The mental health issues in the inner city don't always culminate in physical violence. Here's yesterday's story...
2 large checks were stolen from the mailbox of my building. They then attempted to cash one of the checks.
These checks weren't stolen just for straight crime. That would make sense. These checks were stolen because the person believes I have stolen his business, stolen his social security payments. He believes I am stealing his entire identity and somehow making vast sums of money off of him. (his entire life has become a fantasy of epic proportions as he lives in a tent in my back yard.)
Needless to say, I am installing a very secure mailbox so he can't easily get the mail.
I'd be tempted to call the police on him. But I don't have video footage of him taking the checks and then it all becomes a difficult case that no one has time for.
This isn't about justice served anyway. I recovered the checks through the help of several other homeless people who live with us.
This is, yet again, a story of untreated mental illness. I'd LOVE to be able to call someone and tell this story to them. Then they would send a caseworker out who would make this man a priority. They would create a case for him and would follow up with him over time. They'd build a relationship with him. He'd start to trust them and then would eventually get the help he needs. But that is just another fantasyland story that doesn't exist.
The inner city becomes an insane asylum. People yelling into the wind. People creating worlds that don't exist. All we can do is live with the people who don't hurt us and build various forms of protection barriers for people that believe we are attacking them in various ways.
2 large checks were stolen from the mailbox of my building. They then attempted to cash one of the checks.
These checks weren't stolen just for straight crime. That would make sense. These checks were stolen because the person believes I have stolen his business, stolen his social security payments. He believes I am stealing his entire identity and somehow making vast sums of money off of him. (his entire life has become a fantasy of epic proportions as he lives in a tent in my back yard.)
Needless to say, I am installing a very secure mailbox so he can't easily get the mail.
I'd be tempted to call the police on him. But I don't have video footage of him taking the checks and then it all becomes a difficult case that no one has time for.
This isn't about justice served anyway. I recovered the checks through the help of several other homeless people who live with us.
This is, yet again, a story of untreated mental illness. I'd LOVE to be able to call someone and tell this story to them. Then they would send a caseworker out who would make this man a priority. They would create a case for him and would follow up with him over time. They'd build a relationship with him. He'd start to trust them and then would eventually get the help he needs. But that is just another fantasyland story that doesn't exist.
The inner city becomes an insane asylum. People yelling into the wind. People creating worlds that don't exist. All we can do is live with the people who don't hurt us and build various forms of protection barriers for people that believe we are attacking them in various ways.