Fury and solutions

 bloody fucking shit. I come home to a mess outside with mattresses and box springs everywhere and broken branches stacked up between them. If I wasn't afraid I'd set something on fire I'd burn the lot of them. So no my brain gets a more creative idea and all I can think is that is what I should do. Make walls around the building using the shit they left here. I am so angry.

I am going to block the driveway with the branches then build a fence using the springs from the mattresses and box springs they left earlier after the first thaw. It won't be pretty and I'm sure there will be complaints from everyone but I really don't care. They want to leave shit around this building then I'm gonna use that shit and make it difficult for them to put more shit around it.

I suspect it won't last long but maybe it will give the people who are doing this shit some thing to think about. 

I don't understand why they have chosen to make our building the centre of a dump but I'm not gonna take it laying down. Fuck the whole city even though I'm sure it is only a few people fuck them all. I don't understand why do this shit to this building of all the buildings they could attack why are they attacking this one.

I am lost

 I am so lost right now. I do not even know what I want from them. Maybe to take some of the responsibility from me. But no one can do that. They are right I need to talk to him. to find out where he is with the disability and the child tax credit and everything else. I don't know what he has done or not done, I do not even know why I am leaning on Nessa to help him out when I don't even know what  kind of help he needs.

I do not know what is going on in my head. I do not understand anything I've said or why it makes me cry.

I keep looking for the beginning of the conversation. I don't know how to copy it all down so I can figure out what went wrong.

"Don't forget I've food at my house. You're welcome to it."

" True, I just hate waiting I don't have patience and I can't do a big grocery shopping until it comes. I think I may wait until you're home I don't know if I want to go there. Like I said  I don't want anything to do with Scarlett and Myles and their bs."

"Considering that your brother is trying to live on $5 a month after his rent is paid, you might have a bit more sensitivity"

"I will have more sympathy when he thanks me for anything I've ever done for him in the past. I've never recieved a thank you for anything. I'm sorry he's dealing with that but there are ways around it and he needs to figure it out. Like having a boss instead of being his own boss"

Why not show a little compassion and help him without the thanks. That sounds a little selfish to me" Look I don't want to get on your case. Your opinion is your own, but some compassion for your brother might not be misplaced"  

This is how it began. The next message I got was a diatribe against her brother. I lost my temper and said some things I shouldn't have.  There are so many words. I need to ask E how I get them into a form I can read. I just know that there was a feeling of utter selfishness in her responses. I think we weren't talking about her brother at all but something fundamentally wrong in our understanding of each other. 

I need to figure out why what she wrote hurt me so. I need to understand why even now the tears are right there right now. I need to understand how this conversation and the next one reduced me to tears. I don't cry about much but I'm doing a lot of crying right now.

 

Jail here I come

 another night another mess. If, no, when I see the one called no pants I will kill her or at least try. There is no reason acceptable to bring garbage into another persons home and throw it about. This wing holds people with health issues and even if she isn't leaving garbage in the main halls it is still in the building and likely to compromise their health and my own.

the stress being caused by one person in unbeleivable. my mental health isn't strong at the best of times and there are others in this wing that it is affecting even worse. I will destroy her for what is happening in this building, her and everyone else who mistreats this building inside or out.

there is no reason for this to happen, there is no reason strong enough to excuse this kind of behaviour. I was willing to allow her and others shelter but it was with the understanding that they would treat this building with the respect and care they would give their own home. I am done trying.

TVM does nothing, we spent a week myself and a group of 5 others cleaning up around this building to welcome spring only to have it destroyed in one night and the damage continues on a nightly basis. I can't even sleep because of what I'm afraid will happen next.

We have had apartments broken into, found feces in the hall and tonight there was food left in the middle of the hallway. Food that was emptied out of garbage bags and left on the floor to rot and stink and cause a health hazard.

I am done being nice to her and any other outsider that comes near this place. If this is how they repay us then they need to die. I am willing to kill to protect my home and I will. I am done talking, the next time I see her I fully intend to grab her and beat the living shit out of her and if I have my garbage picker I will stick it in her chest.

I do not lie, at least I avoid it as much as possible

 I do not lie, at least I avoid it as much as possible. It is a point of pride for me to express myself with honesty.

Remember what I said about the brain and how it tells us stories, false ones and true ones. The stories it tells are expressions of our inner thoughts and beliefs. 

This morning I was awakened my loud voices in the hall so being who I am I went to investigate to find my son with a homeless man and to catch a glimpse of a female fleeing the scene. What I found before that was another pile of emptied garbage bags strewn between the k-wing exit and the basement exit in the hall between the wings.

My words to the man were "I trust you guys not to make a mess when you get inside". Or words to that effect anyway, making it sound like I actually opened the door and let them into the building. That was my brain blaming me because I didn't check the door after K3 came in at midnight and I should have. While I didn't technically open the door and say come in I might as well have. My failure to check the door allowed them inside.

In that my son is correct in saying I lied but I wasn't lying about the actually opening the door and letting them in. I feel that it was my responsibility because I didn't go check to make sure the door was closed and because I figure if they do get in it is because they need to be. Does that make sense... the words I need to express the feeling are not coming out properly.

I didn't let them in by opening the door, I let them in by not making sure the door was shut tight.

If they came into a building that was open, they did so because they needed shelter. I would not deny them shelter but by accepting that shelter they owe the building some respect?. 

Again I lose the logic behind the thought. It makes sense in my head but I can't articulate it.

Shelter should be a right but if they bring garbage inside or otherwise mess up the building then they do not deserve it. They should treat the building the way they would treat their own home. You don't bring garbage into your home you take it out. You do not shit on the floors of your home or allow your pet to, you use a bathroom and/or you clean it up. You don't just walk away and let it sit there.

 

Sunday March 23- Coming to Ground

 Coming to ground
touching down
looking around
I am here
where I should be.

Touching down
looking around
I am found
I flourish
where I should be

Looking around
I am found
in my place
I am home
where I should be

Coming to ground
I look around
I have found
my reason to be
where I am.

Well that was interesting those words found their way to my hands without spending much time in my head. I am glad and for the first time I feel like I have finally reached my reason for being on this planet, in this town, in this building. So many roads lead me back here where I first found happiness.

Short though the story may be I met my ex-husband on the front steps of this church and for 5 years I was happy. I still do not know for sure when that changed but I think it was on the trip we took out to BC to visit a friend of ours and ended up staying for a couple of years. Everything changed after that between him and I and I do not know why. Not the topic I was planning but it is preying on my mind so out it must come.

We packed us, two kids and a big grey cat into a mustang and headed out west to visit our friend who had moved out there. We took everything we had with up because we were looking for a new life.

Back in those days you could travel from Ontario to British Columbia without any money. Each night we would stop in a large town or city and visit the nearest Welfare office. They would direct us to any nearby shelters we could sleep at and give us a $100 bucks or so for food and other necessities. The next day we would do it again. 

When we arrived in Britannia Beach, we stayed with our friend for a few days until we could find an apartment. We ended up in Squamish in a nice apartment building. The kids loved it and so did I but he (my KISA, as I called him), didn't. Thats not quite right there is information missing in my head because I do not remember how he felt about it and I should.

There are a few highlights like finding a super thrift shop that became a favourite place to visit and my work at Whistler cleaning up after tourists, climbing the mountain and seeing a mountain lake for the first time.

The memories are very disjointed. I fell down a flight of steps going to the basement, though I'm not sure why I was going into the basement at all unless it was to do laundry. There was a shadow behind me that I feel pushed me so I stumbled on the stairs but I think I staggered but managed to maintain my feet.

There was the man KISA claimed was his uncle who managed the building and who tried to hypnotize me and got pissy when I broke the trance by laughing.

There was a woman who I thought KISA was having an affair with.

When we decided to leave because he was missing his mother (I think that is why we left, he wanted to come back to Peterpatch), I gave some money to the kids and put them on the bus because we were not sure we would be able to places to sleep for four of us and a cat. 

I don't remember the trip back at all beyond an argument because I thought we had more money to travel with then I found in my purse. I accused him of giving some of it to his lover. 

Its such a jumbled mess because maybe the man did manage to hypnotize me and planted the thought of KISA cheating on me, because the shadow that pushed me evolved into KISA. I don't know, that is the story I remember but I am beginning to think there are too many blank spots, that it is not the true story. That things didn't go the way I thought they did and that it wasn't KISA's fault, that my anger was misplaced.

I still feel anger when I meet with him and it feels that every word out of his mouth is a lie and I am not that person. I have never been that kind of person. It feels wrong, incorrect, like maybe it was a dream or an implanted memory. I've always thought that I broke the trance with a laugh before I fall too deep yet what if I didn't?

What if it is like the fever dream that turned pleased laughter and cheers into scornful laughter and jeers from when I danced with the shadows after watching my first ballet? It is scary what the mind can convince us is true even when we know it can not be. 

I admit to some jealousy because KISA has had some of his poetry published, while only one of mine was. The difference of course is that he got himself someone to publish it for him while I never really tried. My poetry was my way of dealing with what ever shit was going on in my life. I had no plans to publish it yet I feel jealous that he did manage that and so much else in his life.

Its weird I have known I was standing still in much of my life, not taking chances but I never understood why. I just say I am not competitive, I don't push I drift. Nothing has ever been that important to me that I would chase it, nothing. Perhaps I need to find that drive.

Perhaps I have found it, the thing that is important to me but I can't even put it into words properly. I want to help the homeless and the addicts through little acts of service as I have done since last summer. I want to provide shelter for them. I have no idea how to go about it and I am terrified to try.

What if I start and it is too much for me? Drifting is easier. Fear really is a mind killer. Fear is the enemy I have to find and overcome. Isn't it?

New Day New Problems

 For some reason I can not sleep this night, rather it is the time change, or just insomnia I don't know. I walked 13966 steps today I should be exhausted but instead my body is jumping all over the place. It itches, it aches, I close my eyes and try to blank out the world save for my fan and even the white noise isn't enough to let me rest. My body is restless and my mind scattered.

Such nights I thought were long gone from my life. I wonder if I am finally getting a touch of Spring Fever. I do not think so because it is early yet for that. I feel cold, then I feel hot. My legs dance at my desk but not in the bed and yet still I can not sleep.

Its like someone put itching powder in my bed or something except it isn't just my bed that itches me but my clothing as well.

None of it makes sense and on top of all that a package I'd been waiting for was delivered by an incompetent driver who left it on the front step of my apartment building, they didn't even call to let me know the package had been delivered. 

If I had not checked my email I wouldn't have known until tomorrow at the earliest (today I guess it being almost 6 am  here). My phone number was on the package, the building is a renovated church and if they had been paying any attention they would have realized it isn't a great neighbourhood yet they did not call they just took a photo of the front door and left the package on the outside stairs. Which means within 5-10 minutes of it being left it was being lifted.

Today after coffee at the appropriate time I will be calling the delivery company to issue a complaint. They are located in burnaby bc so I will have to wait until 9am their time before I can call which will make it around noon here.

 

Another Conversation in my head

 Sometimes my thoughts settle into repeat mode, what they repeat are conversations I feel I need to have but am a bit afraid to follow through on.

Case in point the continued disrespect being shown to what is sacred ground even if it is no longer used as a church. At first it was a few scavengers going through the dumpster looking for the gods only know what, at first. If you looked outside Keith Hall right now you would be disgusted. They have been taking everything out of the dumpster and spreading it around the dumpster area and lately have been targeting the wheelchair ramp ... THE FRICKING WHEELCHAIR RAMP! which at least 4 tenants require the daily use of.

It wasn't enough to turn the connecting hall and the upstairs into a dumpster now they are preventing the free movement of wheelchair bound and walker users. Talk about disrespect, which brings me to the conversation I keep having in my brain.

At the end of the lane is a crackhouse which up until the last big snowstorm in early February didn't cause any issues. Since then the issues have excalated as I mentioned above. I want to take my spear and go pay them a visit. Just to talk, the spear is just in case they start something physical with me.

Just to talk but what would I say well the beginning is easy. The spear is not a threat it is a promise, if someone starts getting physical with me I WILL retaliate. 

I want to talk about the disrespect being displayed towards the old Knox church in general and Keith Hall in particular. Garbage belongs inside the dumpster not thrown all over the place and not on the ramp or in the building. For the life of me I don't understand why after you go through the bags you don't return them to the dumpster. I mean if you got them out putting them back is easy and would cause less anger towards your community.

The deliberate blocking of the ramp and front door of Keith hall is another issue with the same solution. If you need light to see whats in the bags that's fine but why on earth would you leave the mess on the step or ramp when the dumpster is right there?

Its a simple fix, it's called cleaning up after yourself instead of making it so other people have to do it for you as if you are a baby. That is all I ask, clean up after yourself, it is a church for crying out loud and it is a home of physically and mentally handicapped folks not a fucking dump. 

I will find out who is responsible and I will have them charged if needs be, oh and a promise if the cops don't punish you for your disrespect then the gods and I will.

End of conversation. Any questions? Good , thank you for your time.

That's it except I don't know if I'm brave enough to go there and follow through with the actual conversation. Depends how much angrier I get I suppose. Wish me luck and courage if you please, I'd like that.