Weeds don't stand a chance

Yesterday I was told that my crazy ex with a bruised ego that Mr. Superior Then Everyone Without A Degree who is probably definitely going to jail for his attack on me may have given me tuberculosis (breathable disease.) So all day from morning to night I was throughly worried that I had a disease that while curable is very dangerous to those with asthma. 

There is no guarantee that treatment will work, treatment is long and sometimes nauseous if not straight out painful, antibiotics and asthma is not a good combination and it’s the only way to cure tuberculosis and finding the right cocktail of antibiotics is performed the same way as it’s done for HIV – “gee let’s see what happens when we mix the blue pills with the red pills with the yellow pills after breakfast but only after you take the pills that are striped or.... is that the other way around?” 

However.... I did receive notice last night that NO I do not have it - thank freaking gawd and every entity in the universe. 


Today I did finally meet with the owner (employer) of a company I thought was blowing me off. She was busy and with a cold and so on.... or so I hope because i accepted her job offer. The last thing I want to do is go job looking again. plus the job is full time with benefits in 2 1/2 months. 


Transitional Housing


I am up for a transitional housing but it's not the one I was hoping I would get. In fact it seems like I'm being given the least favorable one even though I've been the one resident who has worked her ass off to find a job and better myself. I hate to say it but it seems as if because I am not Hispanic I am not being offered a space in the new transitional housing program where residents have their own room and kitchen sharing abilities. 


Instead I'm being offered a bed in a big room with other female residents with a cubby hole space thing to put my clothes and stuff in... right....   The last two residents both went to the same brand new shelter in a very nice area, with all kinds of resources and both were Hispanic and both are not edible to work because they are both illegally in the US. How is this fair?  


I'm going to have to rent a storage unit nearby just to keep anything of value to me and take my laptop with me whenever I leave. :(


Digging my frustrations


Got back from the community garden where I volunteer for an hour each week. The hour using a hand hoe and hand shovel (or whatever they’re called) to dig up weeds and loosen up the dirt really helped to get my mind on the last two days of stress. The green onions have really grown and are ready for the kitchen. The radishes have another week before they can be pulled and today for my part I planted Mustard Greens in the area where I got my stress out. The weeds didn’t stand a chance.


Today I took home some Chocolate Mint leaves for tea tonight.

speechless

Woman shot repeatedly by her estranged husband


A woman repeatedly shot in downtown Santa Monica by her estranged husband, who was later killed by police, was fighting for her life today.

Police refused to name the woman, but said she was hospitalized in critical condition.

Witnesses said she was shot at least once in the back of the head, and again at close range in the upper body once she was on the ground.

She apparently had just left work at a Verizon Wireless office on Seventh Street near Santa Monica Boulevard when she was shot while sitting in her car about 6:15 p.m. Friday.

The woman managed to get out of the car, but was shot at least one more time.

As few as six shots and as many as dozen were fired, the Santa Monica Mirror reported.

Police soon found the gunman, identified as 33-year-old James Stephen Ramirez, and shot him dead in the 1400 block of Ninth Street after he allegedly shot at them.

Selfishness?

Am I being selfish by wanting to stay within the greater Los Angeles area? I lived and left my ex-boyfriend where resided in one of the larger districts / counties. But I came back because this is what is familiar to me and where …as much as I bitch about it, is where I love to live. But am I being selfish or even stupid for not leaving? That’s the question I’m seriously asking myself.


Through the grapevine I was told about a blog post he wrote and so I checked it out for myself (through a proxy server.) Anyone else who reads it would take it as what he said it was – a rant (full of lies) about me. My first impression was that it was so incredibly false that he was trying to lure me into commenting on it or to contact him. In the past I probably would have, but never again.

However, as I read it I saw the anger and violence behind it. I could visualize him getting drunk, kicking or throwing a few things and than going online to rant about the evils of me and the innocence of him.


I’ve deleted a major local social networking profile that held my picture and known online name. I’m also deleting some of the other ones that can be replaced easily. Each of my profiles that I do use regularly for personal or work related stuff (job hunting, intern work & volunteer work) lists a different believable city in which I could be residing.


Am I being stupid? By staying here am I putting myself at risk? I don’t want to start over yet again. I’m on the verge on landing a really good job and getting into transitional housing – which is a separate rant but seems unimportant now. Technically I'm pretty far from him. However I’m still only an hour (or so) drive away. Do I want to throw away everything because of one suspicious blog posting?


The prosecutor is going after him with or without me. I don’t want to be involved, I want him and all of that to go away and never show its ugly face again. If I allow myself to get involved it opens up a large can of filth for him to use against me. I am a serial domestic violence dater after all. As facts, my past can easily be used against me and I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’m not strong enough to withhold not being emotionally destroyed from it. So I’m not going to contact the prosecutor. I may and a big may it is, mail official affidavits with my statements but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. Even then, I would have to go to a different county to do it so that a trail wouldn’t be left behind to track me.


What I don’t trust our government to protect me? No, I don’t. It not only didn’t protect me from my mother but throw me back into her house telling me that I bruised myself and broke my own arm. When I went for help with my second abuser, no help was offered. I was never told I had options. So no, I don’t trust that the good ol broken red, white and blue protectors will protect me.


Maybe that’s why I’m a little disgusted / disenchanted with the women I see and live with at the DV shelter. Because I know they have been given a chance to have a new life and they take it for granted.


If one of his friends sees me and they tell him where they saw me, I may be in serious danger. But I also don’t want to move… but I may not have a choice. I’m going to sit and wait and watch. If I think he could / will come out to find me or if he blogs messages that escalate farther into being dangerous to me, then I’ll leave immediately. Otherwise, I’m sitting tight. I’ll get the job, potentially using a business identification number instead of my ssn and save my money. At least this way I’m building up a savings to run if I have to.

Aftermath of Domestic Violence

From domestic violence to District Attorney abuse

This is just one of the reasons why some women (and men) don't report domestic violence. After going through the trauma with the partner/spouse, they / we have to face a whole new trauma of going through court. Unfortunately, I know this one from personal experience.

• Third Woman Accuses Wisconsin DA of 'Sexting' Harassment -ABC NewS
• Ken Kratz, Sexting DA, Says He Won't Resign, Commits to Therapy  - CBS News
• Ken Kratz takes medical leave after sexting suspect's girlfriend - City Pages Blog
• Ken Kratz resigns as Calumet County District Attorney - FOX 11

Calumet County's district attorney tried to start a relationship with a domestic violence victim by sending her 30 text messages over three days while he was prosecuting her ex-boyfriend.

A third woman has come forward to claim she was harassed via text message by a Wisconsin prosecutor who has already come under fire for allegedly sending sexually charged messages to two other women on separate occasions.


In one text, Kratz asked, "Are u the kind of girl that likes secret contact with an older married elected DA ... the riskier the better?"


In another, he said "I have the $350,000 house. I have the 6-figure career. You may be the tall, young, hot nymph, but I am the prize!"


Several other women came forward with reports of inappropriate sexual advances from Kratz in the days to follow.


"The reason why I'm coming forward is he abuses his power, not only with women, but with women in certain situations who are extremely vulnerable to his authority," Ruskiewicz, 31, an Appleton, Wis

Read more: HERE

Dangerous “Victims”

I’m keeping this short because I have good news. I filed a complaint against Special K regarding the major and small events that she has been doing in an effort to make my life miserable. Yesterday morning my roommate and I went to the store to get a few picnic food items to celebrate her birthday. When we got back I discovered that someone had been in our room. Worse… someone had taken my bottle of mouthwash and poured a tiny amount of bleach into the bottle. Not much but enough that someone with a really good sense of smell (people with medical problems who have developed a good sense of smell) could tell that something other than mouthwash was inside. The mouthwash is clear as is bleach – no one could tell by sight only smell. The only people home were staff, Special K and her roommate. Her roommate had come into our room earlier when she thought neither of us would be there - 7:30, a time I'm usually gone by. However, I slept in because it was my roommates birthday and wasn't planning to go job hunting that day. When she discovered we were both still there she rushed out of our room. Hmmm


I immediately took the issue to staff but because neither I or anyone else saw her do it she was thoroughly lectured and I’m sure threatened to be kicked out…but allowed to stay for now. Now I have to lock up my laptop and our room door has to be locked whenever we leave the actual shelter. My roommate was pissed that it almost ruined her birthday but we quickly made up for it. We headed to the beach where we had a picnic and walked in the waves. It was truly a gorgeous day and I found 3/4th of a sand-dollar on the beach, which I gave to her as a birthday present. I'm poor :p


My back is healing and I’m now able to walk in the sand - for a decent amount of time and distance. Not great but much better then a couple of weeks ago. When I got home (shelter,) I discovered an email requesting an interview from one of my all time favorite websites :) I was so thrilled I jumped around until I remembered my back was sore. I can’t wait to call and schedule an interview. I am going to knock the interviewer’s socks off! I will be so prepared it will almost be scary. The hardest part will be coming up with the money to go to the interview as its in anther county. I'm going to try to sell the last of what I have left thats worth money to pay for the train fare. I don't care that I may have to sell something I love.... for this company its worth it.

Homeless Hating Hospital

I haven’t written in days because I’ve been not only physically damaged but traumatized by what happened to me at the hospital. It’s only now I can really piece together enough inner strength to start overcoming what happened – how I was so badly treated by Homeless Hating Hospital ER’s Social Worker.

I was making calls to locate a Homeless shelter, a transitional Housing program or even a Domestic Violence shelter and located one with an opening when I stood up and a stabbing pain sliced through my leg and lower back. Still on the phone and trying to coordinate my arrival it happened a second time and then a third time. The operator I was talking to and I both knew something was seriously wrong (I have a Herniated disc injury). Soon afterwards I was transported to the emergency room at Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital. Received decent care but entirely too much pain killer medicine which I believe may have been morphine - I was throwing up for over an hour.


On Tuesday August 31st 2010. I was transported to Homeless Hating Hospital for what I now know is a herniated disc injury caused by domestic violence and physical stress. Greg (I believe is the name of the social worker) came into my ER bed space and from the very start was hostel to me. He asked me how he could help me. I told him I was going to a domestic violence shelter and the shelter told me that once the medical staff was done to ask the hospital staff to arrange for me to be transported to or near the shelter. Greg immediately got defensive and said "no way the hospital doesn’t do that.”

He then proceeded to demand information from me and belittle me for leaving my ex boyfriend for the second time. He asked me what my boyfriend did and he snapped at me - He said: “and you’re just reporting it now!?”

When I tried to explain why I didn’t file a police report he got extremely disturbed and loudly told me I had to file a report. I again tried to explain why I couldn’t but he wouldn’t let me finish. Then he demanded to know where I came from. I told him PATH. He told me to go back there then. I told him what happened at PATH and that I had already scheduled to be at a domestic violence shelter. Before I could finish all of my explanation he snapped at me again and said

“You’ve gone back to him twice. I don’t want to get involved with you and your boyfriend.”

I again tried to explain to him why I didn’t want to and he practically yelled "NO, I don’t want to get involved.”

Then he started to demand to know where I had been for the last three days. I got upset and started to raise my voice. He told me to calm down as I was telling him I had spent the last three days at emergency shelters. He then told me to go back there. Again, I told him I was already scheduled to go to a domestic violence shelter. He demanded to know why I wasn’t already there. I told him that all of the shelters were full until today and I could show him my list of places I’ve called. He made a face of disgust and said in a demeaning voice “I don’t want to see it.”

I then asked to use the phone. He said “The phone is at the nurses’ station”

I said “I can barely walk, can you please bring it to me?”

Him: “No, you can walk yourself over there.”

At this point I practically screamed “Did you even read my medical chart?” It wasn’t until the day after I realized he did indeed read that I was suffering from a herniated disc injury and knew I could barely walk.

I closed my eyes, took a couple of breaths and calmly asked for him to bring me the phone so I could call the domestic violence shelter.

He again said “No, we don’t have bedside phones and if you want to use the phone you’ll have to use it there.”

I said “I need to call the shelter to figure out how I’m going to get there. The nurse brought me the phone last time, why can’t you do that?”

He said that the hospital was not a transportation unit and if I wanted to use the phones “you’ll just have to walk yourself over there.”

Again, I became extremely upset and told him he was the wrong person to help me and since he didn’t give a shit about me there was nothing he could do.

He said “I didn’t say that.”

Me: “Yes you did when you said you didn’t want to get involved with me and my boyfriend. So since you couldn’t care less you can’t help me.”

He said in a snotty voice: “I never said that, you’re being hysterical and I’m here to assist you.”

I said I wish I could record you because if you heard yourself you would be too. What can you assist me with?”

He stabbed his clipboard with his fingers, leaned towards me and in a hostel voice said “I have to interview you to know.”

After this loudly said that I needed to get to the domestic violence shelter and I needed the phone. He threw his hands up in the air and again in a hostel voice said "You’ve been released right?”

Me: "Not officially.”

He threw his hands in the air, turned his back on me , turned back around and in a hostel voice said: “Well! Since you obviously need medical attention and not me I’m releasing you over to them. I guess I
can’t help you.” Then he stormed off.

I then called for anyone to come to my bed and finally a man in red scrubs came. I asked him I needed my nurse or my doctor. The nurse came and I told her what happened, asked for the phone and demanded to talk to the ER Manager. In fact I had to ask several different times.

When I got the phone I told the hotline what happened as well and it is only because of them I was transported to a police station to be picked up.

Before I left the same social worker came to my bed. I immediately said I didn’t want to talk to him. He ignored me and said “You’ve been released. A shuttle is being arranged to transport you. I hope you get
the medical help you need. Glad we could help you.”

An older woman who told me she was a director came to me and I was hysterical... I told her what happened and told her that he should never be working with people. I said I was going to file a complaint with not only the hospital but the board that certifies social workers. I again asked for the social worker's name and was refused each and every time.


In the end…. No one in ER would give me his name or his title. I didn’t remember it until the next day. It took the Program Manager from the DV Shelter calling the ER Director to get them to transport me to the police station so they could pick me up.

The last couple of days have been physically and emotionally tortuous. For the last few days I have honestly wondered and started to believe that yes, I did deserve it. Maybe that is wrong but now I can't help but wonder/ believe ...maybe I do deserve everything that has happened to me.

 The DV Staff have been saints to me. They scheduled me to see a real doctor who actually cares (female) and not only gave me medication for the pain but referred me to a different hospital for x-rays, counseling and physical therapy. If it wasn’t for them I honestly believe I would have been thrown out on the street by Homeless Hating Hospital and left for the street vultures.

I still feel emotionally drained …and I know that what Homeless Hating Hospital’s Social Worker did to me was probably not the first time and will not be the last time. I'm horrified that he has probably done this to other women who have been dumb enough to stay in abusive relationships. But when there is no other place to go - what are we suppose to do?

I did file a complaint with not only the hospital but the BBB and the certification board for Social Workers.

Right now, I want to physically heal and then get my life back. I want to believe I'm not as stupid as I feel. I am so mentally, spiritually and emotionally drained I just want to recover and start over...

Just like prison

But you don’t have to break the law.

NOTE: Because I couldn't get online last night I'm posting this in two different blog postings to break up the length. 

My exit took longer than it was suppose to and longer than it should have. The train was also half an hour late. Because of this I missed the unknown to me closing time which I wasn’t told about. So until Monday I am at the worst of the worst emergency shelters. The place is miserable and scary and depressing and I don’t think even Hollywood could make it look as bleak as it really is. I have never been to prison but I imagine this is a nicer version of it and I don't know if I really can live in Skid Row... I don't know if I can really do have what it takes.

I don’t know if I am THIS strong.

The front door is staffed by an armed security guard who has to buzz you into the complex. Once you’re in you precede to the office…a hole in the wall on the other side of a “Day Lounge.” The day lounge is filled to the brim with female entities that probably haven’t seen better days since they were children. Some watch whatever drool is playing on the TV, others are chatting with others while some are threatening whoever walks by or looks at them. But most are staring into the nothingness.

Securing a bed is much like checking into the ER but with different questions.
Name
Age
Children
Diseases
Mental illness
Medication
Can you sleep on a top bunk without falling off?

How many have fallen off?

After being issued a bed number and told to wait until 8pm to be called to bed women already start to line up for the 6:30pm dinner call. Women line up as early as an hour prior to the feeding. As you enter the cafeteria a larger banner greets you and says
“Jesus loves you.”

Really? I don’t want his love. Personally I’m trying to quite abusive “loving” partners that neglect those they say they love and then serves them misery. So if this is his way of showing me some love, he should just back the $#@! Off.

The line continues past Jesus’ declaration of love where you accept your medical lime green tray of edible substance. The potatoes like substance were pale tan and tastes between squash and what I imagine prison food to taste like. There was something fried that I later overheard was supposed to be egg rolls. They did have shredded edible stuff so I guess thats what they were. The only thing that looked and tasted like it was suppose to was the small pile of salad with hidden salad dressing. At least I hope it was salad dressing. The rice, well, rice isn’t too difficult to 'make' so it looked right… like a mountain from Whoville. Except the mountain was white & the snow was black… and I was grateful for the free food.

Bathrooms in the “Day Lounge” – If walls could talk these would be scared silent, I was. But at least I know where to go for an easy drug purchase.

Soon after dinner and precisely as your ready to return to staring into the nothingness the one man religious concert starts up = Fire & Brimstone – Rock on!

…and there I sat. Wondering when my next shower would be. Whether or not I’ll be able to change my clothes tonight for bed or even the next day. Wondering what the Hell had I done to deserve this fate? Is this my punishment for settling with men I knew deep down were damaged and would do me harm? Settling with less because I didn’t think I deserved more? Never again. If I survive this, no one will ever be able to offer me anything that I can’t provide myself.

What Would You Do?

Would you say something?

When my boyfriend attacked me, I screamed as loudly as humanly possible knowing all of the windows were wide open. No one knocked on our door or even called the police. When I went outside and was talking to the police on the phone, my neighbors came out to do 'stuff.  They fiddled around with 'stuff' (gawking at the car accident syndrome,) but not a single one would look at me let alone ask me if I was ok.

For better or for worse

Some of the old sayings are true.

You know the old saying 'will only get worse before it gets better.' That one is true.
How about 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'
Maybe that one was born from the first one.



Maybe I attract it. Maybe I am simply a doormat with pop up steel teeth. Maybe it’s just the people themselves that I put myself around and find myself socializing with. Either way I’m tired of it and I’m tired of being the ‘better person.’


After nine pm at night all chores are expected to be done and the house clean and tidy as if the house was available for an Open House. More than three hours prior to this Trauma Queen had left her half eaten grilled cheese sandwich on the table along with a empty bowl of soup and a finished cup of coffee. All this I threw away. If she left it on the table prior to leaving she did not want it. Trauma Queen – a very much well earned title by now, was looking for someone to shoot her anger at after being at the hospital, again. I as I almost always am was at the kitchen table on my laptop. I should have heard the spooky monster hunting theme music the moment she stepped through the front door.


To make a long tirade short she went on and on about her thrown away grilled cheese sandwich and how violated she was - I admitted I threw away her stupid sandwich. When I ignored her hissy fit she stirred in a bit of drama to the trauma by saying that I told her a staff member told me to do it and lying her – why? Why in the world would anyone lie about something so trivial and why in the world would anyone make such a big deal over a grilled cheese sandwich?


One thing led to another and into the 15 minute loud rant I had enough and went to the attendee present. I honestly told her that after the day I had and a week of having to listen to her rant on and on I was not capable of putting up with any more of her drama. The attendee really should have listened to me.


The “House Meeting” was nothing more than the next episode of The Trauma Queen Bitching Hour.” Guest Staring ME – resident quite girl, closet bitch. Ten minutes into her rant and raving about me, calling me a liar, how she wouldn’t stand for it and how despicable I was I spoke up and verbally defended myself. I called her on each of her own lies about each and every resident, her drama and did so with everyone present. Then I let her verbally hang herself with her own words as she continued for more than twenty minutes to contradict herself.


No one but me went to bed immediately following the disastrous “House Meeting.” I don’t care what was said about me or even for me. I gave Trauma Queen a road to someone she could tell her two-faced lying secrets to and then deny she said any of them by accusing me as a liar. I let these people get too close to me. I am on my own and it is up to me to secure my own future. For the potential exception of my roommate I have no intension whatsoever to keep in contact with any of them.



Maybe a bit of fire is what I needed. Even though I still feel sick and a bit weak from an infection that I’m told could have easily turned into bronchitis, I went to the Job Center to apply for a government sponsored paid internship program… also sent some more resumes.

What is next? Will one of us be told to leave? I don't know. Due to Trauma Queen’s rash of injuries I find it very unlikely that they would send her somewhere else. This means me being the most easily place able, workable and self-sufficient would be the one to leave. For better or for worse - I’m outta here; it’s only a matter of when.


***************************

A favorite group of musicians I listen to when I'm in one of those moods.

Apocalyptica - Path





Apocalyptica - Hope

This is not a hotel

“Do you understand what a DV Shelter is?”

Too many people in the world assume the niceness of a person is a weakness…and sometimes it is. However, I for one am not weak. The newest member of the Bad Male Choice Club asked me about chores and I explained that each of us has a chore or two to do each and every night. The woman said

“But I don’t eat here and I work.”

Me: "You can do your chores before or after work.”

“I work very late.”

Me: “I’m sure that will be fine with staff if you do them a little later.”

“Who makes this list because I need to tell them I work.”

Me: “The staff. Even though you work you still have to do chores.”

She looks for help from the other woman (Spanish speaking only) and they converse.


Let me get this straight…

You believe that because you work you shouldn’t have to do chores? I had to quite a job I was hired for only a short time after getting it because I had to leave my abusive boyfriend and go to a shelter. So how badly were you “abused” that he won’t track you down at your job? If you have a job where he (or she) will not stalk you, than you have a way out of an abusive relationship and have no need for a shelter. That or you should be paying a small fee for staying at a shelter. The shelter is NON profit and there are a lot of fees associated with shelters...any house in general.

Being sick and a bit bitchy I want to tell this lazy bitch who even now is just sitting on the couch watching TV and not doing her fair share ....

"Hey, your not working now. Instead of enjoying all the comforts of free living, why don't you pretend not to abuse the opportunity you've been given and do your fair share of the household upkeep?"

Skid Row

The Dangers of Skid Row

This is where the transitional shelter program I will probably be going to is located.



"Rapist Kidnapping Homeless Women on L.A.'s Skid Row"
Published August 12, 2010 | Associated Press



LOS ANGELES -- Los Angeles police are looking for a man they say tied up and raped two women from Skid Row in the past two weeks.


A police statement says a middle-aged, balding man in a brown van gave a 37-year-old homeless woman a ride on Aug. 1, bound her with duct tape and then raped her repeatedly over the next three days before dropping her off in Koreatown.


Police say a man matching the same description picked up a 29-year-old woman on Monday night and offered her a ride to get food. The van drove to a McDonald's but when the woman refused to perform a sex act, police say the man pulled a knife, bound her with duct tape and drove to Alhambra, where he raped her.


Police say he threw her in a trash bin before fleeing.






I’m homeless, single, NOT addicted to any kind of drugs nor am I a single parent. Because I am not an addict, Spanish or Native American, a former prostitute or a single mom, I cannot find a transitional housing program anywheres else. I am educated, had a job and an apartment but have lost everything due to the recession and a bad boyfriend decision. But because I haven't severely screwed up my life with an addiction or whoring and because I don't want to pop out a kid just for the sake of government help there is no assistance for me.

If you really want to help homeless people who want help, donate money to transitional homeless shelters, donate your time in teaching your professional skills to residents so they can get a job and or hire homeless people in these programs.

Gotta Be Something

Addict, Ex-Offender & Prostitute Rewards

...and families... but mostly everything else.


Lighthouse
Mostly only addicts

Candelaria
Native American Only

Project Transitional Living Center
Families Only

Salvavtion Army Ventura
For hardcore / long term addicts & homeless

Turning Point Foundation
Mentally Ill Only

Hawks residence
Addicts

Alexandria House
Addicts & Families Only

House of Ruth
Addicts & Families Only

Salvavtion Army Westwood
Families Only

1st Step Trans Living
Drug Addiction Only

Friendship Shelter
Must be already working BEFORE allowed to enter program

Stephanie Shelter
Must be already working BEFORE allowed to enter program

American Family
Must be already working BEFORE allowed to enter program
or very strong current work history judged by their opinion of what a strong current work history is.

Wise Place
Native American Only

Illumination
Families Only

Mary's Shelter
Young & Pregnant / newborn

Mercy Shelter
HIV/Aids Only

Casa
Young & Pregnant / Newborn

H.O.M.E.S.
Mentally Ill


FYI

Addiction IS NOT a disease.


Disease
dis·ease (d-zz)
n.
1. A pathological condition of a part, organ, or system of an organism resulting from various causes, such as infection, genetic defect, or environmental stress, and characterized by an identifiable group of signs or symptoms.


This is only a partial list as an example. Approximatively 6 out of 10 are only open to drug or alcohol addiction, single or family. The list doesn't include the ones I didn't call because the website said they only accept addicts, ex-offenders, prostitutes and or long term (mostly unchangeable) homeless.

Single women....
If you want help get an addiction. Otherwise buy yourself a vibrator and do without (abusive) men!

One Step From Broken or Hopeless

When neither is a good choice, what to do?

When I left the abusive situation I thought I was taking the first step towards truly changing things in my life for the better. I didn’t realize that changes meant changes rather they were good or bad. 

I’m now told that I have to go wherever they (shelter) recommends me or a place I find on my own. The only place my “case manager” (who really hasn’t done anything at all) has referred to is more a homeless addict shelter then a transitional house for women. The shelter is loosely a dorm style building that houses dorm rooms next to each other with a flimsy not locking wood panel between the women’s and the men’s room.

Hell, I’m not too keen on being around men at all but know I have to be somewhat flexible. However what sense does it make to put anyone who is from a domestic violence situation and put them around people who are violent, has a history of violence or is potentially violent? If I was to continue living with even one addict I would have stayed with my ex where I lived in middle to upscale neighborhood. I didn’t leave it to live with more than one addict in a dorm room with 10 other women (also addicts) and a flimsy divider to male addicts.

If I was homeless and only homeless I would not question it. However I came from a domestic violence situation with an ex who is an alcoholic and my previous ex before him was a drug addict. The LAST thing I want to be around is current addicts, not really recovering and brand new recovering male addicts. 

In addition....

No kind of pain medication at all, ever and for any reason including OTC meds. They will not even hold them for you in case you need something - zero intake. 

No laptops

No cellphones

No electronic communication gadgets at all.

All communication must be done through the office in the supervision of the shelter staff. 

WTF!?

Fucking Bullshit

Addicts are being rewarded for being addicts! For every one women’s shelter for domestic violence there are five addict shelters. I was turned down from a woman’s DV transitional shelter because I wasn’t an addict of any kind. So those of us who made bad choices for partners but didn’t pollute our bodies are being punished while those who dived into addiction and ruined the lives of their partners, families, friends and children are being rewarded with an abundance of free services. 

I'm step away from 

• Homeless
• Living with unknown dangers of homeless addicts
• or going to CL and choosing a new but different domestic violence situation

No matter which way I currently go I'm fucked. Where can I get a bag of speed and a straw? 

To add insult to injury she said if that shelter doesn't work out "we'll have to find you a room to rent."

...and who will pay for that? I don't have a job, I don't qualify for GR or SSI, the shelter won't provide bus tokens and I've already applied to every business with 2 miles of the shelter (walking distance) and not one has called or emailed me. HOW am I to pay the rent?

The bitch actually told me to have a good night before going home to a place that she knows she will be at until SHE chooses to move. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

I should have stayed with my ex, bought him booze to drink himself into oblivion, give him sleeping pills to sleep and found reasons not to be home. When staying put with an abusive partner is better than going to a domestic violence shelter you know the world is truly fucked and Hell IS Earth.

Isn't this suppose to be a safe place?

Late in the evening and early in the morning is the only time it's quiet. So I like to take advantage of those times to watch TV. I decided to check the doors, not sure why but I felt the need to do so. The back door is unlock, the front door is unlocked, the window is open (no screen)... isn't the point to a DV Shelter safety?

There is no structure at all and those two women are making me real nervous with their "it won't happen to me here," attitude. 

Addiction

I need a place to get it out of me. I’m not expecting help or advice as that is not why I’m blogging. I’m doing it because where I am currently at there is no support of any kind… and if I don’t find a way to at least get frustrations out and released I swear I may go crazy; literally.

I have been in and out of shelters, domestic violence situations and DV shelters since I was a teenager when my mom decided I was then a serious threat to her spotlight attention she received from my father and his locally well known clients. From there it got worse and I have been moving from one DV situation to another since then.

I do have an addiction. I’m addicted to abusive men and I want to get rid of it once and for all. I lost control so long ago (if I ever had control) and I’m tired of it. I’ve finally had enough and am completely starting over from scratch. All but a few boxes of my possessions which are in storage are gone and truthfully, I don’t care.

What hurts more is that I have lost (if I ever had one) what other people take for granted - family. My career skills are at least three years behind what they should be and I can’t get a career position any longer; I’ll be getting a job. But I’m learning to appreciate the value of starting over...it’s a new start and no one starts in the middle.

The only other woman in the shelter who is in the same situation as me is a graduated psychologist in her country…and now she’s applying for the same jobs as me. She has truly helped me see how lucky I am and how lucky Americans in general are. We Americans have so many resources available to us where as in her country there is practically none. In her country her choices in these types of situations is to ether endure the abuse or move to the streets. So while I am not receiving the assistance I was hoping for I am in a decently safe location. It’s now up to me to do the rest on my own.

It's not all sisterly love 

One woman here is the poster child for White Trash. She has been here only a little more than a week and she is already seeing some guy locally that she met at court. Real romance there, she met him while he was waiting for a probation violation. Afterward court for both of them (she was there for a name change,) he let her drive his expensive sports car.

Paraphrased from what Trauma Queen (how I am referring to her) told us of her exciting day and happy news :/

He drove her to some out of the way spot, got drunk and she had to walk back to the shelter because she didn’t trust him to drive her back to the shelter. Now she is complaining about the pain in her knees from walking up & down hills in stilettos. Later she told us about her boyfriend who is in jail but gets out on her birthday. She can’t wait to finally see him again as he is her savior for beating the crap out of her husband and went jail for it for a year for her. But that’s ok because she says that domestic violence shelters provide the best food she ever really eats.

Though I do see the negative influence the mother has on her son, he is actually very smart, sweet and has community togetherness that surprises me. I hope when he grows up he grows better for the experiences he's been through and will continue to go through. There are other stories here in this shelter that I've experienced in under one week, but not nearly as “entertaining” as that woman.

I can’t help but wonder… do some (not all) of us who have ended up in domestic violence shelters deserve what happened to us?