Stress through the roof.
There’s nothing quite like this experience we’ve all been going through. When I think about what my kids have endured this past two weeks, it takes strength from the tippy tippy tippiest of my toes to hold back the tears. A young man is found murdered in the basement of our home. The only home they have ever known. A home they felt safe in, comfortable in… they loved. This tragedy has faced another family. A very very tragic loss for a family. A son, brother, uncle, nephew, friend. And this tragedy has shaken this building/community at its core.
Neighbors once outside no longer venture safely. Kids who could once play in the sunshine now terror. My kids, I can speak for…. they are scared to even use their own bathroom alone. They travel through this tiny two bedroom apartment in pairs for fear what lurks around the corner. They are living in a constant reminder of what has happened in their lives because it seems like life has just stood still in this building. The world around continues on and every night, till the wee hours of the morning, we are faced with the constant reminder. There is no moving forward. Just standing stagnant.
No news of a resolution is in sight.
Building owner and management treat this like a walk in the park. The owner not once came to check on residents here. Management changes the key to the storage rooms as if that now provides some sort of sense of security? There were two nights in a row my husband traveled home after 1am from work to a pitch black apartment building because their timer lights were on the fritz. I have messaged time and time again about a front security door that *never* securely locks. This building was such a beautiful place to live and is now a shit-hole due to the lack of care Hunter Properties provides it and it’s residents. Their priorities are well…. ha…. who are we kidding? What are priorities (to them)? That is the true question. When friends ask if the building has been in touch with us in the last two weeks? Nope. Only to stick a new storage key in an envelope under our door. Ridiculous.
I have reached out and it feels we are the forgotten. And what drives my nerves through the roof is trying to hold all of this shit together so the kids can find some semblance of moving on and moving past. They certainly have no chance of that if I’m not keeping it together. But I am rattled. I am nervous. I want safety and peace for my family. I long for a massive change to which we are trapped. A lease we cannot afford to leave, and no place to go. We are stuck here dealing with this ridiculous stagnant ….. chaos.
I have family that has no clue what we’ve been going through and dealing with (and certainly do not care all that much), and the only that does suggests we move. Oh gee…. well I hadn’t thought of that! What a brilliant idea. It’s a lonely time with no extended family to reach out and lend a hand. And even more so when you feel your efforts to reach out to your community and landlord become second fiddle.
Sometimes I wish (envision) I could invite the landlord into my home and force him to attempt to sleep through the last two weeks of what we have been through. I would sit by his bedside and laugh at him and tell him…. I’ll be back…. never….. as it feels they are telling us by their silence right now.
I meditate daily for some peace. I long for my children to again feel safe. I hope that one day in the extremely near future these simple inevitable rights will again feel bestowed upon my children once again.
Till then…. at this 1:30am hour on the 13th night, I try to go to sleep.