Spitting Nails

I’m so angry I could spit nails.

Then God and Karma said, “Spit nails.”

And so I am. I do. I will.

Now.

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My day started with a long walk. Then as I worked, my roommate gave me a hard time about using up the ink in the printer for a 20-page document.

The ink I helped to pay for. The paper I purchased.

It was a passive aggressive comment. I didn’t laugh it off.

I walked away. I closed my door.

She sent me a message minutes later to apologize.

I didn’t reply.

I’m not there yet.

I took a shower. She tried to come in without knocking, then yelled at me.

Maybe I’ll be open to apologetic messages about printers and bathrooms tomorrow.

Maybe I won’t.

Maybe I’ve had it with altering who I am, what I think, and how I feel to accommodate someone else.

Especially someone whom I live with.

She did recently uninvite my cat Max from living here with me and her other three cats. Max has lived here for more than a year.

She told me to have Max declawed or for me to find (him) another home. She assumes my cat is the culprit of a tiny hole in the closet carpet.

A tiny hole in the community closet her cats also use. The closet with a door that she keeps open. The carpet that is 20+ years old. The flooring her three cats poop, pee and throw up on. Daily.

I’ve had it.

I’m not altering Max’s anatomy and surgically removing the tops of his fingers to make another human feel better about a really old and dirty carpet that I’m not even sure Max damaged.

What’s next, removing his teeth?

Then a bowel removal for her three cats?

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My guess is that she’s not upset with Max or the tiny hole. She is angry with me for giving her notice that I’m moving out.

I expressed why I’m moving out. She asked.

She won’t allow me space for food in the kitchen. She keeps opening my bedroom door. Often without knocking. Sometimes she’s even yelling before she does it.

I’m also moving out because she keeps going back to her hardcore drug use. She speaks incoherently sometimes because she doesn’t sleep. She gets drunk often and has fallen asleep while her cigarette is lit in her hand. She brings men home without notifying me they are here or coming. They come into the bathroom while I’m in there, too. Her men of choice are ex-convicts and drug dealers who knock on our patio windows late at night only to be welcomed in by her.

#sigh

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Then there was the appointment with my doctor of many years to ask for a letter to confirm with a new landlord that I need a support animal. My doctor said it’s her office policy not to write these types of letters because it makes my needs and care a legal liability for her business.

Turns out, I am a legal liability and to even my Psychiatrist. The one who I’ve been paying for years of care. The person who knows the most about my disability and needs.

I’m finding another Psychiatrist.

Maybe one who doesn’t tell me to lie to the government about my part-time job income, then tells me I am the legal liability.

It was a letter request that would have taken two minutes to do, but in my appointment she said that she won’t do these letters because she sides with the property owners. She believes it’s their right not to have an animal on their property, regardless of a disability need.

Denying someone a home because of their need for assistance is actually illegal according to HUD and the FHA.

What is tough too is having a mental health professional who sides with multi-property owners.

What many don’t know, that’s actually illegal. A housing provider generally cannot deny someone housing because they require an assistance animal as a reasonable accommodation for a disability.

They will cite the denial is for “other reasons” rather than allow a disabled person and/or service animal in a home. It’s not about allergies or even keeping the property clean, it’s about the possibility of being inconvenienced with their time = money.

*

Then I went to look at a rental house. The owner told my Mom and I that he won’t let me paint the walls white.

In fact, he won’t be painting at all. He wants the walls to stay a dirty cream color with cracks. The previous tenants who were there for 7 years kept it that way, too.

I said, “thank you. I’m good. Goodbye.”

My mother stayed and politely waited for him to tell her more. Then she took a rental application from him so that I would know what a rental application looks like.

*

Then came the call from a friend who saw my Mom at the rental viewing. She said she thinks my Mother may have Alzheimer’s. That she is forgetting things because she didn’t remember her from several years ago at church. That I should get her medically checked.

Seriously?!?

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I’m learning I’m not the only one with a disabled mind.

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I guess it’s okay for Christian people in our community to be forgotten.

To lie for money.

My Psychiatrist professes to being a Christian. She told me to lie to the government anyway.

Trump professes to be a Christian, yet he signed documents to pay his workers, then never did. That’s just one example of his many lies. Trump even assaulted women, yet he’s the President we voted in.

My ex-husband’s LDS Mother lied to her employer to get her daughter-in-law hired at the local hospital. After the daughter was hired (by her), they lied every day about even knowing one another.

Even my Mom and Dad lied to me, and they are a devout Bible-believers.

It’s a national trend to lie to get what we want.

Just little white lies, right?

No one gets hurt?

I do. I did.

I am.

*

So now I’m sitting here fuming. Why I ever leave my room is a mystery. If I didn’t need other people to function normally myself, I’d be a happy hermit.

*

Does everyone lie about something?

Is everything about money?

Is it about time?

Who is running out of time?

Where did all their time go?

Where is their money going?

Are all their “good” deeds actually going to buy them mansions and gold streets in a someday heaven?

Do they realize that disabled people often have no retirement, no investments, no home?

Does that even matter to them?

How much stress are they under that they lost the ability to be loving and kind to the disabled?

Are the disabled allowed into their perfect heaven?

Will any of our souls be disabled if there is a heaven?

Are us disabled people going to hell?

Is heaven itself biased toward perfect bodies?

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Too many questions, too much time.

I’m not sure anymore whether to ask anymore questions.

I don’t want to give these memories much of my time.

This isn’t a post about money or time. It’s about common human decency right here on Earth.

I hope someday AI do take over the planet. Maybe that will indicate Karma or God do exist.

Karma exterminates an entire human race by way of our own rapid, lying, sinful thoughts about the worth of our time and money during a rapid pace toward no finish line, except our own.

Keep running. I’m not doing that anymore.

I’d rather be homeless. In space. Like a star.

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