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…
