Change is Inevitable

     Back when I was around 20 years old, I picked up a book at a second hand store about how the human race hates change. It spoke of how change is inevitable, but it's the one thing we just can't seem to handle. I so get that.

     I haven't blogged for awhile because I have been busy. Uber busy. After losing my job at H&R Block, losing my car to a crash that as none of my fault,  I was kicked out of the program and was truly homeless.

April 16th, I woke up with a bad stomach ache. I called in sick to work because if I was sick I did not want to share. Although others are not as, um, understanding as me, there are things I don't want to share and sickness is one of them. After sleeping as much as I could, I got up and started to feel a little better. I think it was some food I had the day before that made me feel that way. In any case, I went to the library for awhile and then in the afternoon, had an appointment with my shrink. I told him everything was going well, that I hoped to move out of the madhouse by the 11th when I would have enough money for the first and last month deposit. I asked him for another script of Ativan, because I was still anxious about life, what with getting a new job, going off food stamps and finally being off Uncle Sam's Plantation. He gave me a script (not for the Ativan like I asked. but something less useful) and I dropped it off at the pharmacy on my way home.

     When I got to the house, there were extra cars there, so I had to park in the street next door. I walked in, carrying all of my groceries that I had bought while at the store. I put them on the counter while I went to get my Sharpie to write my name on them all. Sitting at the table was the Case Worker and some other woman-the same woman who was with the Program Manager the previous Thursday night at 10:30 when they came to collect fresh urine.

     That woman, handed me 2 pieces of paper, stapled together and folded up. I unfolded the paper and read where I was being kicked out of the program for A) Using illegal drugs; B) For being a violent person and threatening other residents and C) For not following the rules. Mind you, the shunners eat in their room all the time because they have their own television up there. They steal toilet paper and paper towels. They stay up as late as they want and do whatever they want when they want. And I was being served with a paper full of lies. On the paper it said I had 5 days, until April 22nd, to leave the premises with my belongings or they were going to call the police and have me arrested.

      What?

     Anyone who has known me for any length of time-including the Case Worker, who signed the paper-knows I am none of these things. Yes, I speak my mind, especially when my or someone else's rights are being violated. But violent? Because I grew up in a violent household does not make me violent. I abhor violence. Yes, I have lost my temper a couple of times in over the year I was in the program, but have never harmed anyone on purpose. I had to add that last line because when I had to call the police the time I was assaulted by the crazy woman, the deaf shunner begged and pleaded for me to show her what the woman had done to me. I told her that she body blocked me. Because she doesn't like wearing her hearing aid, I had to keep repeating. Finally, she told me to show her. I told her no. Then she begged and pleaded for me to show her. Bad decision on my part. Because my adrenaline was pulsating through my system, I was stronger than I normally would be. When I showed her the body block, it hurt her back, which was already messed up. I guess that's where they get that I am violent. That and the fact that I am a big person, so I must be violent.
    

     As for the illegal drug use, the only thing I could think of was that they gave me the urine test an hour after I had taken my evening meds, so it was the highest concentration it would be. It must have looked like I took more than the prescribed amount. I even asked the woman, who I didn't know, does she know that I am on prescribed narcotics? She said it didn't matter. I suppose anything outside of an aspirin to them is considered "street drugs". Which I find quite funny since they take the deaf shunner to get her high every morning at the Methadone clinic. She has to take so much it's in liquid form.

     And the not following the rules? I followed all of the rules posted on the fifteen pages of them in the kitchen/dining room. Apparently, some pigs are smarter than others. (see "Animal Farm" for the reference)

It was through prayer that help came my way and I was able to get into an apartment by Saturday, one day before I had to be out. I still haven't been able to clean out both my storage units; I really want the smaller one cleaned out, but I can't lift it all myself. I need friends on a Saturday and or Sunday to help me. Are you available next weekend? It would be great if I didn't have to rent a U-Haul, but will. I am not supposed to be lifting anything heavy because of my neck issues, which I go to the Spine Surgeon on the 23rd. But it kills me to use what little money I get a month to pay for both storage units.

     Yes, I did cry when I was served with the kick out papers. I have worked too hard and come too far  to be labeled a violent drug abuser who cannot follow the rules. It hurts. I don't yet know what I am going to do with the organization-who I refuse to announce because I don't want to give them any leverage in court-for writing and signing lies about me. It is a little thing called libel, but I might not have a case on that alone. I have plenty of evidence of other things though, such as being verbally abused by staff as well as threatened by other people in the program who were not kicked out.

     I paid my $300 on time. Since there are 30 days in April, they still owe me $80. But how do I go about getting it without them saying I am threatening them? If they are willing to sign a paper with lies on it to kick me out of the program, I don't know what else they are capable of.

     I asked Blondie to come over last week to help me put together a dinette set. We got to talking and she said that it was this blog that got me kicked out. Really? All eleven followers called the place I have yet to name and tell them I was saying bad things about them? But I have reason to believe her; the Case Worker (CW) has a bad time keeping secrets and she keeps plying Blondie and asking her what I am doing, how is my apt, etc. I told Blondie the next time CW asks about me, tell her to go to hell. She knew those were lies on that paper and I don't yet know how, but I do know she will pay.

     Change is inevitable. Sometimes it seems it's for the worse, when it is for the best. I don't have any rules but my own to follow now. And those are pretty tough...