CPTSD/Disorders of extreme stress not otherwise specified

One cold blistery morning as I began my commute to work, I came across a young gentleman shivering silently, his teeth chattering, his eyes a shallow grey, sitting in the alleyway sipping on a steaming hot cup of tea.

The sun was barely awake, the sky still a slight cobalt blue and the wind was sharp. I proceeded to walk past this person but something in my chest was telling me to turn back. If I turn back now I’d be late for work.

I stopped and thought about what to do. I’m going to turn back – I need to see if this person is okay. I need to hear his story. I hum to myself as I walk back and stop outside the old Victorian theatre where the gentleman is sitting cradling his blanket as it drapes over his shoulders.

‘Are you okay?’, I ask, in a nervous voice.
The man slowly looks up and meets my gaze. In that moment I didn’t care about work, I just had this innate desire to help this person.
After a brief moment of hesitation the man responded.
‘I-I’m fine. I – I’m just cold – what a morning it is.’
I check my watch as I kneel to the man’s level of positioning, careful not to look away in doing so.
‘I’d like to hear your story of your circumstances and how you have ended up on the streets, if you don’t mind me asking of course.’
The man takes a deep hoarse breath looking behind me as if there is someone watching us.
I quickly peer behind my right shoulder then when realising there was nothing but the stillness of the transparent air I sat beside him.
‘C-ccaan I?’, he stutters as he reaches for my hand. I nod as he clasps my hand in his.

‘It was three years back when it happened. I was working on North Shore Oil Rig earning a fair amount of money. Something happened on the rig that day and as I didn’t socialise with anyone the blame was put on me. I lost everything in an instant, but it wasn’t me. The police were called but there was evidence of any wrongdoing on my behalf but yet it was possible for me to lose absolutely everything. I’ve been on the streets for six months now – I had a good amount of savings but I used all the funds to rent hostels and low cost hotels over the past two years and now I have nothing left.’

I looked sympathetically at him as I reached into my bag to pull out my purse. He looked over at me as I rustled a few paper notes.

‘I know it’s not much but I’d like you to get out of this cold, so please be sensible with the money.’

He looked at me confusingly, wide-eyed and in awe.

‘Wow, I don’t really know what to say b-but thank you.’

I caught a glimpse of hope in his eyes as I passed him the money.

I said my goodbye, gave the man a hug, then walked the slow commute to work feeling blessed and grateful for what I had.