A year ago Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving before last) my landlady called the sheriffs and had me raided rather than give me notice. This was in Morongo Valley. It was a particularly malicious and premeditated act. I was put in jail and Lanny came up with $10,000 to bail me out on Thanksgiving day. When I got home the harassment began, Ms. Millard put a 3-day notice on my door and began beating on my windows and screaming “Get Out Of My House” and calling me a ‘faggot’.
The criminal charges were dismissed, the unlawful detainer she filed was dismissed and I couldn’t find anywhere else to live. She filed another unlawful detainer which the judge, clearly prejudiced, upheld.
Three days before the decision of the last unlawful detainer her nephew violently ran me from my apartment. He smashed my cassette recorder in the middle of the street in front of me. The sheriffs refused to do anything – they seemed to think I didn’t have a right to record him screaming threats, obscenities and faggot at me…
The Victors took me in and I was going to live with them. But after sleeping on a futon in the middle of the house for 6 weeks while there was a vacant room (my room?) upstairs – and paying rent for that, I had had enough. And you had to stop medicating when grandma enetered the room…which was generally about the time I actually began to accomplish something on my computer. And there was the pecking order…everybody’s wants and needs were more important than mine, no matter how trivial.
I called Jane and asked her to help me fix the situation with the Victors. Instead, she persuaded me to move back to the San Francisco area and stay with her.
The last straw with the Victors was when I went back with half a mind to try to work things out and was told Mike was moving in, and I had to stop working on my computer when he wanted to go to sleep at 10pm. So now they had managed to make sure I COULD NOT work on my computer for the entire day. I couldn’t even stay up late at night to get something done…I literally ran out of there screaming.
On the way up my car was totalled. Traffic on the 210 stopped. I was practically stopped, and a car came up from behind about 80 miles and hour and knocked a car into my sidepost at about 50-60 mph. I’m lucky to be alive. And the at-fault driver was a hit-and-run.
I drove what was left of the car back to Hayward.
Jane kept talking about these $1,000 deals she was getting on used cars from her mechanic. And a couple came along that I would have bought – but again, I was at the end of a long pecking order and others wants, no matter how trivial, came before my needs. So someone else got the $1,000 cars I would have paid good money for. So I didn’t have a car until November, after I moved in with Snickers.
Jane asked me to move in with her 22-year-old daughter as a favor. She thought I would be a ‘stabalizing’ influence. That’s when the Hell really began as this 22-year-old tattooed and pierced bulemic manic-depressive ‘showed me who was boss’ and made it abundantly clear I was a piece of shit and she was the Queen of Sheba. She had the gall to tell me she was sorry I didn’t like what they gave me, as she goes to party in her Mercedes…
…seems I was supposed to leave the apartment unlocked so her tweaker friend could come and go as he pleased and not worry about my medicine or anything else being stolen. My worries and my security were completely unimportant to the poor sweet little thing…
…it was truly a nightmare as she wantonly and consciously made my Thanksgiving and Christmass pure hell. Nor did the fact that the deadline for filing a civil suit against San Bernardino to, hopefully, stop their arrest and imprisonment of patients ended in December mean a damn thing to her, or anyone else, evidently. She was UNCOMFORTABLE and that was ALL that was important. Seems my job was to look for a place to live, and they all were going to make sure I didn’t do anything else. Six months of pure, expensive Hell. Oh, did I mention Snickers’ rent was $1000/month and I paid her $650.
True, Jane tried, really tried, to interest someone in the civil suit against San Bernardino; Bill Panzer, Fred Gardner, Americans for Safe Access. So, Snickers told me to move 3 days after I moved in and then Jane got deathly ill.
To make a long story short, at the last minute I found a listing in Santa Cruz on CraigsList, and moved in with Mr. James. I was looking for something near Hayward, but Mr. James made the offer so attractive I moved an hour away in Brookdale. So, for those of you just tuning in who haven’t had time to read and try to make sense of my website, that is how I ended up here.
It’s been fully eight years since Proposition 215 passed and I have spent every damn minute of it looking for a place to live, fighting landlords and being screwed over by them. And it has cost me everything I have, my disability settlement, the land and money my father left me.