My sisters are great people. Period. But their eternal optimism and positivity is not always correct.
I live in a nice apartment now. I only have to get along with one roommate. We get along fairly well, with little drama but lots of misunderstandings. We offer each other food we have on hand. I’ll tell him to help himself to my cold sodas anytime he wants and he’ll offer me some oatmeal or tortilla chips and salsa. And so on. The cleaning is split.
But anyways, two years ago I had a breakdown. My mom passed sway, I lost my housing, my back was shot, I had to quit school and take two months off from work. And all this happened in the space of two weeks. So I ended up in the psyche ward for two days at age 55.
After the psyche ward I had to move back into mental health housing. (after living independently in society for the past twenty years.)(I got diagnosed 37 years ago).
But the mental health housing was dirtier than what I was used to. And the people tended to be lower-functioning. But I had some of the best times I have had since I got diagnosed. I kind of found my old pre-schizophrenia self there… I rediscovered my old spirit, my old sense of humor. I had some bad times there but I discovered my “old cool”. The men AND the women there seemed to accept me and I fit in to a certain degree.
I rediscovered the warm feeling of being liked by people and being able to like people back. I rediscovered that it is OK to get angry and show it. i discovered that getting mad at women was allowed, lol. I had so many “real moments” there. The main clique didn’t accept me 100% or even 50% but after 6 months they begrudgingly began to talk to me and I was on OK terms with them.
BUT…the management kicked most of the higher functioning people out and I had to move into the place down the street. It was owned by the same management but it was different. The people were different. It was serious stuff there. The people were meaner and more desperate. The people could be cool and the food was good but I hated being there. And for all I knew, I would be there for the rest of my life.
It was rarely fun there. I had many good moments but it was scary there. My old place was scary sometimes but not as bad as this. People were on desperate power trips and nothing came free or easy there.
It took the management 2 months to replace a light bulb in the men’s bathroom. So for two months you did everything in the dark if you get my drift. My sisters visited a couple times and i gave them a tour and they told me, “Nice, this place is great”. But on a day to day basis of people bugging you even while you are in your room it was a nightmare. Part of it was all in my head die to my illness but the drunk street guy threatening me was not a hallucination. Anyways, I could go on.
But its water under the bridge. My new place is quiet, peaceful, plenty of space and storage space . All the plumbing and electric works great. No groups of people congregate outside. Almost any time of day or night that I look out any window, no one is out there. No loud music playing, no one standing outside shrieking or yelling. It is just families trying to raise kids. Hallelujah. I struck gold with this place. And now I can relax.Good night.