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I used to be homeless



Well-known member
Feb 3, 2020
London, Uk
Maybe you can relate. I happened to see some personal testimonies and I decided to write.

Writing here is my therapy. My outlet.

I have been through so much in life. And I can always remember the feeling. I always ask myself what is the meaning of this? How do I fit into all of this?

I always tell myself. Until this day; good will come from this.

I had the blues in a sense. My kids are growing up. I have learned to let go. But it is a new dynamic because my youngest is still a baby.

Well. Researching online. I came across a few stories online. And so many memories returned.

I thought about you all here. I had to share how it impacted me.

I am uber successful. I still face mental challenges daily. These are some of my deepest secrets. I know exactly how it is to loose everything. And have no one to turn to.

Not out of pride but, embarrassment and even depression. My family is very well known. And my perspective of the situation was actually worst than the reality of the situation due to Sz.

I always think about how I was defenseless. And by a miracle, I was safe; overall.

Overtime. It was a basic survival skill that I perfected and mastered over time. Just having a car to sleep in, makes a huge difference.

My cousin owns a car dealership. Thinking back now. I could have easily parked there over nights. And survived to save enough to get a place to stay.

I used to buy 5 pounds of shrimp. I am actually alergic to sea food... But I would drive across the river. Far far away. Like an hour away!

I would fish using the shrimp. For a croaker. Cut the croakers in half. Then. Use the croakers to fish baby black tip sharks.

At the end of the night. I would throw the sharks back in the water. Brake nights. Sleeping in my car... And leave at sun rise. I had a BMW. Really nice. But I slept in the lake front...

I had my clothes in the trunk. I had a good job. But emotionally. I was so broken. And I know people saw me hurt. They may not have spoken of it. But it was easy to see. In my opinion.

I actually hid it from my parents. For a long time. I was on the brink of suicide at least a few times.

I moved up to a shelter. Still with my BMW. I stayed there with about 60 other people. They actually issued me an official homeless card. I got a job driving 18 wheelers under the table. Making $10.00/ hour.

Story of my life.

I moved across the country. To rebuild my life. I got married. And my life changed forever.

But I will never forget.

I was kicked out of my brothers house over a silver BMW. And $2,000.00.

I bought a white one. And that became my home.

Thinking back now. I could have easily replaced both. But I was so deeply in shock. I had never been thrown out? I was a deer in front of headlights.

I was fairly young and green. I thought I was older in my own thoughts. But looking back now. I was mentally a child.

My brother thought that he was toughening me up? Or forcing me to succeed. But this moment scarred me severely.

I am grateful for it now.

I bought my silver BMW 2 door from my cousin for $4,000.00. I had a white sports car just stolen from me a few months prior.

After September 11th, 2001. My family and I moved to New Orleans. 2005. Katrina. Yes. I survived both.

My family and I relocated to Baltimore Maryland temporarily. When we arrived. We lived in hotels for a few months.

A pizza delivery driver. Had a white Toyota MR2. 1990's classic. And my favorite car.

My twin brother and I, would go smoke cigarettes outside of our hotel. Out front.

This pizza delivery kid. Would drive this MR2 daily.

My twin and I would fantasize on how we would build it. If we had the chance to own it. Etc.

We moved into an apartment. Shortly thereafter. I returned to college. And I got a student loan.

One day. I took my brother and some friends out to eat. A really nice place called ESPN cafe/ restaurant.

I saw a blue 1988. Toyota MR2 parked outside of a mechanic shop. I asked to buy it. Asked about its owner etc. The owner greeted us very nicely. And told me that it was not for sale.

But. He had this 1991 white one. With a targa top. For sale. I think I paid him 90% in cash that day. Then I returned a few weeks later with the remaining 10% and drove it home.

I had it for two years I believe. And it was stolen...

My grandmother had just passed away. I wound up in a mental institution next to my college.

I returned to New Orleans. Once I got treatment.

I moved in with my brother and his wife.

I saved. And bought my silver BMW coupe. My cousin wanted $4,000.00. Again. A dream car for me. I had $2,000.00.

My brother gave my cousin the other $2,000.00. He registered the car in his name. Did some maintenance and repairs on it. And drove it daily.

I was crushed. Once again.

My grandfather died.

My family flew overseas for final arrangements. Forget the car. I wanted to fly there too. I tried to go with my brother. But he deemed the trip financially too expensive.

Plus he had just spent $3,000.00 in total on the car.... His wife forced him to sell my car.

After a heated argument. Inside my other cousins mechanic shop, and in front of all of the elder men in my family; my brother gave me my $2,000.00 back.

And kicked me out.

My cousin found me a 4 door BMW. And sold it to me for $1,500.00. Insurance. Registration. And...

I am homeless in a white BMW.

I worked at a dealership selling new cars, during these times. My money went to food and gasoline. Insurance etc. I wore the same clothes for 4 months. Lived in my car. Slept fishing at the lake front. Broken hearted.

I eventually lost it all. From shelters. To three different cars.... A saturn coupe. Then a Mitsubishi Galant... I lost my job driving 18 wheelers. Making $10.00 because I had no CDL. Only a permit. I was ticketed and fined.

The company lapsed insurance and plates. All of the tickets were given to me...

My cousin paid for a grey hound. As my last stance. I moved across the nation. To rebuild my life.

And I did.

I am who I am today because of all of these things in part. Looking back now. My youngest son was born from this....

What does this mean? What did it mean then? What does it mean now?

When I drove 18 wheelers. My helpers were all on hard drugs. I let them sleep in my cargo trailers over night. As I crashed in my Mitsubishi.

One day. I cought them smoking crack.

They asked me... Why do you work here, off the books for $10.00/ hour? You are not like us?

Don't you have a family?

No. Not really....I responded. And walked back to my car. ...

The crackheads... Felt bad for me... I was their boss.


Good. Will. Come. From this...

I kept telling myself.

Good will come from this. I say that to myself every day.

Wherever you are in this universe. I pray this reaches you.

Fight hard. Never surrender. Never give up.

No matter what.

May the force be with you.

God bless. 🙏


Well-known member
Feb 3, 2020
London, Uk
It took me 3 years to become a millionare. A few more to multiply that.

This was one of my motivational factors.

I always worked hard. But since... I became a machine.