If you have followed me for the past 6-7 months, you already know our story. If you have not, I will give a simple break down.
We (the kids and I) hated the cities and wanted to come back home to #LadySuperior, but could not afford to buy a place of our own. I hatched a plan to save up and buy an R.V. and we would live out of that while I worked and saved and the kids would go to school.
Someone called CPS on me. For living in our R.V.
CPS made threats. Claiming that in "their opinion" I would not be able to keep the camper warm enough in winter months. And because of their opinion and not any actual law they instructed me to find housing immediately or they would take my children away.
Children who were thriving in their environment, BTW. They were clean, fed warm, dry, doing their homework, bed at a decent time, all that normal stuff.
This forced us into a homeless shelter. All security and safety and SANITATION lost. There was blood on the walls literally above my head.
It was 7 months of hell trying to keep my family, and our pets together and safe, surrounded by drugs and violence and filth. All at the hands of the souless person who called CPS.
CPS dropped the case without ever checking in on us, BTW.
We have been in our home since the end of February. Six months.
Still at this point every little thing terrifies me about potentially losing our home. For one thing, I cannot subject my children to the absolute HELL of that "shelter" again. For another, what if CPS finds out and comes slithering back?
I cannot drive anymore. While we were homeless I accidentally allowed my license to expire. And when a light went out on my camper I was pulled over. License revoked. Yay being too poor to pay to get it back! No license means I cannot renew the registration on the camper. The camper is gone. Nothing to fall back on. No going south to warmer climes where people mind their own damned business.
Twice in the last 6 months, I have paid rent late. Of course, there's that $30 late fee that just chafes at your soul.
But the real problem was the gut wrenching, all encompasing fear. Fear of calling the land lady to tell her I will be late. Fear of any harsh words she might utter. Fear of being evicted.
And when I say fear I don't mean like, "Oh that was scary! Time to move on!"
I mean like, hyperventilating, full on panic attack with extremely painful muscular contraction from over-ocidixation. I mean like, not sleeping for days at a time to avoid the nightmares. I mean constantly checking to see if the land lady's son is around so I can avoid talking with him type fear.
She mistakenly text me once. Accusing me of not cleaning the dog mess in the yard. I assured her the yard was 100% clear of debri and waited. Hands shaking in anxiety for her response. 17 minutes of agony.
She apologized, told me I am "A good tenant" and said she text the wrong person.
I have been agonizing over August. I have put in hours of overtime at work for August. School supplies for three children. New clothes for school for three children. Ella had blood in her stool. Vet visit costs. I had to buy a new phone.
So many expenses for August. But, I have just barely managed to make sure I have enough to pay September's rent on time. I have $6.34 for the next 2 weeks. But rent is taken care of.
My trio will have to wait a bit longer for the gym shoes the school wants each of them to have. But it's going to be okay. I made it through and August can kindly fuck off, thank you very much.
And now, today, this.
It took him 26 minutes to reply. In that 26 minutes I paced, shook, cried, and panicked.
Logically, I know that we are safe for the next 6 months as we have a 1-year-lease. Even if they do sell the house, we have that 6 months.
Logically I know that they may not even sell it. My thinking parts know these things.
PTSD doesn't give a fuck what I know. PTSD is already evicted. PTSD is already watching my babies be torn away. PTSD has us back at the shelter. PTSD is making contingency and escape plans. PTSD says RUN!!!!
PTSD has me alone, and afraid and bawling my eyes out in the bathtoom while the people around me, who have never dealt with the trauma of homelessness can't even begin to fathom why I am so afraid.
It's been 6 months. When does it stop? When the hell does it go away?