Once again, I’m awake at a time when I should be asleep for at least 3 more hours. I woke up in pain, thanks to the “torture device” (metal frame single bed with a mattress so firm that it feels like I’m sleeping on the floor).
I went on an online spending spree yesterday, mostly for stuff that I need. I bought a cheap printer, a pair of Bluetooth earphones, a pair of boots, a fanny pack, clothes I probably don’t need and a queen-sized airbed., The boots are necessary because winter is approaching and it snows here a lot and my existing pair of boot are a little worse for wear. The Bluetooth earphones are because I’m tired of this happening to me and I can’t afford to do any more damage to my phone. The reason I bought the fanny pack is that I walk a lot (or would like to walk a lot) and walking with a purse is a pain in the ass and I needed something smaller and more practical to carry my stuff. Lastly, it should be no surprise as to why I bought an airbed. I can’t sleep on the single bed anymore – not only is being single and sleeping on a single bed utterly fucking depressing, but I’m tired of being in pain and I’m tired (literally) of being so sleep-deprived.
I did (finally) manage to go out last night, but only to my local Wegmans supermarket. Because gets darker much earlier now, I figured I could leave an hour earlier than I usually do and catch the earlier bus. Big mistake – the bus was packed and the supermarket was much busier than I’m accustomed to. It took me considerably longer to shop, because I kept having to dodge and avoid people that were in my way and making me feel extremely uncomfortable. Even though I had the bus stop to myself on the way back, the bus had a lot of loud people on board. I turned my music up to full volume and stared at the floor or towards the front to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Another reason I can’t sleep is that as much as I don’t like living here, I’m worried about being evicted. The property manager wants to see me at 9am about my rent arrears, which I didn’t know I had and only found out about on Thursday evening. Despite getting the money order on Friday, they didn’t answer my question when I asked if I was going to be ecivted. I am angry that no one told me, especially as I had to go back and forth with booth the property owner / landlord and the supportive housing program to try to determine 1) how much rent I’m supposed to pay and 2) when I’m supposed to start paying it from. Apparently, the member of staff that quit (good riddance) was supposed to tell me that I owed rent for August, but I guess our “falling out” in June was all too personal for her, so she decided not to tell me. I’m also angry that they have done NOTHING about the disruptive neighbor in the apartment below mine, despite him engaging in domestic violence an smoking marijuana on the premises (supposedly a place of recovery and a drug-free zone). It would be almost funny if they evicted me for having accidental rent arrears and giving me no warning, while that asshole gets to stay here and continue to make other people’s lives miserable. But hey, that’s life, right? It’ll be right in line with a lifetime of being punished more than most for every damn mistake and for being seen as high functioning, when I’m actually not.
If they do evict me, I think that will be the final straw. I really can’t take any more scares and bad experiences, especially not here. I don’t even want to live here anyway and I don’t think living alone is ever going to work out. Moving to the suburbs might help, but I won’t be able to avoid coming into the city and I’m still going to have to deal with the buses here and having no family, partner or friends (I seem to have pushed the only friend I had here away). I want to go back to the UK, but even thinking about the long and arduous journey there involving planes, airports and trains and subways scares the hell out of me. I made the journey here over a year ago, when I wasn’t as “damaged” as I am now. The only way I could do it is if I drugged myself up somehow, or drank a sufficient amount of alcohol to numb my anxiety, but not be noticeably drunk at the same time. The journey here last year was stressful enough, especially when I arrived in the US and was treated like a criminal by Customs & Border Protection officers because my permanent resident card at the time had an old picture of me and my old (male) name. I was detained for 2 hours and lost my AirBnB room as a result, which caused panic attack #1. Panic attack #2 was a result of being harassed and followed on the NYC subway.
But maybe the desire to leave and a little alcohol will be enough to allow me to endure that journey (in reverse) one last time. As much as I hate flying and airports, the Amtrak is always a pleasant and comfortable experience, despite being painfully slow and outdated, compared to rail in the UK and Europe. I could fly to o the UK from Boston rather than NYC, because Boston Logan is a much smaller and less busy / chaotic than JFK.
But I’m thinking way too far ahead, only because I have to wait another agonizing 5 hours before I have to meet with the property manager at 9am. I feel like I’ve done something so horribly wrong or maybe they’re using the (accidental) rent arrears as an excuse to get rid of me, because I complain too much or something. I’m just fed up with life throwing so many scares and bad experiences at me and I never seem to recover.