“Sad and terrifying.

Those are the two words that I can use to describe my experience on the street. When I was an unhoused 15 to 16-year-old boy with depression it extremely was overwhelming.

Each day felt like a constant battle against sadness, uncertainty, and the fear of being kicked out of the shelters where my sister, mother, and I were staying.

I turned to weed, nicotine, and alcohol since they offered a temporary escape from the harsh realities of my life on the streets, but they only masked the pain temporarily.

When my mother and I had the opportunity to be in a shelter specifically the Golden Hall Shelter in San Diego, CA, it was nice. Still, it also was a challenge for me considering the overcrowding of the shelter and the limited resources available for everyone.

Having a struggling mom with bipolar disorder added another layer of hardship and instability in my life, it left me feeling abandoned, heartbroken, and unsupported during times of hardship.

I have a little sister who was rarely there for me since she decided she wanted to go live with our father and spend more time with him while I was stuck with our mom. It felt like it was me against the world.

I didn’t have any support from anyone that I considered my “family”, but my one friend David, had the kindness in his heart to let me and my mom live in his house till we could get back on our feet and eventually an apartment.

I still thank him over and over for having my back during those nights when I was alone and struggling with not only, school but my job, and my mental health. Overall, it was a constant struggle to find hope and a little bit of stability throughout my journey of being unhoused, it was chaos.” - Anonymous