Category Archives: Complaint Department

A place for aimless ranting

Allergies and anxiety

29 Friday May 2015

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The cabin fever of winter has passed, but now I find myself sticking close to home for entirely new reasons. I seem to have moved into a town that is allergy central. Who knew? And to think I had been doing so well the last few years when I had lived in the big city. I should have realized with all these beautiful trees, and nice scenery comes lots and lots of pollen that is currently rearing its ugly head with me as we speak. Thor also apparently caught his first preschool related virus, without even leaving home. (which of course he has since passed on to me) He now has in-home head start three days a week, and thankfully he seems to enjoy it, even though he has warmed up to some of his 3 teachers, more than the others.

Thor especially seems to have developed quite an affection for “Miss Gena” the teacher that normally comes here on Monday mornings. Tuesdays he has speech lessons with “Miss Carrie”, and Thursdays he has regular in home preschool, but this time with “Miss Christie.” While Miss Gena has been very consistent with him since the beginning, Carrie and Christie are still relatively new to him, having only just replaced other teachers that had relocated and/or moved to different jobs. It does take Thor a little time to warm up to people. Even Gena had to wait several visits before he came out of his shell with her. I guess it would be hard for any kid to do well when the people teaching them are constantly coming and going. I’m hoping that this set of teachers will decide to stick it out, at least until he gets old enough to go to a regular head start class in the fall.

I still have a great deal of worry over the fact that his speech seems rather behind where it should be at his age. Gena has assured me time and again that, even though Thor doesn’t use words much, he is very bright for his age. I guess that’s what makes this whole speech delay all the more puzzling. Outside of his problems with speech, he’s already learning his colors, and can even do 24 pieces jigsaw puzzles by himself. He can’t say the names of most animals, but he does know them by the sounds they make. Owl and bird seem to be the exception to this rule at the moment. Kitties are “meow” and so forth. He now knows the difference between cats and dogs even if he doesn’t quite have a word or sound for dog yet.

This latest development came when we recently rescued an elderly female dachshund.Her owner had apparently been an elderly woman who lived alone, but very suddenly ended up in a rest home, unable to care for her. With the local humane society temporarily shuttered, this poor hound was pound bound. She is such a sweet dog, and so good with Thor and our cats that I couldn’t see letting her wind up somewhere she would probably have only quickly been put to sleep. At 11 years old she is quite healthy and active for a dog this age, but most shelters would have considered her too old to be adoptable.

Not all our animal adventures lately have been as fun. A bat decided to pay our house a visit a couple of weeks ago, and I must admit, I hid under a blanket and screamed like a girl while my husband and a nice police officer helped it back outside. No one is worse for the wear Thankfully it happened early enough in the evening that we were awake. It was pouring down rain that evening, so all we can figure is that the rain may have chased it inside when we went to let the dog out. We haven’t been able to find any other way it might have gotten in. Hopefully this will be an extremely isolated incident and not repeat itself. I hate bats. I can deal with them outdoors, but I want them to stay far far away from my house…please and thank you.

It’s just been another thing on top of everything else that’s had my nerves wound tight lately. My family has been fighting like cats and dogs since my grandmother passed away in February. It’s stressing me to the point I’ve had to go low contact for awhile with both sides. I can’t take all this bickering and fighting anymore. I just want to be happy, and as much as I’d like to have a couple of small things of hers to remember my grandmother by, putting myself in the middle of this to get it just doesn’t seem worth it. I am trying to do just what I know that she would tell me to do. I will love them all, but I don’t have to agree with them, or do what they do.

I’ve begun to wonder when life will not be such a roller coaster ride. I would love to be able to enjoy the beginning of summer and do all those other fun things I read about other families doing on facebook, or all those shiny parenting blogs I am always coming across. The shambles my life is, and how broke we are really only makes me feel like more of a failure sometimes.

Life is very lonely with no friends, or even family nearby, not that my family would be much if any comfort presently. (close and supportive they are not, nor have they ever been) Now that my grandmother is gone, I am feeling really lost. Honestly I don’t think I have ever in my life felt so alone. It’s especially hard that I didn’t get to say goodbye. My own family was too busy going at each other to make sure I could make it to the funeral. (the fighting has since only gotten worse…not that they have ever not been fighting my entire life)

I just want to be happy, I  want to get well from whatever bug preschool has drug in and do something, anything fun for a change. I want to have a fun summer the way that I used to. It doesn’t take expensive vacations, or even a non-existent beach or swimming pool. I miss having friends to hang around and do nothing with. I miss having places to go to just goof off for awhile and talk with people. It’s hard when you are barely making ends meet to even go out for a cup of coffee, much less think of other places people might be in walking distance of here. Going further than that takes a lot of time and quite a bit of planning here. You have no idea how I dream of being able to afford a car again, especially since moving here. Sadly our tv is broken, and there are a million other things that are even a higher priority for now when it comes to money and making sure the bills are paid. Hanging in here, don’t know how to do it any different.

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Time flies

07 Sunday Dec 2014

Posted by in Complaint Department, Daily Drivel, Evil Wizard, Faith, Holiday Thoughts, In Hindsight, On the news, Rants, Taterbug, Winnifrog

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Here it is December again, and a lot has been happening since I haven’t been tap-taping away at the keys. Some of it has been good, and some bad, but at least I can say that life lately is a bit different than the last time I wrote on this here blog.

My mother in law had a serious fall and has been in and out of the hospital yet again, and is presently in a rehabilitation nursing home trying to get back her strength so she can hopefully be home by Christmas. Thankfully nothing was broken, but no one knows what has been causing these weak spells she has been having. They seem to come on quickly, only to resolve themselves before anyone can find a cause. I really wish she would come and stay with us, but mom is stubborn and doesn’t want to leave her home, much less Indiana. If that news were not enough, we also found out the cancer my husband’s aunt had a few years ago has returned, and unfortunately it seems to be already at stage 4, and the doctors are unsure how much they will be able to do to help her. John seems to be taking that bit of news about as well as can be expected for now.

As overwhelming as the hard news lately has been, the good news is that the closing finally happened on the new house, even if moving cost way, way more than we had ever anticipated that it would. In fact, the movers ended up charging us around five hundred dollars more than their original estimate, so needless to say, the last couple of months have been kind of lean around here budget wise while we try to gather the things we will need for the new house. I guess I can’t expect miracles in that department overnight.

Christmas looks to be equally lean this year. I was able to get all of the kids at least a little something, but probably nothing like I know kids are usually hoping for. I hope my older kids will be happy with clothes, paperback books and homemade necklaces. Thor seems to be the easy one to shop for, board books and a see n say, and a little toy truck. I also picked up a used toddler bed for him to use whenever we have the money to get his room finished enough for him to move into.

Thor’s room was one of our not so nice surprises after we moved in here. Not only had someone started ripping the wallpaper down and didn’t bother finishing it, but sometime between the inspection on the house and the closing they had also taken the time to remove the light fixture in that bedroom, and so now we have to buy a new one and find someone to help us install it. We have the light fixture we want spotted, and know what color we are eventually going to paint the room once the work is done, getting it finished is mostly a matter of having the money to purchase the materials and help we will need to make it happen. Unfortunately those things just don’t come cheap nowadays.


I know we have many plans for what we would like to do with the new house in the coming months, but we know much of what we would like to do cannot happen overnight. All we can do is make a list of what we would like to have done, and try to figure out which things are a priority, and which of them would just be something that would eventually be nice to have. For the moment the first thing on the list is to get that light fixture replaced, and to get Thor’s room finished so the hubby and I can finally have some much needed privacy and more room to do our own room the way we would eventually like it to be.

For now the plan for Thor’s room is to paint it a nice pretty Tardis blue to begin with. Eventually when time and money allows the hubby will be painting murals of a nighttime forest with owls in the trees on his bedroom walls. The ceiling eventually will also have glow in the dark stars. Eventually… I’d just be happy getting his room painted and done enough for him to actually move into before spring. It’s all just a matter of too many plans and not enough money to do it all right now.

For now, even a month after moving in, we are still unpacking slowly but surely, and trying to get the house the way we want it to be. We are also slowly but surely trying to learn our way around this new town, and where to find the things we need. Not knowing anyone is really the hardest part of moving somewhere new. I am hoping that once the weather warms up a little and we get settled in, that we will be able to go out and meet some new people. So far the neighbors seem nice, but just like most places nowadays, most people pretty much seem to keep to themselves. Maybe it’s just me, but it doesn’t seem to be nearly as easy to get to know anyone these days, maybe myself included. It doesn’t help that I’m rather shy around people I don’t know well, and I can tend to be quite a homebody.

For now we would like to wish you Blessed Holidays from our tiny town in middle of nowhere in Northwestern Pennsylvania. As for myself I will be trying to stay warm, and ride out the winter without turning into a mommysicile.

December has always been a hard time for me these last few years. Today marks the 3 year anniversary of the day my dad passed away, and two years since I lost my lifelong friend Sandy. It’s hard not to curl up and have a good cry, but I know that’s not what either of them would have wanted. Maybe it’s ok to be sad, as long as I don’t forget all the good that is still here. Some days that is easier said than done.

Emotional Rollercoaster

23 Monday Jun 2014

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Life has surely had its ups and downs the last couple of months here. We’ve jumped through so many hoops, sometimes I wonder how much more jumping I have left in me. Being this stressed is exhausting. It’s easy for others to tell you not to worry, when they really have no idea what you are going through. Sometimes I wish people would do a little less telling me not to worry, and just ask me what it is they can do to help. Life would be so much easier.

We are still looking for a new place to live, and for a short while, we thought we had found what seemed the near-perfect place for us. It was a nice house in a very small town an hour to the north of where we live now. John’s mom was going to help us get the down payment to be able to buy it, and I thought things were finally looking up.

That was until, lo and behold, and out of state buyer swooped in at the last moment, and outbid our offer by several thousand dollars.

Needless to say I was crushed and still am. Now I guess it is back to the drawing board. The realtor says she has more homes she can show us, but in our price range, the selection is kind of limited. Part of me is almost afraid to get my hopes up, but I want us to have a nice home of our own so badly. Rents are way out of league around here, buying seems like our only option if we have a prayer of affording anything. Rent on a comparable house would be four times as much as the mortgage payment would be, at the very least.

I just want a stable place to call home. I want somewhere for Thor to grow up, and not worry him over having to move every few years. I want to be able to paint walls a color that isn’t white or beige, and hang as many pictures as I darn well please. Now that my older kids are grown, in a few years I want something their kids will be able to call grandma and grandpa’s house, somewhere they can run back and forth in and jump up and down on the floor in without driving the downstairs neighbors insane.

Maybe it’s all just too much to ask for, but I have to keep trying. Hopefully when next week comes, there will be better news.

Meanwhile the little guy is growing like a weed and into everything. He keeps me smiling even when it seems like the job of trying to keep up with him never ends. He is almost frighteningly smart nowadays. He already knows how to do basic things not only on our cell phone, but also on the computer. He can open iTunes and play his favorite music, which I think he recognizes by the album cover pictures. He also already uses about a dozen different words , with some of his most consistent ones being: up, spoon, hi, no, and of course the word, owl. He still can’t seem to get enough of owls, which have been his favorite animal since he was only a few weeks old, but which are now having to share a special place in his heart with cats, especially his now much beloved stuffed cat named Tygie.

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Tygie is the first toy that I can say, Thor picked out all by himself. He takes him almost anywhere and everywhere now, at least around the house. We try to make sure he leaves him at home when we have somewhere to go, because we are a little afraid of the cat getting lost. Thor would be devastated if that happened. He won’t go to sleep at nap time or at bedtime without him.

As you can see, orange cats are by far his favorite, I think because they look like our real live cats. The kitty here in the photo with Tygie is our oldest cat, who unfortunately came to us already with the name Boobies. He is quite an old man now, at 19 years old, and is very well loved, if slightly afraid of our son when he’s being noisy and moving too quickly near him. Thankfully Thor is getting much better about being gentle with the cats, and doesn’t pull tails nearly as often as he used to.

I am unsure what else to write about at this time. It’s hard to write, let alone be creative when your mind seems so busy with every day worries that seem so overwhelming. Writing used to be an escape, but nowadays it seems impossible when life seems this overwhelming. I am hoping to some day soon to at least have something good to write about here, instead of all this seemingly endless venting of the day’s issues.

Even if it is with much ranting and complaining, I always seem to keep moving, somehow…

 

 

I’m back, some assembly required…

12 Saturday Apr 2014

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The last few weeks have been scary and stressful around here. It’s kind of a long story, so I’ll try to condense it as much as I possibly can.

I haven’t been feeling well on and off for at least the last couple of years. I had almost no appetite, had on and off bouts of horrible back pain among other issues. A few times the pain had gotten so bad I had sought help at the local emergency room. Needless to say the doctors blew me off, and even treated me like someone trolling for pain pills. They did no testing, gave me a dose of Tylenol and sent me home, repeatedly.

Last month I predictably came down with another bout of pain, this one even worse than before. Again I went to the ER to try and get help, and I expected the whole lather, rinse, repeat. Luckily for me, instead of the regular ER doctor on call I ended up with a very lovely young intern who actually not only examined me properly, she asked me questions. The first one being…Do you still have your gallbladder?

One ultrasound later, it was confirmed that I had gallstones, likely the cause of a lot of my health issues for the last few years…

A couple of days and one more ER trip later I was referred to a surgeon, and put on a 6 week waiting list for surgery to have my gallbladder removed, or so we thought….

I made it not even a week without another couple of ER trips before the surgeon on call decided to admit me and get it over with. The next day they informed me that it was a good thing they’ gotten to me when they did, or it probably wouldn’t have been long before I’d have suffered not only liver issues, but my gallbladder may have burst.

The moral of the story?

Trust your gut if you really feel that something is wrong. If your doctor won’t listen, find one who will, even if they are only running the tests to humor  you. It upsets me that I was in pain needlessly for I know at least well over a year.

Sure surgery is scary, but I woke up in less pain after than before, and am thankful that someone finally listened to me, and took the time to find what the cause of my pain and illness really was. In my case it took a different doctor and a different hospital. Don’t be afraid to make waves, and be the figurative squeaky wheel that needs greasing.

The life you save may be your own.

Hope and fear

14 Tuesday Jan 2014

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Optimism is hard for me, the last few years especially, when it comes to dealing with the ongoing situation with my daughter. I’ve wanted nothing more than to have her home, and I make sure I tell her frequently. Unfortunately every time I thought there was a ghost of a chance of it actually happening, I’ve pretty much had my hopes dashed to pieces.

There is another hearing coming up next week. I feel an obligation to be there, but part of me is also nearly paralyzed by knowing that my efforts would be all but futile. Deep inside I know that the outcome would be the same in my presence or without it. It’s as much my own state of mind that I am worried for. Should I go and go through the motions and attend a hearing that has already all but been decided, or should I just stay away and let them do the inevitable without me?

Is there hope of this ending any other way?

Should I really be spending a couple of hundred dollars we don’t really have right now for bus tickets and hotel rooms, when I know almost for sure that I will be coming back home alone with nothing to show for it but depression it may take weeks to shake myself out of?

Would I be a horrible person and mother if I just threw my hands up in the air and told them all that I just can’t do this?

Is it time to let my daughter go, and hope she will be happy with whatever life they can help her build for herself? All I can do is keep reminding her that my door is always open, and she always has a place here, even if the decisions on her future are out of my hands.

Damn this is hard…

It’s *bleeping* cold outside!

08 Wednesday Jan 2014

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This is the second day here with below 0 temperatures. Needless to say we haven’t left the house. (except for when John took the trash out to the curb, just in case by some miracle they do decide to collect it in the morning) It is a little boring here with not much to do but the internet, and frustrating dealing with a stir crazy baby who very badly wants his daily bye bye, and doesn’t understand why he can’t have it.

I’m also frustrated with not being able to work on my novel. It isn’t a matter of lacking ideas this time, but more just not having quiet time to work on it before I’m too exhausted at night to think clearly. My computer unfortunately sits in the middle of the living room in front of the fireplace mantel, the only place in the whole apartment there was room to put it. It’s good that I have a desk, and a computer, but it makes it extremely difficult to work without distraction when I am stuck out here right in the middle of it all.

Before I would always write when my daughter was in school, and my desk was usually set up in my bedroom, or off in a quiet room away from the main room. I don’t work well with noise or with people moving around nearby, and especially don’t work well with people peering over my shoulder.

I miss having a laptop to work on, at least then I’d have the possibility of going in my room and shutting the door for awhile, even if trying to work from bed hurts my back something awful after awhile. Then again, I know what would happen. I’d get settled in, and finally be making progress, and BAM…they’d just follow me in there.

Sometimes I wonder how I am going to hold on until spring. Our search for a new apartment is still going dismally. Even applying anywhere is expensive, and we recently lost $120 in application fees only to be turned down yet again, even with my mother in law willing to co-sign.

Staying positive is really hard right now. It’s especially hard when you can’t even get something basic like an affordable place for your family to live. I worry about even the rent here going up to more than we can afford even with the roommate. My nerves are wound so tight I’m barely sleeping sometimes, and when I do I’m getting a lot of nightmares. I haven’t been able to eat properly in months now for a lot of the same reasons.

I wish I had a way of knowing that it would all be alright, but I don’t. I’m doing what I can but no one is going to beat a path to our door to help us. It’s no wonder that so many disabled people end up on the streets. If you are under 62 years old, there is no help with housing available, period, end of story. If the waiting list for help isn’t closed, it is over 10 years long.

It’s hard to write here without complaining, mainly because this is the only place in the world I have to vent.

I can’t wave a magic wand and make myself well, or John not deaf anymore, so what hope is there of our situation getting better short of a miracle? I wish I knew, I really wish I knew.

Thinking Turkey Thoughts

28 Thursday Nov 2013

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Holidays aren’t easy for me. I know that statement will be hard to explain to some people. Life hasn’t been easy for a long time, years now, even decades. I was a child the last time I really have good memories to look back on, even related to holidays.

I know some people joke about wondering how long it will take during the holidays for the police to be called, but in my family it’s a distinct possibility. The last time I remember spending Christmas with my family two fights broke out, and that was just christmas eve. I haven’t eaten a thanksgiving dinner I haven’t cooked myself in so many years that I can’t even remember when the last one I ate with my family was. I do however remember it was horrible and not much worth writing about food wise.

Being just me and my oldest daughter for years on the holidays, I never did the whole big turkey and all that, not that I ever could have afforded to anyway. Usually Thanksgiving for us meant pork chops and stuffing with mashed potatoes at home, and eating in front of the tv still in our pajamas. It was always just the two of us, or at least on most years.

Last year I think I made a half-effort at making a little bit of turkey, but not a whole one. It came out mostly ok, even if the veggies ended up a shriveled mess and not exactly edible. Cue this year’s second attempt, which I will be trying in a crock pot instead of the oven, because the oven will be occupied by my roommate’s god awful tofurkey. Just the thought of tofurkey makes me shudder with revulsion.

Holidays are hard, and the funk they leave me in is hard to shake myself from. All I usually end up thinking of is how much I envy people with close and loving families, and how I’d give almost anything to be part of a family like that. Yes, I have a husband and kids, and memories to build there, but thinking of the past and the mess that is the rest of my family, still hurts to no end, and probably always will. I see how it is even affecting my kids now and it upsets me so badly I could scream. Three generations of this family have been completely ruined by all this dysfunction and drama my mother and aunt just can’t seem to bury the hatchet over.

I really hope someone brings my grandmother dinner tomorrow, I would if I had a car, and weren’t so far away. I hate the thought of her sitting in that house all alone, especially with this being the first Thanksgiving that my grandfather has been gone. I worry a lot for her now, but there’s only so much I can do living an entire state away. The rest of the family is too busy not speaking to one another to really care I think, as they have been every year for who knows how long. All I can do is call grandma tomorrow, and at least let her know she hasn’t been forgotten.

Turkey is all well and good, but what I’d really love to have someday is a family that acts like a family, at least long enough to make it through dinner.

Am I wrong to just keep wishing?

 

Swamped

27 Wednesday Nov 2013

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Another November and I don’t feel that I’ve gotten much accomplished, or at least not the things I had hoped to. The writing hasn’t been going so well, mostly because the demands of taking care of Thor, are just, well, demanding.

Right after his first birthday, any semblance of a sleep schedule we seemed to have Thor into went right out the window. Most nights now we are lucky to have him to sleep by 10 now instead of 8. Last night Thor was awake until midnight. For some odd unknown reason, however, when he falls asleep seems to have little to no effect on what time he wakes up in the morning.

Truth be told, by the time it’s quiet enough for me to get anything accomplished now that I am stuck at a desk in the living room, it is too late in the evening, and I am far too tired to write coherently. At least if my laptop were still working properly I could go back and hide in the bedroom at fleeting moments during the day. It’s annoying to be stuck here at this desk, especially when it’s out here in the middle of everything where it’s noisy and nearly impossible to avoid serious distractions.

I have suddenly remembered why I am really, really, not a desktop person.

Maybe someday soon I will be able to afford to get the laptop fixed, and use it strictly as a writing only computer. Thankfully all it needs seems to be a new cooling fan. The part won’t cost much, but the installation might be a bit pricier than I can afford to spring for right now.

I’d love to have a nice recliner to kick back in while I work on this novel, and not this half broken desk chair that is killing both my hind end and my back, sadly I have no such thing, just an old granny sofa that sits too far away from the screen for me to see to tell what I am typing from there, even if the new keyboard is wireless.

The rest of life outside of writing still has me feeling as if I am running in circles and getting nowhere, especially as it pertains to our housing situation. It seems we still keep hitting brick walls with almost anything we have tried, either financially, or just with finding anything in our price range in general.

I want to be in a place of our own so badly. I don’t think even John understands just how much stress still being here is putting me under. I want a home or apartment of my own so I can at least somewhat have control back over my own life. I don’t want to have to consult anyone about my choices. I am beyond sick and tired of feeling as if I am walking on eggshells trying to appease someone, who seems to live in a way directly opposed to my values just to spite me.

I was an independent and introverted person even before I came here, and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. As much as I enjoy the company of people when I want to be around them, I am not a people person by any stretch of the imagination. I want to be around people when I want to be around them, at least outside of close loved ones. Having someone I don’t want to be living with in my face, every day, day in, and day out is a nightmare for me.

Life is stressful enough, and home is supposed to be your shelter from that. What happens when it isn’t? What do you do when home is sometimes feeling like the last place you want you or your family to be?

The smallest always lose the most

03 Thursday Oct 2013

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I have a lot of worries on my mind the last couple of days, but also a lot of frustration and anger, when it comes to the current state of American politics. I could give two hoots less about the national parks, or the fact that Joe office worker with a nice cushy government job might get a few days or weeks of staying at home and twiddling his thumbs. What has me angry, scared and ready to pull my hair out for their astounding sheer idiocy the most?

The government shutdown is shutting down the WIC program. Talk about hitting our most vulnerable citizens where it hurts the most.

For those of you unfamiliar with WIC let me summarize: Wic is a federally funded program that provides infant formula and basic nutritious foods to low income children age 5 and under, and expectant mothers. Unlike food stamps, only approved foods in set amounts can be purchased with WIC vouchers. Not all people who receive WIC get food stamps, as the income guidelines to qualify are very different. The help WIC provides can make a tremendous difference to struggling families. Unlike foods provided by food pantries, the foods WIC provides are perishable staple foods such as infant formula, baby food (fruits and veggies)cows milk, cheese, cereal, eggs, juice and a small amount of fresh vegetables every month.

The children WIC provides help to are too small to qualify for free school lunches, and do not have that option. Food pantries usually do not stock infant formula, because the WIC program is usually able to provide it. If the shutdown goes on, older children will be able to adapt much easier than infants, who depend on formula and are not old enough to be table fed exclusively. In the present situation infants will be the most vulnerable citizens of all, when there is absolutely no reason it should come to this.

It frustrates me how the news media is decrying the closure of the national parks more than this valuable and life changing program being stripped of its funding. Bears will crap in the woods whether a few tourists are there to watch them or not, and the memorials will be there when the crisis is over.

I hope that those of you who have the means to, would consider donating some infant formula to food banks and other charities that feed the hungry right here at home, where we need it the most at this time, until the idiocy in Washington resolves itself. Many families are presently hanging by the thread trying to stay above water, and provide for their children, and programs like WIC make all the difference. I should know, my family is one of them.

Kids are going hungry right here in this country…

Kids go to bed every night that way more than you think…

As a nation, we should be ashamed of that!

Hope and the pessimist

18 Wednesday Sep 2013

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I know I’ve talked a lot here the last couple of years about our housing situation, and why it is driving me crazy. We’ve been stuck here in this apartment for the last two years now, living with my husband’s ex-girlfriend for a roommate no less. Our apartment search this entire time has been one huge disappointment after another. We are being priced right out of even thinking of getting our own apartment, even in a not so great neighborhood.

There isn’t as much of a safety net for the disabled as a lot of people seem to think there is in this country now. Waiting lists for public housing are over a decade long if they are open at all, and most low income housing that exists, is set aside specifically for the elderly. My husband and I will not qualify to live in one of those places for quite some time yet.

The fact remains that the so called “fair market” rate for a two bedroom apartment is over 900 a month in this area. This is more than my entire income, and not much less than what my husband and I make combined. Think about it, that’s just rent, not heating the place, or keeping the lights on. It’s amazing how some people have the impression that the disabled are living so high on the hog, when we can’t even afford even a small apartment of our own to live in.

The worst part about looking for an apartment here are what places like to call “application fees.” Most housing in this area is owned by out of town investment companies, who hire locals to “manage” the properties for them. Most of these companies not only charge high rents, but want upwards of $150 dollars per adult in the household just to apply to live there, this fee is non-refundable if they reject your application. They also want the last 6 months worth of pay stubs, to see your tax returns for the last 3 years, a credit check and a federal background check just to be considered. Even if we don’t have to worry about our credit or income…who can really afford all those fees?

My husband thinks the reason he’s seen so many apartments listed for so long, is because these landlords are making more money not renting the place, and just rejecting people’s applications than they would actually renting the apartment. I mean think about it, if you get 10 applicants a week at $150 a pop,for an apartment that rents for 800, you’ve come out further ahead to let the place sit empty don’t you think?

Someone recently told us getting a mortgage right now is actually easier than getting an apartment because of that, so we have decided to try it. A mortgage does seem to be very much cheaper than rents here, our monthly payments would be only about a third of what it would cost to rent a comparable house in the same kind of neighborhood. The question is, can two disabled people even get a mortgage? Are they going to look at our meager income and not even give us the time of day?

All I know is I really don’t want to spend another year here, walking on eggshells in my own home, dealing with someone who’s not only his ex, but someone who’s mere outlook on everything from politics to family values, happens to be nearly polar opposite to my own. I don’t want to deal with someone who refuses to budge an inch on letting us have the third bedroom, when we pay 2/3 of everything here. My son having his own room will soon be more important than her having her “office” and a place to store all that extra junk she can’t squeeze into her already packed tight bedroom. I can’t stand the fact that she thinks it’s okay to smoke in here, when there’s a baby in the house, and she thinks it’s good enough that she just shuts her bedroom door. The smoke still travels, I can still smell it. We have an outside balcony for that, for pete’s sake, it won’t kill her to use it.

I want to be hopeful here, but it’s hard. Life right now just seems like a lot of jumping through one hoop after another, just to get further behind than when we began. When being here is so hard that I wan’t to pack my son up sometimes and move back where I came from, where things are awful but at least affordable, there is a problem.

All I know is that at least if nothing else, but for my peace of mind, by the end of the year, I want to be far away from here. I don’t care if we are in our own home having bought a place, or we have picked up and moved somewhere entirely new. I can’t take another year of the same old situation, and the same old worries. Something has to change for anything to get better, it has to.