I’m writing this to later post. It isn’t possible to post online at the moment, but I need to confide things. I asked Soul Bro to take me down to Social Services. I wanted to see if my social worker had news regarding my application for Special Assistance to Remain at Home. This program helps people with disabilities stay at home instead of being thrown into a ‘home.’ I can’t call my worker, because the phone was cut off. Soul Bro said, “yea-….if you have gas money.”

I replied that I could give him 5, maybe 8 dollars. At first he said OK, but then told me I could go to the apartment office and ask to use the phone. I didn’t wish to spark his ire, so I retreated from his room and made my way to the office.

I almost got there before turning back. I’m terrified of that coven that works inside the office. First, I haven’t made my $15.00 payment for the month on the balance I owe from my mother’s apartment. Second, I think The Partner tells bad things about me to them as to why they can’t pay the rent on time. Soul Bro told me that the office is allowing us extra time to cough up the $200.00 yet owed this month on the condition my roomies sign a paper stating that they won’t let me stay here again. The idea that a paper exists forbidding me to live here is wayyyyy too much enmity for me to dare going into that office. AND, according to Soul Bro, they said they wouldn’t even consider letting me have my own apartment here. To know management feels that way is enough to make me stay away. If it’s true. My nature is suspicious these days. I’m too scared to chance it. I guess I will hope if my social worker hasn’t heard from me in a while, she will come by to see if I’m alive.

Perhaps the Lord does work in mysterious ways, because my truest friends came by to check on me. I sent a message to my social worker through them. I wrote it all down, but Elsie is 89. Her ears and eyes work, just not all that great, so hopefully it will get where it’s supposed to go.

I hope what Soul Bro told me isn’t all true, but it likely is. They owe $200.00 in rent…and it’s my fault. Back in May and June, my social security check stopped coming because Window Licker Hall routed it  back to their den of meloncholy. The first month was their just due, even though it completely killed my bank account. Ghetto Bank, Inc., a branch located inside a friendly mega store near you, offers an overdraft protection that allows you to spend your next month’s check this month, with the nominal fee of $18.00 per transaction. It’s great and terrible all at the same time. Like those old check cashing places that used to be everywhere, you have to keep returning because your current month’s check is already spent.

At the end of June, however, Social Security sent my check here, and I spent some in taking us out to dinner, some on the rent, and some on my new netbook (Soul Bro gave me permission because he didn’t like me using his computer).

In July, yet another check didn’t come on time and they re-issued it to me. I believe that must have been when I tried to have their van’s air conditioner repaired for $100.00 –didn’t work. Maybe it was also the month The Partner found out he had skin cancer on his face, so I gave him $60.00 for them to go and have some time.

In the end, I still hadn’t paid back the $300ish I owed from the late months, but Soul Bro hadn’t asked and anytime he needed money and I had some I gave it. They paid for food, I’d sometimes pay for food, etc.  I guess I felt I was giving the money back by how I tried to help when I could. Then voila! I owe them 700.00 (that’s with this month’s rent included. I am also to pay $100 a month after I  leave, for all the expenses they’ve been out on me: The food I ate with them that they paid for, taking me places, household supplies, weed, cat litter, and cat food.

 

Later that evening, The Partner allowed me to use his phone, so I decided to call my nurse. Let’s say her name is Florence N. Florence answered, though it was 8pm and a strange number. That’s when I told her how my social worker appointment went. They’re still wondering if I can live on my own, and if I do become homeless or in a shelter, or in a hotel, or in a ‘home,’ I will lose my chance to get special assistance. My nurse reassured me she thought I could live alone with a bit of help, and would tell the social worker so. I’m worried about what my doctor will say. I hate that all my chances are hanging by a thread. I told her about the payee the social workers insisted I have, and that’s the first time my roomies heard about it.  I was too afraid to tell Soul Bro, “Um remember how upset my social worker was when I told her I’d had to pay back my mom’s final expenses out of my first special assistance check, and how I became convinced you were mad at me forever, and I had a crush on you, and my mom was still dead, and I tried to overdose on Ativan? Yeah well, they ain’t forgot and they’re going to make me even have to turn my damn social security over to a payee to be eligible. Sorry about all that. Have a nice day, now.”

So my roomies heard that I had to have a payee through my conversation with Florence N., but I wanted Soul Bro to, because my conscience is killing me for not telling him. I was afraid he’d be mad and worried he wouldn’t get his money ( I think he really does need money).

Mad? I do believe he is quite angry. Maybe he feels duped and that I’m a horrible user. I deserve it, but I can’t really say much. If I nobly turned down the special assistance I’d have to find something with my check of $698.00 or go to a place. I’d probably still be thrown out of my apartment either way, because I’m a total pig and my roomies tire of me.  

The day the roommates announced they were going to throw me out, they said a lot about me. Soul Bro said I was dirtier than any woman he ever knew ( I bathe every 2 to 3 days because who have I got to impress , it takes maybe an hour and a half to perform my bathing rituals, I deodorize myself, and I seldom leave the house any damn way to get dirty), that I never vacuumed, and only did stuff when asked except for cleaning the kitchen every night and washing dishes. That even if I did start cleaning up the place, I’d only just break stuff. All this hurt, and if you don’t think I’m not mortified and embarrassed at admitting all this, you’d be wrong.

But what The Partner said hit the hardest. “You alienate anyone who’s ever tried to help you.”

Let’s see if this is true:

My relatives disowned me ( but I think, I hope, it’s because they disowned my mother first)

Then a friend I had for 14 years got angry at me for asking if I could stay with her when I was in the hospital –I asked before when my mom died, but now she was pissed at me begging. It wasn’t that she didn’t let me, it’s  because she was a total bitch about it and we only spoke once or twice since. I still like her, but …

My best friend of 17 years: The night she stayed with me in the emergency room until I was admitted was the last time I saw her, and only spoke to her one time afterward. I think I was just too much to handle when she was having a really rough time in life herself. I will try to repair things when I am out of here. God only knows what all Soul Bro said to her to get her to come get me. He may have bullied her into it. I remember how kind she was to me in the ER staying with me until I was admitted into the hospital at 4am.

Soul Bro and his partner, The Partner: Soul Bro was and is my life. He loved me so much before I tried to kill myself. He may have thought I was just trying to get high or attention. He may have thought I was the biggest ingrate ever. Plus, I used to make fun of The Partner when I thought he wasn’t around, but Soul Bro egged me on in a way by telling me both truths and tales.

I only know one thing. I want to be alone where I can’t bother, burden, or break anything.  Soul Bro isn’t even talking to me now. It hurts so much and I’ve got to get away.

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