K = Knocking
Over the last few years door knocking seems to be an integral part of my life, its endless from debt collectors, who by the way seem to have special way of knocking at your door, it’s designed to scare the living daylights out of you, I wonder if they receive special training for it.
People have knocked on my windows, I used to watched frightened as they moved around outside trying to see in as they tappity tapped on my windows when there was no answer from the door knocking, some would use pens, which is especially irritating, others their knuckles usually 3 sharp raps on the door, others their fists, all which added up to they wanted to enter to talk about how I could resolve my debts problems.
Not that this happened on a daily basis, however it did make me fearful of leaving the house except when I absolutely had to, I was always afraid that someone would turn up and lock me out or remove my property which they did, but that was with a court order.
At home is where you should feel safest, so to be scared to open your door seems at odds with the idea of safety and security, when I spent several months trying to cling onto walls that I was going lose, whilst at the same time the walls in my mind were beginning their avalanche into a serious and debilitating depressive episode which I never thought I’d escape.
Now I find myself knocking on doors, to get help in an over burdened system, that is designed not to help if that makes sense, were all just moved around from department to department, agency to agency, just knocking on doors, to see if they have an answer, which is always to knock on that door down there, so off you go again, it’s a wonder I have any knuckles left.
I’ll be doing the rounds again tomorrow I know it’s pointless, but if I miss a day there’s always that niggling thought today could have been the day that I find suitable accommodation, hope and luck play a huge role in this, so I knock and I wait, I’ve learned to be patient, and learned to explain my circumstances in about 5 minutes flat, and anticipate all the questions and have become a whiz at filling in forms, but I need something more to happen, and cannot do this alone.
There have been many kindnesses, for which I’ll be forever grateful, which have come from unexpected places, but I can’t keep dipping into that well, as it just makes me feel as though I’m always taking but never giving back, and that doesn’t sit well with me, I’m not a person that likes to be beholden to anybody but I am, which is all part of the homelessness package, it just diminishes you.
When I was 21 I received the keys to the door, that mythical door to the future, now I just want a key to a place I can call home.