The Flupentixol has kicked in thank goodness, I’m at least ticcing less but I still haven’t found somewhere to live, I’ve trailed around estate agents offices, ploughed through the internet, seen advert after advert reiterating the same mantra “NO PETS, NO SMOKERS, NO DSS” The cats and smokers are negotiable and housing benefit (DSS) isn’t, you got that, we don’t want your sort around here. As each day passes in the intrusive thoughts that torment me I see myself camping out indefinitely, prizing coverings from windows and doors (although I’m beginning to suspect that the landlords that do accept DSS (housing benefit) have done this already and showering at the local swimming pool.
I have been to see some places, most out of budget, others within (just about) with these properties at least come caring neighbours “pssst…come here…..pretend you’re not talking to me…….it’s a s***hole, it’s a mess, the backdoor’s hanging off and the toilet’s blocked…they had new born twins in there and he (landlord) wouldn’t lift a finger” (It turns out this woman’s daughter rented this particular house before the previous tenants were forced to do a midnight flight) She was right. I tested the said toilet, I couldn’t possibly use it, I just pulled the chain (attached dog lead). This house seems to be our best option at the moment. This where this blog post starts to turn into a homage to one of my favorite films, if you’re under 18 skip the video clips. I have over the last couple of days had scenes from “Trainspotting” go through my head and wonder if Francis Begbie (violent, sociopathic character from said film) jump out of a cupboard at me. Sadly I couldn’t find the clip, but if you see this and then you might remember. (Clip suitable for adults only)
youtube.com/watch?v=Ag1khUX...
There’s not a lot that can be done about my situation, the only option I haven’t yet tried is to walk around Nuneaton with a sandwich board stating that I need a home. I’ve tried the council, I look in the local papers, and I’ve been spreading the word about and quizzed random strangers.I’ve scoured Gumtree on a twice daily basis and placed a wanted ad. You might expect housing problems like this in the south of the county where you have the tourist trap of Stratford –Upon-Avon and Warwick , the smart Royal Leamington Spa and the villages around but this is ex-mining country, it’s supposedly “cheaper” here, cheaper even than Coventry where you compete with thousands of students from Coventry University and Warwick University.
To say this is stressful is an understatement, without the aid of Zopiclone I basically don’t sleep this is the time when my tics explode and it feels as though the whole room is shaking.
I’m considering stretching my search now to Atherstone, Hinckley and Birmingham. This would mean moving to completely new places in different counties with different Mental Health Services. To be honest I’ve been to Atherstone once and Hinckley….never. Somewhere there must be a place for people on housing benefit, a little pocket somewhere where DIY skills and gas men are minimal and bookmakers and offies are common where we are welcome.
Just to finish off here’s a song (I nearly always have a song going around my head, sometimes apt, sometimes not). Again, this clip has pictures from “Trainspotting” so it’s for 18s plus only.
