nothing Can Be A Frightening Experience
I was alone and homeless in Mormon, Utah, about sixteen years ago through a divorce and mental health issues. But that's another story for another time. For me, that experience changed my whole thinking. The narrator in the movie Fight Club stated, "Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, ending one minute at a time." Time suddenly did not work in the same way as it had before. However, it did slow down and sped up, as each day seemed like a never-ending nightmare.
1 — One of the most important lessons I learned was that there are good people in this world. Jon ensured I had a phone to keep in contact with my family. Mark made sure that he brought a sense of normalcy to my dark life whenever he could feed me a meal or take me to the movies. Lisa offered me a safe place to be whenever I needed it. Geno took me in and provided for me for long periods. Dan offered me his empty basement in the wintertime. And my daughters gave me hope on the other end of the telephone. The number one trait they all showed? They did not make judgments, no matter my situation and mental condition. I have never forgotten what they did for me. And never will. I have attempted to pay it forward ever since.
2 — Homelessness taught me humility. Throughout these eighteen months, I had never begged or asked for anything from a stranger on the streets. I thought that I deserved to be homeless and that I was not deserving of any assistance. My mental health at that time was not at its best; it was moving toward its worst. I finally realized how low I had fallen when I saw a family throw away the pizza they had been eating in the park. It took about thirty minutes of arguing with myself, but eventually, I strolled towards the trash can, opened the box, and took a bite of what was left. I have never felt so utterly worthless.
3 — Homelessness taught me that my Mormon Faith or Religion did not care about me. I found enough courage or desperation one snowy, icy cold evening to visit the local Bishop to ask for a blanket or coat and maybe some food. The Bishop refused point-blank to help and turned me back into the blizzard. The Mormon Church in Utah was okay with taking my money in tithes and my time in service for many years, yet it turned me away when the shoe was on the other foot. As I walked away from the warm church building into the bright, freezing snow, I was a broken man.
4 — Homelessness taught me perseverance. I walked around the town center and surrounding areas every day, all day long. Walking was to occupy my active but dulled brain and to find money on the sidewalks that people could not be bothered to pick up. If I walked long enough, I would find about a dollar a day. A dollar was enough to buy a dollar burger at MacDonald's daily. It was an excellent place to be, either hot or cold outside.
5 — This experience taught me about the inequality of the American social services and medical systems. In short, they do not work, period. Unlike many civilized countries, no resources are readily available for poor people, addicted persons, or mental health patients. In the USA, jails and prisons have taken the place of hospitals and clinics. In addition, you have to deal with Police. The Police are not trained to care for the challenges in that population segment. They are used instead of professionally trained doctors and nurses.
6 — Homelessness taught me loyalty. Often in life, we do not get what we want. Although I knew there was little to no chance of seeing my small children every day, I walked eleven miles each way just in the hope I could get a glimpse of them at school. I loved them and still do; they were something I cared about and could hold onto.
7 — This dark period taught me that yesterday does not count for a damn thing. The society we live in reminds me of the words of comedian Eddie Murphy when he says, "What have you done lately? What have you done for me lately?" while discussing comedic relationships. The question is always, what can you do for me today and tomorrow? The banks want you when you have money but do not want you when you do not. The church wants you when you have money but do not when you do not. Your large group of friends wants you when you look and act like them but not so much when you do not.
8 — Homelessness taught me that humans control very little in their lives. The life most of us live is just an illusion. How safe are you really behind your doubled-chained doors? You do realize that anyone can kick in a door. Do you realize the windows will not keep out a determined bad guy? Do you realize anyone is only three months away from losing their home? Or that severe medical issues can bankrupt you several times over in the good ol' USA?
9 — It certainly taught me that being so cold and hungry as you slept at night over a small brook upon a wooden pallet does not qualify you for help in Mormon Utah. If you contribute some way to the capitalist pyramid, then maybe. However, if you are unable due to illness, mental health, inequality, age, etc., that is too bad. You do not exist in the wealthiest country in the world. You are superfluous to society's needs. You are even superfluous to the Mormon church's needs. No Jesus and no place to lay your head in Utah.
10 — The most significant thing I learned was that your broken heart could be healed. It may well take a long time, but it's possible. And along with it, your body and mind. It might take the help of a therapist and a good doctor with sensible medications, but there is a way back from the darkness that once enveloped you. If you can survive long enough, that is. I'm unsure if any other US state or religion would care, but I know I won't be homeless in Mormon Utah again.
© Stephen G. Arrowsmith 2022
[Rewritten and re-edited]
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