I know I wrote something really positive yesterday about my reaction to life’s difficulties. today’s post is going to be very different, though. that’s the thing about me, I go from positive to negative polar opposites pretty quickly, but hey, not as rapidly as I used to.
I’m dealing with a lot of disappointment, disappointment that moving over here to Hollis, Queens from Jamaica is a downgrade in almost every conceivable way. it’s especially rough because I had my hopes up for an improvement in my quality of life, and I got the very opposite. to be fair, I had no way of knowig
maybe it was waking up to all of the common areas in the apartment being just filthy, my roommate doesn’t clean up after himself, honestly I don’t think he can. I have asked him not to leave rotting food all over the kitchen so many times, and I only moved here 4 days ago. it’s such a mess in the kitchen that I cant even make my own food, there’s no clean space to do it. I really hate how much space this guy is getting on my blog, but my blog is about my life and this is what’s causing me major stress and irritation.
it might also be that i’m very low on money, and stressing about running out of food, especially since the very same roommate ate a large portion of it. I know i’m repeating myself a lot, and for that i’m sorry.
I just wonder to myself, why does life have to be so hard? I don’t consider myself a bad person, I don’t think I deserve all of the abuse that life throws at me, and I’m not just talking about me as an individual, my whole immediate family has really gotten the shit kicked out of them by misfortune for a long time. my question is: what the fuck? you know, another version of the existential "why?”
It’s not pleasant to be feeling so sorry for myself, and it’s not a good look (I know), but that’s just where I’m at today. there is some more uplifting things I can say to save this mornings post from being a complete bummer, though.
in the past few years, probably starting around the first summer Covid-19, when I was in my first residential rehab program up in Harlem, I learned that I have to advocate for myself if anything about my life is going to have any improvement. the program wasn’t taking care of my psychiatric medication needs, and I was a mess because of it. I stood up for myself to get my needs met, and it worked. the only reason i’m not homeless right now, is because I had no issues with being a squeaky wheel to the people who were in the position to help me get supportive housing. As fucked up as my situation is right now, it beats sleeping on the sidewalk.
I have made numerous calls to my housing agency about how badly things are going over here in Hollis, I wrote an email so there’s a paper trail. and i’m going to go to anyone that can help me resolve this, i’m not going to go crazy by living with a crazy person again. that’s not going to happen, because I’m not going to let it. I can talk to a supervisor, I can talk to a supervisor’s supervisor, or I can find out which state agency deals with the neglect of the mentally ill people who cant preform the activities of daily living, there’s got to be one protecting that population.
let me just slow down…Cheryl, my housing case worker is returning to the office around 4pm, i’ll just start by talking to her. I may not need to go defcon five, the point is that I am more than capable, and more than willing.
oh man, I really need your help. I can’t lie, i’m literally beside myself with stress. i’m not saying that a few donations will solve everything, but it will relieve some of the mental pressure:
ko-fi.com/evr0ck17
For those who prefer to directly support my creative endeavors but aren’t comfortable with Ko-fi, I’ve created an Amazon wishlist! This way, you can help me get the tools I need to keep creating.
https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/38UI78GFY4ROR?ref_=wl_share
