I had come so far from being the person I had to be when I was in the homeless house. I was getting on with my life, every day doing something more to improve my life. That was until my neighbor, who suffers from myriad mental illnesses, went ballistic this past summer. He decided to get drunk and take other medications as well. Prior to living in these apartments, he was a meth head and homeless. He got himself clean and got SSDI for his mental issues and moved in six months before I did. Prior to this outburst, we got along great. Both my other neighbor and I gave him our recyclables so he could augment his income. In return, he would sweep the carport every week to keep it clean. He also stopped some other meth heads from stealing my small refrigerator I kept outside because there was nowhere else to put it. But after he apparently received notice last July that his lease was not renewed, he went on a binge, threatening to kill everyone in the 5 unit apartment complex.
I called police because I feared for the safety of his girlfriend in his apartment as he was throwing things around and screaming and yelling. Police came, and he tried to come outside of his apartment and harm them. He kept calling the female police officer names, such as “cunt, whore and bitch”. But she and her partner remained calm, telling him he had to stay in his apartment or they would arrest him on public intoxication. They eventually came over to talk to me and my other next door neighbor and we just told them what we heard. They said they were going to leave because their presence there is what was setting him off. As soon as they left, the neighbor got into his car (his girlfriend had left by then) and drove off. I called police because he was drunk and on other drugs as well.
He was stopped less than a mile from the apartment. I don’t know exactly what happened next as I wasn’t there, but my other neighbor accessed the police report the following day to find out he had tried to run the female police officer over with his car. Either she or her partner had to shoot out his tires to make him stop. He was subsequently arrested on drunk driving, driving without a license and attempted murder of a police officer. That last charge was dropped by the District Attorney because Black Lives Matter and he was unarmed, except for the two thousand pound vehicle he used to try to kill an officer of the law.
Later that week, I found out from my neighbor, that he had filed charges with the Housing Agency against everyone in the building (even though I’m the only other one who is on Section 8 Housing and would be affected) of harming his civil rights. All I did was call the police because he didn’t belong on the road. When you’re drunk, you have no right to get behind the wheel of a car. It was then that I decided I would no longer help him out with recycling. As far as I was concerned, people who tell lies about me don’t deserve to know the time of day.
When he noticed I wasn’t giving him my recyclables, he began banging bottles underneath my window at 4:30am to wake me up. One day in September, I had enough and called police. I told them that I needed my rest and that he was being a nuisance by banging bottles underneath my window at 4:30am. Then went to speak with him and he denied doing anything. Thing is, my neighbor’s boyfriend heard him because it woke him up too. After the police left, the bottle banger began threatening to kill me and said things such as “You’re so fat I’m going to have to find a piana box to bury you in, you fat ass, lying bitch.” I called the police again, who told me to ignore it. Ignore this man’s booming voice? It’s the second time he’s threatened to kill me, yet nothing is being done. The police told me it was a matter for the Property Manager to take care of. I called the Property Manager who said that part of the deal was that he’s not supposed to have recycling in front of his place. I asked him what was he going to do about the death threats and he said he’d talk to me later and hung up on me. That was the last time I spoke with the Property Manager. Because now when he sees my phone number come up, he sends it to voicemail. He refuses to answer my texts and refuses to answer his phone at work.
From then on, it just got worse. Every time I would leave my apartment, he would get up, come out of his apartment and start calling me “fat lying bitch! You so fat you need to ride that tricycle of yours, ya fat ass!!!” Then he began turning his music up real loud so that the wall between our apartments would move. I asked him one night to turn it down and he just turned it up louder. I was forced to purchase an air horn as a way to fight back, so I blasted the air horn. He just yelled, “blow that horn fatty, blow that horn!!!” I finally pounded on the wall that was moving and within a few minutes he was pounding on my bedroom window, all wild eyed, trying to break in. I called police AGAIN. And AGAIN they told me it was a matter between the Property Manager and him. I called the Property Manager. I texted the Property Manager, but the Property Manager doesn’t care. Because if he did care, he would take care of the issue.
I was gone for a night with a friend a week before Thanksgiving, and came back the next day, only to be assaulted once again, with him yelling fat names at me. I suffer from PTSD. The thing that sets it off is yelling and loud noises, such as the loud booming stereo, which the police say he can have it as loud as he wants as long as they can’t hear it in their squad cars when they drive by. So the apartment I pay rent on is utterly useless as my PTSD has kicked in overdrive and left me just a bluthering ball of nothingness. I can barely hold on to what mind I have left.
But no one cares. I know no one cares because no one will help me. That last time I called police, the officer said he was going to tell the Property Manager to kick us both out. Because I’m the only one calling police, they think I’m making this up. But I’m not. I made such great strides after being subjected to this kind of crap in the Homeless House, run by the Fairfield Suisun Community Action Council, that I’m back to where I was the day I had to call police because my roommate spit on me, body blocked me and held a knife up that she slept with, threatening to kill me. She lied to the police and said I hit her. They told me the only way that they could arrest her was to arrest me. I had just landed a job at a Fortune 500 Company and an arrest would cost me my job. I had no recourse. Even though, for right now I’m not homeless, I am emotionally and mentally back at that same place because PTSD has taken over and I have nowhere to turn.
The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I applied for a restraining order against the neighbor. It wasn’t granted, but there is a hearing on it on December 12th. My friend is going to serve the papers to the neighbor this afternoon or evening. I fear for my life. If he went as ballistic as he did when his lease wasn’t renewed, how is he going to respond to a restraining order?
I just pray I get to update this blog again. Someday…