…And we wait

I called the safe house again today to see if there was a spot available. Unfortunately, no. Not yet, at least. I guess I had my hopes up since the place in the next county was ready to take me on the spot until they realized I wouldn’t be able to actually get around, which makes me wonder how a partially government funded program can have a home that isn’t handicap friendly?

I digress. What you might be wondering is why I don’t just call the organization I was referred to outside my area? Well, I would, but I have some special needs. Aside from not having transportation, I have my therapist and doctors nearby. I can’t simply pick up and find new doctors. My disease is rare and I’ve managed to educate my current doctors enough for them to be helpful to me. That took a lot of time and work. It would be more than inconvenient to relocate. If I can wait it out a little longer, I should. I really should.

I am a bit concerned with this game plan. I’m having to hold it in and take the screaming and lectures and correction. It’s making me irritable to the point of wanting to snap at everyone. I want to tell everyone off and make them feel as bad as I do. This isn’t like me and I don’t like it. I feel so low and helpless and I question if what I’m doing is completely stupid. I’ve finally let myself acknowledge this abuse for what it is after many years, yet I’m still allowing myself to take it.

I just really feel for this to go well,  for me to go to a safe house and stay until permanent housing comes through, I should stay local and not upset even more of my life. I expect even being nearby, I’ll struggle with my decision, so why make it harder on myself?

I’ll stay as long as I can and I pray that I’ll have a place to go within just a week or two. I need this to work. I really, really need this.

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