The last year has been so unbelievably difficult…it’s been one thing that all of my regular social contact is through text, phone call and video call for two years, but that was getting me a long way. The friends I had made and been in contact with were so incredibly helpful and supportive.
But over the last year I progressively lost that and became more and more out of touch, and being in contact with those as well as people through blogging became less and less a part of my day, and consequently I suffered. All because I could no longer sit in peace at the computer because of the people stampeding in and out through the hallway all the time, as I described before. It honestly has defied words or believability sometimes, the level of commotion that has gone on.
I was unlucky enough to start with the one extremely heavy-footed housemate who brought friends round all the time, and they’d all stomp through the hallway in single file, then gallop up the stairs. And later gallop down as one unit, landing on the hallway at the bottom of the stairs right outside my door and running out the front door. It was insane. My whole room shook and it scared the crap out of me as it came out of nowhere each time. My nerves were often already frayed with OCD.
Another housemate joined that housemate in November last year, after the alcoholic zombie housemate finally moved out. As captured on my camera she would go in and out an extraordinary number of times during the day, each time with her heavyset boyfriend. They were never apart. My camera would show them hurrying off down the street, then a few minutes later they’d be hurrying back. Then two minutes later out again, and so on…once at three in the morning they were at it, doing this. It was insane (intentional repeat).
Then another housemate (the drug dealer) moved in but I never saw him except on my camera, and he rarely left the house. He seemed to keep to his room, until those first two housemates moved out following the eviction notice…then all hell broke loose. The drug dealer housemate immediately took on the role of being the stampy housemate, with suspicious looking friends round a lot, all moving through the hallway at random times like a freight train. It could happen at absolutely any time of the day.
Meanwhile the letting agent and landlord and various handymen resumed a flurry of activity after various housemates leaving and the house seemed to become a public house again for some months. That’s without even mentioning the hellish couple of months of crazy abuse from them, directed at me and resulting in my eviction notice of course.
Then there was the day a team of police came running through the house searching for a fugitive on the loose, and the street was taped off.
The result of it all was that more and more I could only take shelter on my bed and find things to do on my phone, whilst the OCD got worse. If I’m reading peoples’ blogs on my phone, I can’t write any considered response, so I mostly don’t. And then I don’t like to read without engaging. I limited it to times where I felt I could really help someone and got up to do it on the computer, and even then I was sweating and anxious and hurried.
Anyway, you can see how given that my computer was central to all of this social interaction that I’ve become more and more isolated. Crazy amounts of time goes by before I respond to people sometimes. Because I’m just fighting each day to do the basics and to self-soothe myself. There are multiple people I’d love to interact with more on here. Every post I wrote myself was an achievement.
This past year is all put into so much more perspective now since the drug dealer housemate has finally left. Notwithstanding the following police visits looking for him! The landlord has barely been round lately. For a few weeks now the house has been very quiet. It hasn’t been like this for two years. I’m starting to realise what I could now look forward to again in terms of emotional support. But that also makes it all the more stark what I lost. This thought was threatening to plunge me into existential crisis and rumination.
It’s been a hell of a blur of crazy experiences for me hasn’t it? I think back to the validating reactions of people here to my occasional posts about the individual absurd events, and I’m thankful for those people. I sometimes feel that I’m destined to enumerate through all possible life experiences. This amount of stuff could’ve easily been spread across a few lifetimes. I got my money’s worth but I also want my money back 😏.
I continually take much strength from my nearby friend who’s been going through her own version of hell, and her incredible resilience to make it this far.