Reflections from a former guest whom I will call Marcus for privacy reasons.
For years, I thought I understood homelessness.
I believed the solution was straightforward: a job, a place to stay, and a little bit of support. I carried those assumptions with confidence until I experienced homelessness myself. In a matter of months, I learned how quickly stability can unravel, and how difficult it is to rebuild when the systems meant to catch you simply don’t.
Today, I serve as Executive Director of St. Benedict’s and the Daniel Pitino Shelter. Every day, I work alongside individuals facing the same barriers I once did — people like Marcus. And even now, with the perspective of lived experience and formal training, I’m still learning. Because mental illness, especially schizophrenia, doesn’t follow neat timelines or fit within institutional boxes.
Too often, our culture defines people as Marcus by their illness or circumstance, instead of by their humanity. This story is for anyone willing to see differently.
Marcus’s story
“I wake up with the sun, not because I want to, but because the park bench doesn’t block the heat.
My name is Marcus. I’m 41 years old, and I sleep wherever I can. Some people call me ‘the guy who talks to himself.’ They don’t know it’s because the voices don’t sleep. And they don’t stop just because I’m outside.”
Marcus once held a steady job repairing appliances. He rented a small house. He even had a cat named Junebug. Then came the onset of schizophrenia — gradual, disorienting. Over time, the voices became louder than reason. He lost his job, his home, and eventually, his sense of safety.
“Living on the streets doesn’t just take away your address,” Marcus says. “It chips away at your worth. You learn which gas stations will let you wash up without calling the cops. You rehearse how to ask for help, and how to apologize for needing it.”
Things began to change when Marcus arrived at St. Benedict’s for shelter and found support through services at the Daniel Pitino Shelter. These weren’t just temporary beds; they were places where he felt seen.
“They didn’t flinch when I said I had schizophrenia,” he said. “They didn’t treat me like I was broken. They treated me like I was still becoming.”
That mindset has shaped our entire approach. Our programs celebrate every step forward, volunteering, attending life skills classes, honoring appointments, or even showing up on hard days. We don’t expect perfection; we recognize progress. Healing begins when someone is greeted by name and reminded of their worth.
A shared struggle, a shared hope
Have you ever considered what it’s like to manage a severe mental illness without a safe place to sleep? To navigate a condition like schizophrenia without consistent care, rest, routine, or connection?
Marcus is doing the best he can. Some days are better than others. And even with permanent housing, self-sufficiency might always be out of reach for him. But that doesn’t make him any less deserving of care, dignity, or belonging. That’s why we’re here.
Those of us who work in shelters serve people like Marcus, everyday individuals who have spent years on the streets, sometimes running from the voices, sometimes overwhelmed by medication or isolation. But behind every symptom is a human being trying to cope and trying desperately to be understood.
“I still hear voices,” Marcus tells us. “I still have bad nights. But sometimes, I hear a different voice — the one that says, ‘Keep going. You’re not alone.’ That one — I know — is mine.”
If you’ve never experienced homelessness or if mental illness feels distant from your world, I hope Marcus’s words offered a glimpse into that reality. Let them shift your perspective. Let them soften your assumptions. And if you or someone you love is struggling, know that help exists and that it can come without judgment.
If you’d like to support our mission at St. Benedict’s or the Daniel Pitino Shelter, we welcome your partnership. Visit us, call, or explore our websites. We are only able to serve people like Marcus because of people like you.
Written by
Harry E. Pedigo, MSSW, MHFAI, CENM
Executive Director
St. Benedict and Daniel Pitino Shelters
