This has been a horrible week. Harassed by a bunch of teenagers next door, Mexican guy jumped in my face, and now I've encountered the traffic of drug abusers/sellers up and down the stairs above me. What a joy to move into! This, of course, says I'm not in a safe place. Should have took the hint Christmas when someone tried to break in my door.
My nerves are shot. I'm sick. The vasculitis in the veins on the side of my head has returned. Last time it caused a ministroke. And I have nowhere to go and no one to help me. I'm so tired of living in this horrible town.
Imagine being alone, no family to call when you need help, no one to defend you when you're in danger, calling the cops....no point in that. They have to have "reason" to go in and it has to be their definition of reason.
Tonight I watched the bunch from upstairs open the trunk, pull out the inside compartment, remove whatever they were hiding, pour water all over the ground to wash away what spilled. Yep, in drug central. The guy who is renting has a clean record, but the people who are his "friends" obviously do not. Why does it take four people to go to a car trunk TWICE and come back with "nothing?"
There were so many cars from that apartment that the lady who helps me on Friday couldn't find a place to park. They took mine, too.
Tell the office? Are you kidding? He has a clean record. No way she will investigate. So do I stay in this mess and continue to get sicker and sicker from the stress or move yet again? Where do I go? I need someone to help me, someone here. Someone who knows the condition I'm in and know the more stress I'm in the more ill I'll become. I guess I need someone to care enough to DO something.
The car I saw with the trunk.....let's start keeping records now...plum color Chevrolet Malibu Tag AL 38C10C6. Came from Gary Russ in Greenville, S.C.
Thursday night I interupted three guys ordering drugs as I walked to the mailbox. Stopped to asked if they lived there. "No no no!" The one guy nearly jumped out of his skin. So I made him more jumpy by standing there. They said their "Friend" lived in the apartment upstairs. White Maxima 35 XE, FL tag 004 1GX.
Helped to keep notes the last time I had to live around drug addicts. Took them with me when I headed to the police station even though the police didn't do anything.