well, maybe now there will be some help.
angie has jittered through many more of nancy’s clever ideas for harassment in a mere two months. one especially weird invention is for her to stand at her kitchen door with a lit candle in her hand at five in the morning, watching angie out in the dark while she pees her dogs. the endless inventions of the psychotic mind.
there’s been an increase in illness, illness due both to stress and lack of sleep. nancy will not let her sleep, not enough. she has autoimmune conditions, a couple of very painful ones, and they are flaring up. she’s taking too much prednisone. personally, angie doesn’t give a fig how much prednisone she takes, but the doctors do. they’re a pack of pansies when it comes to prednisone. and they don’t care at all that she’s willing to face the risks of the drug in order to take the worst edge off the pain. it’s not their pain, is it. anyway, something has to give, or she’ll end up in the hospital from the drug or from the diseases. and then there’ll be no one to take care of her animals. and then they’ll be taken away somewhere. and then angie has nothing to hold her to the earth.
her therapist has suggested to her many times that she move. the therapist is rather stupid, as most of them are in this county, and does not seem to grasp the woefully obvious obstacles to moving. angie is exhausted and in pain. she doesn’t have the physical stamina for moving. she has no rental assistance, and the amount she can afford to pay is tiny. and she has a lot of animals. finding a place — if she had the energy to look — where she could pay a pygmy rent and have her animals would be a yeoman’s work. but the therapist has said that the state department of mental health will help her find a place if she jumps through the necessary hoops to become one of their clients. looking back, angie realizes this was probably a lie designed to make her, angie, someone else’s problem.
at the time she doesn’t see this. she jumps through the hoops and becomes a client of the DMH. now she feels she has an ally. now she thinks that the landlord and nancy and anybody else cannot just do anything they want to to her, because now she has someone to advocate for her interests, to be on her side.
oh silly idiot, she thinks later, she thinks on a today far off from that march. oh silly idiot.
but here she is in that distant march, walking to her landlady’s office with a letter listing only the most egregious of nancy’s vicious tricks, and saying that these things are causing angie increased illness, and that she would like nancy to be spoken to regarding this behavior. she thinks that if the landlady evicts her because of this letter, the DMH will meet with the landlady and discuss things. maybe they’ll even find her a free lawyer. she leaves the letter with the secretary on march 20th.
on march 30th, angie gets a notice of eviction, delivered by a sheriff’s deputy.
all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2016 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.