Love Thy Neighbor…

Over the last several months since a single father and his teenage daughter moved into the other half of my duplex, I have done everything I can to be a good neighbor and a good person to them. 

The daughter, Samantha, smokes weed. I told her when they moved in that I don’t have a problem with her smoking weed, but it makes me violently ill and I asked her not to smoke inside the house because we share a ventilation system. 

Even when I realized that her father was dealing drugs, I still didn’t call the landlord or the police. I should have, but Samantha is an intelligent girl who was accepted into college at only 16 years old and I didn’t want to screw that up for her. She has a full scholarship. She also been abused her whole life and seriously deserves a break. She’s not perfect. She is quite an angry and sometimes violent person, as well as a bit of a brat. But she has been through hell in her life and this was her chance to build a better life for herself. 

Repeatedly, she has continued to smoke weed in the house and I have had to talk to her and explain over and over that I’m allergic and it makes me very sick. I usually talk to her and she agrees to smoke outside and that’s the end of it for a while. 

Then on Thursday I came home to find my house filled with weed. I immediately got sick, but I was also absolutely livid. I try not to talk to people when I’m angry, especially that angry. I waited until I’d calmed down a little and then I approached Samantha alone. I calmly stated that I have asked her multiple times very nicely not to smoke inside because it me makes me very sick. She replied and said she didn’t care and this was her house, too, and she would smoke inside if she wanted to. I told her that the landlady doesn’t even want cigarette smoke in the house, let alone weed. I made it clear that if she couldn’t respect my one request for my own health, I would be forced to call the landlady. 

She continued to smoke weed inside all night. I shut my air vents and turned off the AC, but it barely helped. She was smoking so much! I locked my cats in one room that smelled the least like weed. I was so sick that I was shaking, dry heaving and crying. I had to call the landlady. I was up all night sick. 

I was just starting to stop shaking at 10:00 the next morning when Samantha decided to smoke in the house again! In addition to being sick, I then started to panic. My reactions to marijuana is extreme, which is why I say I’m allergic. I’ve never been tested for an allergy to it. I don’t see how I could go to a doctor and request a weed allergy test. I have been hospitalized for it before, though, but I was too out of it to be able to tell the hospital that it was weed that was making me that way. 

The landlady called the police and I talked to them. I explained how it makes me sick and that I really didn’t want this girl’s future ruined over weed, but that I cannot physically tolerate it in my house. The cops arrived at 2:00 in the afternoon and the neighbors had still not stopped smoking it. In fact, despite the cops knocking on their door, they refused to answer the door and smoked their weed from 10:00am to 3:00pm. The cop could smell the weed at the door. He asked if he could come into my side of the duplex and I allowed him. He smelled the weed coming from the vents when I opened them. He stuck around for over an hour, but no one answered the door or came outside.

Samantha had left around noon, but her friend stayed in the house and continued smoking. Even her mother had been smoking in the house. The cop told me to call the police every time they smoke inside and hopefully if there are police at their house every day, they will stop smoking inside. 

Samantha’s father doesn’t want to get evicted, so he is angry at Samantha and angry at me. He hasn’t spoken to me since the police came. They called him when they were here. He has been at home since then, though, and hasn’t allowed anyone to smoke to inside. 

Last night, Samantha stood outside my bedroom window at midnight and screamed for 20 minutes about not being allowed to smoke inside. I considered calling the police again because I know this girl can be violent, and her father is a drug dealer, and they all hate me right now. I didn’t call, though. I still don’t want to get her arrested. 

I got no sleep again last night, but at least it wasn’t because of weed making me violently ill. 

Since all of this started, I have been afraid to live here alone. My friend, Sophie agreed to stay with me for a little while, and this guy I’ve been talking to about renting my spare room said that he can move in next month. The landlady is concerned for my safety, too, and even offered to let me move into her house until this is over. She is trying to evict them. I’m scared to leave my cats here, too, though. Sophie staying here is helping me a lot. I know my cats and my house are safe while I’m at work. 

I think I have been more than reasonable with my neighbors, considering all of their illegal activity. I think if you can’t smoke weed respectfully, to the point that you will endanger someone’s health, you are acting illegally. Similarly to someone who drives drunk and endangers people’s safety. I would never have called anyone about her smoking weed if she could respect my one and only boundary that is for my health and well-being. 

 

So that’s where I’m at right now. It’s not over yet. 

Advertisements

The Gauntlet Challenge- Day Twelve

I am quite sick, so I spent the day in bed. All I managed to do was fill out and send my transcript request to my old college. I got it done just in time before the mail carrier arrived. 

I was very careful filling out the request. I have such a bad cold. I didn’t want to spread germs onto my request. I washed my hands thoroughly, sneezed and coughed into tissues far away from the paperwork, and sanitized my hands after everything. I was proud of myself for keeping all my germs away from the paperwork. 

But then I licked the envelope. 

Oops. 

Illness?

I feel like its been a lifetime since I posted last. Everything feels slower for me lately, though.

I’ve been ill, I guess.

I’ve had some weird “symptoms” for a long time now, but lately it’s much worse. I’ve had things like lightheadedness, confusion, fatigue, excessive thirst and dehydration for at least a few years. Now it’s a hundred times worse and interfering with my job.

I love my job and I love the people I work with, but I haven’t been able to do my job properly lately and my coworkers are understandably frustrated with me. They’re not angry or mean, just overwhelmed with having to pick up my slack. I feel terrible and I spend every day apologizing and promising to see a doctor.

My friend, Katie, is taking me to a free clinic tomorrow. I’ve spent the majority of my life talking to doctors and they don’t listen and don’t care, so I have little faith in them now. Katie promised to get me help. She promised to make sure the doctors listen for once.

I’m so weak that even holding my phone right now feels like too much effort. Breathing feels like too much effort. Everything is so difficult and takes so long. It took me all day yesterday just to clean my kitchen. I had to keep taking breaks and I would doze off whenever I sat down. I slept 9 hours last night and 10 the night before, and my exhaustion is persistent still.

Everyone has suggestions for what might be wrong. I could be diabetic or hypoglycemic. I could be severely anemic. I could have a thyroid condition. On and on and on. I need real answers from real doctors.

Blurred vision, double vision, confusion, memory loss, exhaustion, dizziness, lightheadedness, excessive thirst, muscle weakness…. Doctors in the last five years have told me that I’m fine. I decided to listen to them and assume it’s in my head. But everyone who knows me, spends time with me, asks me what’s wrong with me. They all tell me to see a doctor. It’s not in my head. Something is wrong. And now my job is suffering for it.

I do everything right. I eat right, sleep right, exercise right, and nothing helps. I’ve had blood work done, last time was 2010 I think, and it always comes back fine. I’m scared to go back to a doctor again because if they tell me again that nothing’s wrong, I’m just kind of screwed. I’m scared that no one will be able to help me and I can’t fix this on my own. Clearly ignoring it hasn’t helped. Pretending I’m fine isn’t working anymore.

I don’t even care what it is anymore. I don’t care if it’s something serious. I just want answers and treatment. I can’t lose my job. I need to be okay.