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SLUMLORD LIVING; GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Believe it or not, I am typing this piece on a computer where twenty other human beings dwell! I have certainly had my share of difficulties derived from both mental and emotional strains. I have allowed myself, based on a series of bad decisions, to live in a house packed to the brim with bodies! Both male and female live in a house built in part to include three modest bedrooms. But guess what? That does not now nor will it ever deter a slumlord hell bent on making moneyto stop their shady practices. I happen to live in the basement. The first thing you encounter is four bunk beds lined up next to each other. Forget any chance of privacy or the expectation that your belongings of any value might be safe. Each person is given a night stand and part of a closet to hang up your dress shirts. This co notates that you either are a bum from the streets and have no need for any other type of storage such as a dresser or that any extra possessions must be discarded. After getting over the shock of my new abode, I realized that their was a door in which connected from the basement to the garage! I peered inside and found that the land lord had completely changed it to living quarters. Please do not thing renovation from a garage in to a livable area! No! This was a case of simply taking four beds and lining them up side by side, throwing a dresser and lamps in for good measure and calling it a renovated space! I was speechless but was committed to this month. I went back upstairs and was shown the three actualbedrooms. One them, IM assuming was the master bedroom had four single beds crammed in. The second room was smaller and was fitted with two beds. The last room was furnished the same way with two beds as well.
Since I had already committed to this month, I had no choice but to grin and bare it. At the time I officially moved in. however, I had only met three out of the twenty people who lived with me at the time I was considering moving in. Larry, the Manager who gave me the initial tour, Nicki, who appeared to be a truly good person, and Janice, Nicky’s roommate and equally as warmhearted. Meals were also included in the rent, which meant most of the food stamps I received could be used to help feed my four-year-old-daughter who currently lived with her mother. The computer which I am using to post this blog is also included in the rent.
Unfortunately, I soon realized that this house was used to serve individuals who were duel diagnosis and some of which had some very serious mental illnesses. I need to state now before you read any further that I myself had a severe Heroine addiction for twelve years and jumped from sober living house to sober house. I would get clean for a short period of time but then relapse again. Eventually the sober living house I was live in found out and promptly kicked me out. I was at my wits end and feeling helpless. In December of 2006, I was referred to a local methadone clinic. Everything changed after that, but with my income still recovering from years of Heroine use, I needed a place to lay low while at the same time providing me with a cheap residence.
I soon found out what the term dual diagnosis meant. The women who lived in the top floor turned out to have more mental problems than the men living below. From bi-polor to Schizophrenia, It became apparent that establishing any type of emotional attachments were slim to none. Besides, I planed to only live here for a month. It was more difficult than I thought though because some of the women did not take their medication. Nasty arguments developed between the females over the most ridiculous things. I was constantly made aware of allegations from one female that her lipstick or other cosmetics were missing and although she had absolutely no proof, would be quick to accuse a random tenet of the supposed theft. The accused, obviously surprised, would defend herself the best she could. Verbal accusations would move quickly to physical altercations as the accuser laid a right hook to the accusers face. The spectators of the fight would then be forced to physically break it up. Full blown drag out fights were almost a daily occurrence although conflict rarely transformed to a physical fight.
The meals in which were advertised as being apart of the rent were also very problematic. The manager did not physically live on site but provided enough food for meals to be made. Pam, a tenet and the person designated to cook the meals often did but refused to cook for the people whom she believed wronged her. This was definitely not part of the plan. I would see some people who did not have the skills needed to cook, go hungry just because Pam believed they were somehow against her.
If for any reason someone like a neighbor reported this house to the Housing Development Department or even the fire Marshall, they would close it down in the time it takes to snap your fingers. For example, the landlord build a stairway from the kitchen down to the back yard. The problem was that the wood used was cheap pine. It was my second day at this house when I witnessed a tenet walking down the stairs to go downstairs. She made it halfway down when the stair she was under completely gave way and down she went! If I had to guess, she fell ten feet to the hard pavement below. After being rushed to the hospital, Janice was extremely lucky to only have suffered from a sprain. If she had fell only a foot to the right, the grill would have caught her fall and could have possibly broke her neck! The following week, I saw the owner and his assistant remove the debris along with all of the affected stairs. I know that the cheapest wood will be used again.
If the owner and landlord, after knowing that one of their tenants experienced such a dramatic event and walked away with only a sprain made the collective decision to demolition the remainder of the standing stairs to be replaced with the more expensive but almost break proof Oak or Spruce, I would have respected them a lot more. The fact that they chose not to however but instead used the same cheep wood in which prompted Janice to fall, compelled me in part to post this story. Ive lived in many places with the goal to move on to a better place while beating my own addiction. Sure Ive encountered Slumlords along the way. This is the only place Ive lived that is so obviously a house where the only objective is for the owner to make money.
I live in a house that the manager calls Friends Helping Friends. Unfortunately, her spirit of healing the individual from drugs or managing their mental illness through making sure they take their medication while living in an environment that is nurturing and forgiving. This is a great mantra to live by if it can be achieve. The sad reality is that this model has failed terribly!This house is far from nurturing and with daily fights in which are instigated by the very people who are supposed to benefit from this model, forgiveness is the farthest for anyone’s mind.
Please feel free to share any story you may have. I know I’m not the only one with horror stories.
Jason Nelson. jasonlouisnelson25@yahoo.com 619-634-5038
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