Well whilst I can’t answer this directly on here just yet as it was a question posted for gishwhes. I will say, things have not been peachy and there are days I feel like I am fighting for my life.
Welcome to my world…a slice of hell with a sprinkle heaven-
This is MY story. A friend made a go fund me because we have not to long before we have to leave. Nothing has been done legally by the landlord. We were given till Aug. 16 now there’s a hearing on the 29th of this month. Charming contributes all he can but with bad credit from our exs noone will take us. We literally have no where to go. The campaign has thus far raised us little money. And I’m scared. I may be hospitalized soon for an infection that antibiotics can’t beat. Charming may need back surgery. Our spirits have to stay up for the kids but we don’t know where to go or what to do. ANYTHING Can help. A share a donation a prayer an idea. A house a small one, two bedrooms will do. Lancaster is our home. Little man gets his services here and this is where our doctors are. Help us. Please.
This family of three is being unfairly relocated due to their landlord ending their month to month lease on a property they have lived in for over 4 years. They have not been able to get government help. They must move by 8/16. These funds would help them afford a down payment and moving fees for a new start. Note: the family wishes to remain anonymous
-Their Story –
After moving to Lancaster Pennsylvania for a fresh start, single mom SRS moved into a 3 bedroom apartment with her 2 young children. From the start, the apartment had problems. No heat control led to the apartment being freezing cold in the winter and overwhelmingly hot in the summer. When she complained of the freezing temperature in the winter, the landlord stated he couldn’t do anything, and advised her to buy an electric heater. She does not have control of the electrical, because the fuse box is in the basement of the rental which she doesn’t have access to. The landlord refuses to address any basic repairs to the place. Although he is supposed to paint the apartment yearly, he has neglected to do so. When he promised to take the cost of repairs she had made off the rent, he reneged and only deducted $50 instead of $200. Because she cannot afford to move, she has stayed on in a place that is not up to code.
SRS has several chronic illness, and is on disability due to them. She states , “I was diagnosed with graves disease at 9, after a scare of thyroid cancer. They removed my thyroid at 13 and placed me on medication which I have been on since since I have no metabolic control. At 17, after a luekimia scare, I was diagnosed with chronic immune thrombocytopenic purpura(ITP), which means my body attacks my platelets like they are a virus. A low platelet count can cause anything from bruising to bleeding internally. In May of last year, I was rushed to the hospital with breathing issues and had to remain there a few days. During this time the children’s father took them and refused to give them back. This led to a legal battle which drained all of my funds. At that time I was also diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which is akin to fibromyalgia. Instead of causing nerve pain it causes the patient to suffer from fatigue and a depressed immune system. It also may cause migraines or blackouts, which I suffer from. After finally getting my children back and trying to get them back into a routine, I became ill again and was diagnosed with IGA deficiency. IGA deficiency is another autoimmune disease in which the mucous membranes do not function in immune response, leaving your body prone to infection. Treatments include monthly infusions of IV IG. A huge downside of IGA deficiency is that once the treatments start you can’t stop them, and if the patient needs blood transfusions, the blood usually needs to be washed ahead of time. Things were just beginning to get stable, when my boyfriend of almost a year began to physically and emotionaly abuse me while the children were at their father’s house. After shattering my windshield, he and his brother stole a number of my possessions in addition to money from my wallet. Presently I am recovering from the removal of both my mirena IUD and lap band, which my body rejected because I am allergic to them. My doctor thinks I may have lupus, which would explain all my other conditions.” Although SRS is on disability, she is trying to find at home work, is actively writing, and is freelancing as an editor to earn extra money.
In addition to her medical problems, SRS’s son J has been diagnosed with a sensory disorder at 2, Aspergers at 4, and ADHD at 6. He currently has a TSS 5 hours a week at home. He attends an after school program 3 days a week, to work in a group on social interactions. This program becomes a summer camp 5 days a week with the same staff. He also has one on one and family therapy to work on social skills, rigidity, emotional meltdowns, and expressing himself during transitions in the home and community, and sees a psychiatrist for medication management.
J and his sister K have been making top grades at school. K is starting 1st grade in the fall, and is reading at a 3rd grade level. J starts 3rd grade in the fall, and is reading at a 7th grade level. K wants to be a veterinarian and a ballroom dancer when she grows up. J is stuck between marine biologist and monster truck driver. Both children want to start an intrustment and a sport come the new school year. Neither child realizes how impoverished the family is.
Said he would not understand, I left a note and said I’m sorry I, had a bad day again.
Suicidal ideation, thoughts of scratching and cutting and taking all the happy pills just to see if they would make me happy, or make me fall asleep and wake up in a land where I was happy again. But I couldn’t do that, or at least I wouldn’t. For various reasons, number one and always number one is the kids, I wouldn’t let Trip have them. He didn’t deserve them, in my eyes he donated his sperm to my miracles and that was that. He didn’t deserve the title of Dad let alone Father, he does nothing for them save for spoil them and make them think he loves them when I know the truth, they will know the truth one day too. A harsh reality when they are teens and they find out the kind of person he really is. But I won’t tell them, it isn’t my place, just as it wasn’t my mother’s place to tell us (even though she did). Number two, I was a wuss, always had been. I lined up pills one by one by one and took them all, over two hundred when I was 13 and they told my best friends best friend, who hated me that I was going to die. I took them in the lunchroom at breakfast, no one stopped me but I didn’t want to die I was just tired of being awake and when I woke up finally in a hospital bed, my mother took me home and berated me. And for the next 5 years of my life tossed a big bottle full of pills at me whenever I was sad asking me if it would make it hurt less. It only made it worse because I knew she wouldn’t understand. So last night, instead of doing those things.
I punch the cabinet. Hard.
I don’t hit things.
I have weak girly hands.
But I punched it hard, two or three times. I lost count. But my hand bled and I felt calmer.
Now my hand is swollen, my primary hand. The dominant one.
I can’t even get off because my hand is bruised and swollen. But I guess what does it matter right?
And then we fought again. Charming and I. We fought and fought and I don’t know why. Because I needed to take my anger out somewhere and though he wanted me to write a book, he doesn’t understand why the blog was a stepping stone.
He doesn’t read it – invalidating
He didn’t thank me for cooking a healthy dinner four nights in a row – invalidating
He didn’t day he was proud of me for finding lawyers for what I went through in the ER – invalidating
He didn’t say I did a good job cleaning the kitchen even though standing hurts o much after 5 minutes and it took nearly two hours to do it – invalidating
He said I need to grow up. Need to stop placing blame and making excuses. Need to take responsibilities for my own actions. Asked me if this was the point I would turn around and start finding people to mess around with like I warned him I would when I felt I was invalidated in the beginning of our relationship. I cried, I sobbed. I never even look at anyone anymore.
I tried to explain to him my last fling before I saw him again, he didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear that it was always him I wanted and how I felt lucky to have him. How I loved him and how I wanted to be with him and I was with him because he pushed me and made me believe in myself. How he got me through PTSD and my triggers and how I was finally writing because of him. We can’t even spend a date night alone without fighting about something. He says I hide in my computer. Well my friends live in here. They do all of you who have validated me during the abuse when I had nowhere else to turn to. He was the one that said I would write a best seller but doesn’t understand why it had to start here.
He said I didn’t know how to be a person anymore.
Is he right? Have I forgotten how to be a person? Have I forgotten the basic principles of being personable? My phone has been broken for almost two weeks and it is so freeing so I blog and I play with the kids and I cook and I clean. And yesterday was a bad day for so many reasons but I am not a person. I look at pictures and cry and try to figure out when the mental illness started. When I stopped being real and started being a mental case. When I stopped being all the colors and became black and white. When I just because borderline. When I became all about me. The narcissist that hates looking in mirrors. The one that understands why her friends hung themselves or took too many pills. The one that feels guilty for their grandmother dying or their babies making their way to heaven. The one that just wishes they could start over where no one knew their name.
But there are crises at home that are too big to bear. The one roll of toilet paper for 4 people that has to last at least a week. The lack of money for medication. The lingering eviction notice and nowhere to go. The fact that if Trip finds out any of this, then I am screwed because maybe just maybe he will take the one this that is keeping me grounded away from me again. A year ago I was happy, well a year and 6 months. I was 150lbs lighter. I looked amazing and I smiled. I was alive, I felt good I had a 3.0GPA. Now I can barely move, I am sick all the time. I can’t afford my medicine and I hide how poor we really are from my kids. There are no movies and no friends allowed at the house because I can’t afford to feed them. Welfare moms have nothing on me. They show up and they are fine and I am not. They have phones and I don’t. I have nothing.
I no longer know how to be a person.
Dear Mister President,
I know you will never see this. I am a nameless, faceless blogger. But I voted for you. In fact you were the first president I EVER voted for. I believe in what you said, in the fact that YOU believe in HOPE for the future. I strongly HOPE for the future. But I am having a hard time believing in the now. Let me tell you a little about me.
I am a single Mom of two wonderful kids. I was diagnosed at 9 with Graves’ disease, at 17 with ITP, told I couldn’t have kid and then at 22 I got pregnant with my first son. At that point I had gone to vocational school but not college because I didn’t know how and couldn’t afford it. I was still on my Dad’s insurance but he never paid so I was put into debt. I was forcibly married at 22 to my children’s father because he was in the military and I needed the insurance for the baby and me. I gave birth the next March. The relationship left something to be desired, it was abusive and miserable. He was an alcoholic and I was an undiagnosed bipolar. I miscarried our next child whom I lovingly named Hope. Then got pregnant again with our daughter and my husband left us, got discharged from the Navy and moved across country. I worked my butt off, lived in a single room with my son in my Mother’s overpriced apartment till I gave birth to my gorgeous daughter. I went to FMLA leave and decided I couldn’t stay in NYC. I moved to PA, went after my ex for child support, got cash assistance until then and food stamps. Going to that welfare office was a major point in my life. I had to swallow my pride, but I was determined to make it work.
My son got diagnosed Autistic. We then lost our house, our food stamps and our cash as we had to move to NJ. Right after my son turned 3 and right before my daughter turned 1 we lost all of our belongings in a flood. I moved back in with my mother. We had no insurance, no food stamps no nothing. New York City was in hard times and it was hard to get anything without having lived there for months on end. I needed a new beginning. I ended up in Lancaster PA. I worked a long while, I went back on welfare. My ex began giving me child support again and we all had insurance. It was a wonderful thing. I had managed to survive. We had food in our bellies, we had dental and optical, my son had the help he needed. And then things took a turn….
I had a breakdown, after abuse at work I was diagnosed bipolar with borderline personality disorder with narcissistic tendencies. I was not allowed to work. But the kids could not attend daycare. It was against the rules. I fought it, I made a video about the horrors of the place I used to work. No one did anything. I went all the way up the political chain and nothing was done.
It took two years for my disability to kick in. But the kids didn’t know we were poor. We still were able to see the doctor and had a roof and food…Now we are in the present. We live in a house that is not up to code, my landlord is about to kick us out. He said he wants to redo the house and sell it but I know that is a lie because my downstairs neighbor didn’t know about it. He bumped the rent in September knowing I couldn’t pay. I make seven hundred and thirty dollars a month in disability. And another six hundred and eleven if my ex decides to pay his child support but there is never a direct day that will come through. My house is falling apart. I can’t run too many Air Conditioners in the summer or the fuse will blow. And since I don’t have access to the fuse box (i’s in the basement where my neighbor lives) I can’t use it. In the winters I don’t have access to the heat and this year it was o cold I had to pull the kids into bed with me and all my land lord said was well maybe you should just buy a space heater, what do you want from me?
My insurance went from covering everything to dropping my dental and optical. So now I have teeth falling out and infected and nowhere that will save them without a fight. I need ne glasses but I can’t find an eye doctor. I have 4 auto immune diseases that my general practitioner has to take care of. I fight every day for my son’s medications so he can sleep.
They just cut my food stamp money by fifty dollars because they said I made too much yet my income hasn’t changed and I had reported a pregnancy. I lost the baby soon afterwards. So who is looking after me? Why am I supposed to keep hoping? I have no money put aside for a new place and no way of telling the kids what is really happening. Do I pawn all of my great grandmother’s jewelry? Do I beg on the streets or go to one of those terrible sites and do things for money?
How do I save my hope when it seems so lost?
I believe in you Mister President. I believe in the freedoms of our country and of everything we stand for. But honestly who is going to believe in me?