Homeless

I didn't get an apartment in time.

I'm writing this to you from a cheap motel room. 

I've cried so much this week, I ran out of tears. I've been retching because the stress is making me feel physically sick. 

The mental health case worker assigned to me after my last hospital trip visited me every day this week. He said he'd gotten in contact with someone who could help me with housing, and seemed optimistic. That never led anywhere. 

Yesterday mum was locking up the house and leaving to stay with her friends. She'd been planning to leave by midday. But no one could find me a place to sleep. I've gone through three different services this week, which is all that's available. I'd even gone into the Salvation Army in the morning, but by the end of the day, they couldn't find me anywhere either. 

By 4pm, with no where to go and time running out, mum decided to pay for a motel for me to stay at for two nights. Her friend helped me move my things in his ute, because it wouldn't fit in a car. He'll even help me when I leave the motel, and when I find an apartment. They both sat with me for two hours, smoking and chatting outside, trying to help me settle in. 

Billy is with a pet sitter. Letting him go yesterday was excruciating. I cried my eyes out handing him over, and spent the next few hours lying on the floor, crying with his blanket. I'm very worried about him. He's nearly 15, has a hoard of medical issues including anxiety, and whimpers and howls and panics whenever I leave the house. At least he has a person around though, and won't be outside in a noisy, cold, lonely boarding kennel. He'll be warm and inside, sleeping on the bed, being loved and cared for and getting cuddles. If Billy can't be with me for now, it's the best place for him. She's a vet nurse who volunteers for people in crisis, and she specializes in dogs with acute anxiety. I don't really care where I end up. I just worry about him, but am glad my case worker listened when I told him that Billy needs a person and cannot go to a kennel. Misty is much lower maintenance, and is staying with a vet (at her house) for a few nights before going to a very nice cattery. 

There are a couple of leads for places I might be able to go tomorrow, and I'll be in contact with my case worker today. If it doesn't lead anywhere, I go back to the Salvos at 4pm, and they'll try again.

Keep your fingers crossed for me. I'll update when I can. 

I never thought I'd be homeless. 

14 Days

Things have been hectic since I last posted. Everything's coming down to the crunch, and I have exactly two weeks until the family home transfers over to the new owners.

I've currently got two applications in for houses, and am working myself into a tizzy trying to sort out loans, setting up, and hiring movers, plus still packing up the last few bits and pieces. I looked at three places earlier this week, plus went to two shops to get prices on secondhand whitegoods and furniture (all split across two days). 

I did find the perfect place, not long after I last posted. I went to an inspection the day after it was listed, and sent in an application... but didn't get it. Now I'm looking at places in the not-so-nice neighbourhoods (to put it politely). The big problem is that I'll be too far away for my GP to walk with me to get to appointments. My psych has said she can do home visits, at least to start. But my GP and dietician? 

  "Well, I'm sure we can organize something every couple of months."

I really need to get one of the places I've applied for. I'm quickly running out of time, and everywhere my team have inquired with have been hopeless with finding emergency accommodation.

It's been hard, to say the least. A few weeks ago I had two breakdowns that resulted in ambulances taking me to emergency for assessments. My psych has also gone away for the month, which is the worst timing, so I have little support during all this change. When I last saw her a couple of weeks ago, we did a safety plan to help me deal with crises. It was very depressing. My only Reasons to Live were Billy (my 15 year old dog) and not wanting to die fat.

My lips got a little too lose after a few drinks last week. I admitted to a paracetamol overdose I took over a month ago, and hadn't told a soul about at the time. It scared me, not necessarily because of the overdose itself, but because I didn't ask for help. I didn't care what happened. I took more than what nearly killed my liver back in February, but in the end I was fine. I also admitted to having quite a large stash, which was subsequently taken to the pharmacy to be destroyed.

On the upside, I did get some good news. In the last few months, my team have been working on applying to the NDIS, to get more support and funding. I wasn't expecting to be approved, but two weeks ago I got a letter saying my application had been successful. I still need to wait for a plan to be sorted out, but hopefully it will lead to something good.

For now, I am off to spend yet another day packing and sorting. Keep your fingers crossed that next time I post, I will be living in my own place.

Misty 'helping' with packing

My current pile of Crap To Move in the garage - with more to come!



xxBella