Hello everyone
We, my two cats and myself are very happy and settled here in our nice flat, the rent's paid, all the bills are paid, I have broadband, an old but very reliable car, warmth, enough food and am easily working enough hours to pay for everything and still have money left over. Yes, things are looking up, so why am I afraid?
I'll tell you why, It could all come crashing down. Its happened before, made redundant and ended up homeless all in the space of a month. I am suffering from a severe case of the 'What if's'.
I'm afraid to relax and really enjoy myself because I know how quickly things can change. What if the landlord decides to sell? Or wants me out for some other reason, what if I lose one or more of the six jobs I'm doing and can't pay the rent?
I am working ten, sometimes 12 hours a day, seven days a week just so that I can have some money saved up should disaster strike again. I should be enjoying what I have, but my constant fear of becoming homeless again is stopping me from really appreciating and being able to enjoy what I have.
My novel, however is coming along in leaps and bounds and is almost finished, only two chapters to go, then comes the BIG edit. I have also written three short stories and sent them off into the world. Writing seems to be an escape from reality at the moment and allows me to think of something else and not obsess over my own fears. Also a couple of my jobs are office cleaning, where a brain is not required, this then allows my body to go onto autopilot and my mind to think over difficult plot ideas and new stories, so when I do finally get a few free hours here and there to do some writing, it's pretty much all there filed away inside my head, or on various bits of scrap paper screwed up in my pocket, or suffocating in the depths of my bag.
That's about it for now, but if anyone out there knows how to stop the WHAT IF syndrome, it would be very much appreciated.
Thursday, 21 April 2016
Thursday, 11 February 2016
A Home At Last
Hello everyone
I've done it, finally I have a home with my two beloved cats. It's taken six months and near extinction on my part, I've scrimped and saved, begged and pleaded and cried until I'm exhausted. It's very tiny, just a basement flat with three rooms, lounge/kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom, communal gardens with a concrete and dirt patch to call my own.
I received no help whatsoever from the council, simply stuck on the bidding system and left to get on with it. I have slept in my car next to fields, car parks and my daughter's floor. I reached breaking point. My cats were terrified of everything at my daughter's house; other cats, dogs, chickens, ducks and lived in the outhouse, they were cold and scared.
I am now working round the clock to pay for everything, but my cats are happy and settled; they love their new home as I do myself, I have started writing again, picking up my novel where I left off. Just re-reading it the other day I could see how low my mood had sunk, the writing was dark and depressive; I've deleted it all but not before printing it out as a reminder to how low the human spirit can go.
Eventually, on a friends advice, I went to the doctor and she prescribed citalopram, an anti depressant, it did ease my mood a little, but did not solve my problem; that was up to me. I am fearful of the future. What if my now landlord decides to sell this flat; I will be homeless again and I never want to go through that again....ever.
I sincerely hope no-one out there has to go through that; it is one of the worst feelings and situations in the world, nowhere to go and no-one to turn to. I hope you are all still writing and have had some success, until next time, good luck to you all. xx
I've done it, finally I have a home with my two beloved cats. It's taken six months and near extinction on my part, I've scrimped and saved, begged and pleaded and cried until I'm exhausted. It's very tiny, just a basement flat with three rooms, lounge/kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom, communal gardens with a concrete and dirt patch to call my own.
I received no help whatsoever from the council, simply stuck on the bidding system and left to get on with it. I have slept in my car next to fields, car parks and my daughter's floor. I reached breaking point. My cats were terrified of everything at my daughter's house; other cats, dogs, chickens, ducks and lived in the outhouse, they were cold and scared.
I am now working round the clock to pay for everything, but my cats are happy and settled; they love their new home as I do myself, I have started writing again, picking up my novel where I left off. Just re-reading it the other day I could see how low my mood had sunk, the writing was dark and depressive; I've deleted it all but not before printing it out as a reminder to how low the human spirit can go.
Eventually, on a friends advice, I went to the doctor and she prescribed citalopram, an anti depressant, it did ease my mood a little, but did not solve my problem; that was up to me. I am fearful of the future. What if my now landlord decides to sell this flat; I will be homeless again and I never want to go through that again....ever.
I sincerely hope no-one out there has to go through that; it is one of the worst feelings and situations in the world, nowhere to go and no-one to turn to. I hope you are all still writing and have had some success, until next time, good luck to you all. xx
Wednesday, 16 September 2015
Saved, Or Cursed To Suffer Longer
Hello Everyone,
I'v been at my daughter's now for over ten weeks with still no hope in sight. I am working every hour I can fit into a day, seven days a week and it's still not enough. I went to view a property in Southborough last week, just a one bed flat, but it had a small patio garden AND they would accept my cats; I couldn't believe my luck. All was going well until the estate agent asked about my work. Yes I have a fulltime job; 36 hours a week, that's good the agent said, but its made up of 3 part time jobs, that could cause a problem, she said. You need to have a fulltime job by a single employer so we can reference you easily; needless to say I lost the flat.
Last Sunday I was at my lowest point ever. I'd missed out on the flat and my spirits were at rock bottom, I cried for three days. All I wanted was someone to talk to, but no one was listening, so I took all my tablets in a carrier bag to an unfamiliar graveyard and prepared to end it, but I was stopped by the affections of a small black and white cat.
As I sat there on the grass I knew my kids would be okay; both the girls have partners to look after them and I'm sure they could both keep an eye on my son, so no problems there, Opening the first box I looked at all the small, white tablets and began popping them out of their blister pack when a very loud miaow and a furry body began curling itself affectionately around me. I stroked it and then proceeded to pop out the pills but the cat was having none of it, it wanted attention and it wanted it now. It purred and rubbed itself against me, licking my hand and then climbed onto my lap.
It was then that I remembered my own two cats; who would look after them when I was gone? They would be alone; probably put to sleep. What was I thinking? How selfish was I being?
After a while I slid the tablets back into the box and continued to fuss the little cat with tears streaming down my face, whether it was coincidence or the cat knew, I don't know, but that cat, whoever it belonged to, saved my life that day.
I'v been at my daughter's now for over ten weeks with still no hope in sight. I am working every hour I can fit into a day, seven days a week and it's still not enough. I went to view a property in Southborough last week, just a one bed flat, but it had a small patio garden AND they would accept my cats; I couldn't believe my luck. All was going well until the estate agent asked about my work. Yes I have a fulltime job; 36 hours a week, that's good the agent said, but its made up of 3 part time jobs, that could cause a problem, she said. You need to have a fulltime job by a single employer so we can reference you easily; needless to say I lost the flat.
Last Sunday I was at my lowest point ever. I'd missed out on the flat and my spirits were at rock bottom, I cried for three days. All I wanted was someone to talk to, but no one was listening, so I took all my tablets in a carrier bag to an unfamiliar graveyard and prepared to end it, but I was stopped by the affections of a small black and white cat.
As I sat there on the grass I knew my kids would be okay; both the girls have partners to look after them and I'm sure they could both keep an eye on my son, so no problems there, Opening the first box I looked at all the small, white tablets and began popping them out of their blister pack when a very loud miaow and a furry body began curling itself affectionately around me. I stroked it and then proceeded to pop out the pills but the cat was having none of it, it wanted attention and it wanted it now. It purred and rubbed itself against me, licking my hand and then climbed onto my lap.
It was then that I remembered my own two cats; who would look after them when I was gone? They would be alone; probably put to sleep. What was I thinking? How selfish was I being?
After a while I slid the tablets back into the box and continued to fuss the little cat with tears streaming down my face, whether it was coincidence or the cat knew, I don't know, but that cat, whoever it belonged to, saved my life that day.
Saturday, 22 August 2015
A Spark Of Hope
Hello everyone
It's been six weeks now, six weeks of hell. Thankfully my daughter and her partner have not thrown me out yet and I continue to sleep on her floor and in my car. My cats have kind of settled a bit, although Cobweb still refuses to set a single paw inside the house, but will sit, rather nervously on the garden table; taking his food alfresco. Missy will now come in for a little while providing the dog isn't around and is slowly getting used to the chickens, no longer running for her life when she sees them.
I have given up with the council and am trying to private rent, although even this route is proving difficult as I am only working part time, even though I have several part time jobs whose combined hours equal fulltime, but as they are not from one single employer, the estate agents are saying this will be a problem when it comes to credit and employment checks.
I went for a viewing today on a one bed flat, it is very tiny and quite gloomy but has a communal garden and will except pets, every property I have enquired about so far says no dss and no pets. I have been saving every penny and working every job I can get my hands on so that I do not have to rely on dss as this seems to be a no through road.
The estate agent said they will contact me on Monday, I am keep my fingers crossed although I'm not that hopeful as there were nine people ahead of me for a viewing and the estate agent said they have had five offers already.
This afternoon I sat in a field beneath the shade of a lovely big chestnut tree, took out my novel and after getting reacquainted, began to write. Either I am feeling better; I have shed enough tears to fill a bath over the last six weeks, or I have just become resigned to my fate. Hope seems to be my only companion lately and I cling to it possessively.
It's been six weeks now, six weeks of hell. Thankfully my daughter and her partner have not thrown me out yet and I continue to sleep on her floor and in my car. My cats have kind of settled a bit, although Cobweb still refuses to set a single paw inside the house, but will sit, rather nervously on the garden table; taking his food alfresco. Missy will now come in for a little while providing the dog isn't around and is slowly getting used to the chickens, no longer running for her life when she sees them.
I have given up with the council and am trying to private rent, although even this route is proving difficult as I am only working part time, even though I have several part time jobs whose combined hours equal fulltime, but as they are not from one single employer, the estate agents are saying this will be a problem when it comes to credit and employment checks.
I went for a viewing today on a one bed flat, it is very tiny and quite gloomy but has a communal garden and will except pets, every property I have enquired about so far says no dss and no pets. I have been saving every penny and working every job I can get my hands on so that I do not have to rely on dss as this seems to be a no through road.
The estate agent said they will contact me on Monday, I am keep my fingers crossed although I'm not that hopeful as there were nine people ahead of me for a viewing and the estate agent said they have had five offers already.
This afternoon I sat in a field beneath the shade of a lovely big chestnut tree, took out my novel and after getting reacquainted, began to write. Either I am feeling better; I have shed enough tears to fill a bath over the last six weeks, or I have just become resigned to my fate. Hope seems to be my only companion lately and I cling to it possessively.
Tuesday, 7 July 2015
Times Up, You're Out.
Hello everyone
The flat has gone, I am homeless. My daughter and her partner have been kind enough to put us up for a while and I am very grateful, although a little stiff and achy from sleeping on the floor, or rather lying on the floor as sleep eludes me, nothing but a couple of hours a night.
One of my beloved cats ran away on the first day (we've been here six days now) and I've hardly seen him since. He didn't come back at all for three days, but turned up yesterday in the garden crying, managed to get him to eat a little before he vanished again and my other cat is terrified of everything, the dog, the chickens, the kids and the other cats; she refuses to eat and spends her days hiding under the hedge in the garden, only coming in at night when it's quiet.
I am desperately searching for a place to live but there seems to be nothing that will consider pets or dss; I don't know what to do, I have lost everything. I am living hand to mouth, the things I need daily I carry around in my backpack and a small carrier bag, my novel is one of them, although I have written nothing. I am writing this in my car parked up at the edge of a field; I had to get away.
The council have confirmed my homelessness with a brief letter and marked me as band B, but nothing changes. I have not seen or heard from Dan, although I didn't really expect to. I don't know where I will be next week, next month or even tomorrow. My life is spiralling out of control and there seems nothing I can do to stop it.
The flat has gone, I am homeless. My daughter and her partner have been kind enough to put us up for a while and I am very grateful, although a little stiff and achy from sleeping on the floor, or rather lying on the floor as sleep eludes me, nothing but a couple of hours a night.
One of my beloved cats ran away on the first day (we've been here six days now) and I've hardly seen him since. He didn't come back at all for three days, but turned up yesterday in the garden crying, managed to get him to eat a little before he vanished again and my other cat is terrified of everything, the dog, the chickens, the kids and the other cats; she refuses to eat and spends her days hiding under the hedge in the garden, only coming in at night when it's quiet.
I am desperately searching for a place to live but there seems to be nothing that will consider pets or dss; I don't know what to do, I have lost everything. I am living hand to mouth, the things I need daily I carry around in my backpack and a small carrier bag, my novel is one of them, although I have written nothing. I am writing this in my car parked up at the edge of a field; I had to get away.
The council have confirmed my homelessness with a brief letter and marked me as band B, but nothing changes. I have not seen or heard from Dan, although I didn't really expect to. I don't know where I will be next week, next month or even tomorrow. My life is spiralling out of control and there seems nothing I can do to stop it.
Monday, 25 May 2015
Six Days And Counting
Hello everyone,
Just squeezing in a quick bite. After blind panic set in last time, I asked our landlord, no, begged him for one more month; to my amazement he agreed to let us stay until the end of May. Well the end of the month is almost here and still we have nowhere to go. I have searched every estate agent known to man but the cost of private rent for a two bed property is nearly £900 month and although I have bid on every property I can on the bidding system, we have not come within the top 20, even though we were told we are a priority, (I'm not sure what you have to do before priority counts for anything) dead maybe, at least then I'll get a nice quiet plot in a cemetery.
As for Dan, well, I have rang him eleven times in the past three weeks only to be told, he is still out of the office or otherwise unavailable. I have left messages for him but he hasn't bothered to get back to me, my next move is a sit in at the local council offices; well in six days time its not like I'll have anywhere else to go.
On the plus side, I have managed to get myself a part time job. It's only cleaning five nights a week for three hours a night, but it's better than nothing and gets me off job seekers. I was only on it for two weeks but the job centre is the most soul destroying place I've ever been to. They spoke to me as if I were a five year old, made me feel bad about myself (as if they could make me feel any worse than I already do) and asked me ridiculous questions like, can I use a computer, even though I had just put my CV on their site in front of them.
As I have a lot of time on my hands, (my job doesn't start until six in the evening) my novel is coming on very well, its finally taking on a proper shape, holds together nicely and is flowing, I think, better than ever, but the best thing about it is the fact that I am actually enjoying writing it and the end is in sight. I now look forward to picking up my pen and note pad and settling down to write, I actually get quite annoyed if something prevents me from doing it.
Well that's about it for now; I'm not sure what will happen by this time next week, maybe we'll get lucky and find the perfect home (I'm that desperate and scared I've even started praying) but wherever I am I will always be writing; after all this is over I may even get a good story out of it.
Just squeezing in a quick bite. After blind panic set in last time, I asked our landlord, no, begged him for one more month; to my amazement he agreed to let us stay until the end of May. Well the end of the month is almost here and still we have nowhere to go. I have searched every estate agent known to man but the cost of private rent for a two bed property is nearly £900 month and although I have bid on every property I can on the bidding system, we have not come within the top 20, even though we were told we are a priority, (I'm not sure what you have to do before priority counts for anything) dead maybe, at least then I'll get a nice quiet plot in a cemetery.
As for Dan, well, I have rang him eleven times in the past three weeks only to be told, he is still out of the office or otherwise unavailable. I have left messages for him but he hasn't bothered to get back to me, my next move is a sit in at the local council offices; well in six days time its not like I'll have anywhere else to go.
On the plus side, I have managed to get myself a part time job. It's only cleaning five nights a week for three hours a night, but it's better than nothing and gets me off job seekers. I was only on it for two weeks but the job centre is the most soul destroying place I've ever been to. They spoke to me as if I were a five year old, made me feel bad about myself (as if they could make me feel any worse than I already do) and asked me ridiculous questions like, can I use a computer, even though I had just put my CV on their site in front of them.
As I have a lot of time on my hands, (my job doesn't start until six in the evening) my novel is coming on very well, its finally taking on a proper shape, holds together nicely and is flowing, I think, better than ever, but the best thing about it is the fact that I am actually enjoying writing it and the end is in sight. I now look forward to picking up my pen and note pad and settling down to write, I actually get quite annoyed if something prevents me from doing it.
Well that's about it for now; I'm not sure what will happen by this time next week, maybe we'll get lucky and find the perfect home (I'm that desperate and scared I've even started praying) but wherever I am I will always be writing; after all this is over I may even get a good story out of it.
Thursday, 16 April 2015
Happiness Is ....A Pencil And Paper.
Hello everyone
Life doesn't get any better. We now have only 14 days left before we are officially homeless. The council won't help us until we have seen Dan the housing officer. We were supposed to see him on 17th March but he never materialised and we've not seen or heard from him since. Every day we visit the council offices but the elusive Dan is either out, on holiday or off sick; I'm beginning to think he doesn't exist. We even tried to private rent as there are still no council properties to bid on, but they want six months rent plus fees, which equates to about £6000. We asked the council for help, but guess what? 'You need to see Dan.'
On the plus side, my novel is coming on in leaps and bounds. Nine CV'S later I still have no job, but I do have a lot of free time and I think it is keeping me sane. (It's the only thing in my life I have control over) So far it's undergone a through rewrite and is, I feel in much better shape. My characters usually bend to my will, although one has gone off on a tangent and it's nice to know, that even if Janet is a fictional character, she's having a worse time than me but at least I can help her.
It's strange how things change, that novel used to drive me to the edge of insanity, but now it's the only thing keeping me sane. In two weeks time I'm not sure where I'll be, hostel, bedsit, living in my car or a cardboard box on the common, but wherever I am you can be sure my novel will be with me.
Until nest time .... if there is one, I wish you all good luck with your writing and your life as you never know what's around the next corner.
Life doesn't get any better. We now have only 14 days left before we are officially homeless. The council won't help us until we have seen Dan the housing officer. We were supposed to see him on 17th March but he never materialised and we've not seen or heard from him since. Every day we visit the council offices but the elusive Dan is either out, on holiday or off sick; I'm beginning to think he doesn't exist. We even tried to private rent as there are still no council properties to bid on, but they want six months rent plus fees, which equates to about £6000. We asked the council for help, but guess what? 'You need to see Dan.'
On the plus side, my novel is coming on in leaps and bounds. Nine CV'S later I still have no job, but I do have a lot of free time and I think it is keeping me sane. (It's the only thing in my life I have control over) So far it's undergone a through rewrite and is, I feel in much better shape. My characters usually bend to my will, although one has gone off on a tangent and it's nice to know, that even if Janet is a fictional character, she's having a worse time than me but at least I can help her.
It's strange how things change, that novel used to drive me to the edge of insanity, but now it's the only thing keeping me sane. In two weeks time I'm not sure where I'll be, hostel, bedsit, living in my car or a cardboard box on the common, but wherever I am you can be sure my novel will be with me.
Until nest time .... if there is one, I wish you all good luck with your writing and your life as you never know what's around the next corner.
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