My son and I are homeless now. We are staying with a friend until her roommate returns from a trip on the 22nd. After that I don’t know where we will go. We are in the Bay area of California, perhaps one of the worst places to be homeless due to the unavailability of affordable housing options.
Like most things that have happened in the last five years or so since I lost my health, this was unexpected and unimaginable. We were staying with a friend. Something went terribly wrong. If I could say exactly what it was, I would. I’ve been over and over it in my head. When it first happened I went into survival mode. I had to find us housing in the form of a hotel. I had to figure out what to do about my son’s nearly finished school year. I had to figure out how to get my belongings out of my so-called friend’s house because she was threatening to throw them out in the yard. She followed through on her promise. I had to leave many things behind because my body gave out. I had to use the money I had saved to gain independent housing on a week’s hotel stay.
My “friend” claims I am playing the victim. She says that I was using her by staying with her, that I have serious problems and that she can’t believe she ever tried to help me. I don’t know what caused her to draw these conclusions. It was entirely her idea that we come and live with her. She said it was so I could rest and figure out what I was going to do next.
We were there for about two months. About two weeks after we arrived I was served papers by my Ex in an attempt to gain custody of my son. At the time I found out that via emails and social media, my son was conspiring with her against me. He wrote a letter detailing all of my failures as a parent presumably to give to a judge. I saw an attorney. She told me that my Ex has very little legal leg to stand on, that she would never be able to gain physical custody of my son. I was required to respond to her petition at the cost of $500. I applied to have the fee waived because of the little money I get from disability each month was going toward attempting to gain our own place. The court denied my petition, citing that I had money in the bank. Nothing about it seemed fair or just. It didn’t seem to matter. My Ex accused me of things that were not true. That didn’t seem to matter either. She wants vengeance. It seems she will do everything in her power in an attempt to harm me.
And now she has a whole list of people on her side. The growing list of people who hate me and want to harm me in some way. I saw on her Facebook page that another one of my Ex’s from years ago is joining her in her efforts to steal my son from me. Now my so-called friend joins the growing list of people out to get me. Included on this list are my half-siblings. In all of these instances the only thing that seems to matter is what they say I have done. There is never an accountability on the others part for actions that they have done. Why do I make people so angry? Why do people who once loved me (or so I thought) turn on me? Why are they succeeding in destroying me?
Two nights ago I was despondent. Gaining the ability to rest for a few days without worrying about housing allowed all of the feelings to come to the surface. I felt like the only solution was to hand my son over to my Ex and to kill myself. I’ve wanted to kill myself many times but have never had the courage to go through with it. People know this about me because I am an open book. I don’t say these thing to try to manipulate people or for any other reason except to say I’m desperately sad, I’m desperately alone. I can’t see a reason to continue other than my son.
I’ve given up the hope that I will ever see anything akin to wellness. Whatever it is that causes pain and sickness in my body continues to progress despite anything I have tried to get better. My muscles tighten and constrict involuntarily. My spine twists this way and that. Is it Lyme or something else? I have no idea. I’ve seen hundreds of doctors. I’ve had surgeries. There have been no solutions.
I keep thinking that I must deserve this because it is my reality. I must not deserve my son although many times I feel like I am the only one who can understand him. I never imagined that my son would turn against me but even that has happened. I don’t intentionally set out to hurt people, and many have done worse things than I. I feel at times that there is no other conclusion to draw except that I am unworthy of existence.
I long for the past, to a time when I didn’t know the things that I know now, to a time when I felt worthy of redemption. To a time when I had health and a sense of purpose. To a time when there were people on this earth like my father and my aunt who always loved me no matter what happened. To a time when I had a family, no matter how disjointed. To a time when I had a mother who still knew that I was her daughter. To a time when I could pull myself out of anything, when I knew I could rely on myself.