Delusional paranoid but not domestic violence

Bad habits are hard to break. I befriended Special K in hopes that if I did she would loosen up. She did until she became a delusional paranoid...but after she dressed extremely sexy, flirted with almost every single good looking man, sexually came on to two members of the band and stayed until after the band stopped playing in hopes of getting at least one phone number. So let me back up a bit....


Special K asked resident (a) and I to go with her to see a band. When we were getting dressed up to go Special K asked me to take a photo of her. This turned into a silly photo shoot using my camera phone. no biggie, just a few silly pictures. At 9 I was ready to go because I wake up early to go job hunting. However Special K was having too much fun dancing like a stripper so she said she would walk home alone...so be it.

A couple of days later I mentioned that I needed to come up with a new blog that was personal that I could use for my resume (blogging jobs.) Special K came to me and said she had an idea for me to use as a blog topic. We talked about it where each of us contributed ideas on what it could be about. I came up with the idea of women posting stories about anything at all but the common dominator being that all posting would be women from domestic violence experiences, not writing stories about domestic violence just that they had that one common trait. Special K asked questions and the conclusion was that it wasn’t a good idea because it was too difficult to do.

After the conversation I went to my room to get dressed and ready to leave for job hunting. I went into the kitchen and Special K immediately verbally attacked me accusing me of posting things about her online, demanding I remove things I had said about her online, telling me I did not have her permission to talk about her online and then demanded I delete the
photos I took of her.

I repeatedly told her that I have never posted her pictures online and hadn't even uploaded them to email to her (as she requested.) I told her I would delete the pictures and said she can watch me delete them. She continually told me to remove anything I said about her online and I did not have her permission to talk about her ect…


When we went to my room I handed Kelly (opps) my phone so she could delete the pictures herself…which she did and deleted personal photos that were not even taken in the city of Los Angeles. I then showed her that I deleted the photos not only of her but of all of us as well. She repeatedly asked me if I had uploaded her pictures to the internet and I told her over and over I would show her my email account to prove nothing but that the other resident's pictures were emailed from that night.

Then she questioned me about having photos of children in my phone (the ones she deleted). At that point I got severely defensive and said those photos were of my friend’s kids and she had no rights what so ever to tell me what pictures I
could not have.

From there it only escalated... when I got home she played the wounded 16 year old. After five minutes too many I told her to take it to the staff, which she did. When I followed to talk to staff she accused me of stalking and chasing after her, bashing the office door in (I refused to let it be slammed in my face by her) and then said I was preventing her from leaving the office because I was in the doorway.

Tonight I refused to change my routine and did as I always do after a day of job looking... got my laptop and went to the dining hall to watch tv and research work (resume) related blog information. She immediately cried to the staff about how unfair I was to be using my laptop in her presence. Complained and bitched so much that the staff member finally came to me to go to the office to use my laptop. At first I said she needed to grow up and deal with it. But I could see how frustrated she was with Special K so I relented. Apparently she had ranted and complained for well over 30 minutes. That was how long I was watching TV before she came to me. She also took me aside and kindly asked me to try and stay on this side for a while to give her space. We both know it’s not fair to me but one of us has to give in and be sensible and it isn't worth a fight for me so... here I am in the office space. But I'm going back and Kelly (opps) can just throw her hissy fit until she explodes...as long as I don't have to clean it up.


One thing I have learned from this experience is that not all of the women who go to DV Shelters belong here. They may be fucked up basket cases but that doesn't mean they deserve to go to a DV Shelter. If I had to live with Special K I would do heavy drugs too. Then again there is such a thing as an eviction process...the drugs are easier.


The sad truth is that she is jealous. My roommate and I get along really well (hmm maybe I’m not such a bitch) and we spent last laughing so hard we were in tears. We saw her walk back and forth outside our window at least twice. We’re in a separate building so we only go inside the main building for the kitchen and meals. Since this begun Special K has tried to cozy up to my roommate who wants nothing to do with her because she is creeped out by the overly friendly (desperate) attempts at friendship with her. She doesn’t like to be touched and Special K literally forces herself onto her and hugs her…or tries to. Now my roommate is timid of even going to the kitchen without me. Grrreeat. :/

Vampiric 4 Square

I never was good at 4 Square.

Subject D was forced to leave by police escort. Subject (Special) K freaked out at 3 am and said that Subject D was about to burn the house down if we all didn’t die of gas poisoning first. I was asleep so I don't know what happened. But since there had been previous complaints she was escorted to a facility more equipment to manage her needs.

That same day Special K threw away ALL of the leftover food (only a day or two old at most) in both the refrigerator and freezer as well a huge basket of vegetables. Her undeniable explanation was that the refrigerator was filthy therefore everything that wasn't sealed in a commercially purchased container and date with a well defining 'Still Good' date was disgusting and no good. Almost half the food supply is now gone.

I think this chick is bi-polar. I’ve known a couple of bipolar and high anxiety types and she exhibits similar traits.

I had to go through items I purchased and circle the words “Refrigerate After Opening,” because she has placed perishable items in cabinets instead of leaving them in the refrigerator. She is very much like me ex. Finds something to complain about every single day and there is always more then one thing that isn’t done or isn’t done the “right” (her) way.

She watches daytime talk shows all day, her opinion is the only one that makes sense and she dates only cholos…am I spelling that right? A Cholo?

Urban Dictionary:

1) cholo
...typically dresses in chinos (khahki pants), a wifebeater ...


2. cholo
buy cholo mugs, tshirts and magnets
1) Mexican Gangster 


2) Mexican Gangster Style
1) "My homeboy got shot up but some cholos from Norte...


3) ...This look is subject to change as gang-culture evolves. 


buy cholo mugs, tshirts and magnets


And I thought I dated fucked up men / rejects.


 But I’ve figured out a secret about her. If no one is in the room with her… if you don’t pay attention to her she turns off her vampireic energy feeding.


But all of that doesn’t matter. I’m back to square one. Transitional housing programs are full and in two to three weeks I will yet again be at the “you're not an (addict, single mom, XXX), you don’t qualify” stage. Because this is my second cycle there are even less choices. In addition, they do know about the last shelter and yet I’m still here. They could have rightfully asked me to leave at any time. But regardless, there is no place to go. If I don’t find a job soon I’ll be right back to Skid Row, homeless shelters or asking my ex if I can return. He would love to gloat over me and tell me how much of a failure my “little independence stunt” really was. In other words, I have no place to go, again.