God is out of the striking-people-dead business, obviously

I just got off the phone with my friend, Ashley, who is my primary in-home caregiver. She and I have spent the last 2 months desperately searching for a place for me to live since my landlord of 6.5 years is selling my condo out from under me. I have until August 31st to move, or he will evict me.

Ashley has been carrying a lot of the load because, due to my PTSD & depression, I've reached a point that I can no longer cope with the things going on. She talks to the people that would have me sobbing hysterically. She tracks things down, prints out things and a million and one other things I'm not physically or mentally capable of doing anymore.

Today, she called the realtor/property broker that my landlord hired to sell this condo. It was NOT a pleasant conversation.

This woman is a member of my church. She's been here, spoken with me and laid down a very thick layer of BS that cost me 3 weeks of searching. Lies like, "Don't worry, hon. I know every broker on the island. I'll get you a nice house with no stairs. You just sit back and I'll take care of it." I foolishly waited those 3 weeks, trusting this person because she's a member of my church. When I heard NOTHING, I finally called her and was treated with a good deal of cold, "I don't know what to tell you" blame-shifting. She can't help me, she tells me. She can't actually talk to me at all, but maybe I can talk to her husband." etc. She did add that she'd found this one place--for $950 per month (after I'd told her $600 is a hard stretch for me)--and if I can come up with the extra money, she'll get me right in.

Obviously, this woman is NOT living in the same reality that I live in. So, once again I explained that as a cripple on a fixed income of $1088 per month, I CANNOT afford anything beyond $600. Then came the "Well, it's not fair OF YOU to ask him to take so much less."

NOT FAIR OF ME!?

I told her, I'm not asking him. I don't even know who this person is and would NEVER ask someone to drop the rent that drastically. Certainly never a stranger. This was when she told me to ask the church to pay the extra $250 every month.

WHAT THE HECK!?!?

So, I explained to her that I was on the board of United Methodist Women for our church. I broke down exactly how much we raise a year, how we raise it and what every penny of that donated money goes for. THERE IS NO EXTRA MONEY TO PAY OUT EVERY MONTH. Period. She then told me to ask our Pastor anyway. As if I'd not just explained the entire financial structure of our church 30 seconds before.

I then explained to her that there were more poor on the island than there is affordable housing. The waiting lists for Section 8 island-wide (statewide, honestly) is between 6 months and 3 YEARS. You cannot just go fill out an application and move in. Even with 100% disability like myself, you go on the waiting list and wait. It's the same thing with HUD housing assistance vouchers. Only the wait is much longer. The HUD representative told me: "YEARS or NEVER" since everyone ahead of me on the waiting list has to leave the welfare/DSHS system before I can be considered.

That conversation concluded with a phrase I have come to hate and despise over the years, 'Well, I don't know what to tell you." She also added the oh, so Christian and loving, "But you'd better get busy looking for something."

Well, I would've been very busy if I hadn't believed her lies that she had it all under control and would call me when she had a place for me. That's the day I started looking everywhere in the area for a place to move. Nearly 2 months ago now.

That brings us to today--with a lot of blood, sweat and tears for Ashley and I as we've desperately scrambled to find a place, come up with all the necessary paperwork, application fees, etc.

This morning that same broker called and left a message on my answering machine. Apparently, my landlord wants to know "What's going on."

Well, as my friend Arlynda so wisely pointed out, it's not August 31st yet, so what business is it of his OR his broker?

Indeed.

Because I've gone way past my limit mentally, emotionally and physically, once again Ashley called on my behalf.

This woman was not only cold with her, but high-handed, ignorant and did not listen to anything Ashley tried to tell her. Ashley has NO problem speaking her mind, so I can only imagine how this phone conversation went. Ashley is the most loving and mothering person I have ever met. She's gentle, easy going and sweeter than you can possibly imagine. She'd give you her last slice of bread if she knew you were hungry. She'd walk 10 miles barefoot to fetch you a glass of water if you were thirsty. So, rest assured, the conversation was nasty if she came away wishing she could strangle this woman.

First this broker told her that she couldn't understand why I hadn't come up with the money to move into this $950 per month place. Why hadn't I asked DSHS for more money? (Shockingly, with $1088 per month, I make way too much to get financial assistance) Why hadn't I asked the church to pay the difference? Why hadn't I asked HUD for the money? Why haven't I gotten on the Section 8 waiting list?

Obviously, the broker NEVER listens to a word said to her.

Ashley then went into great detail explaining away all her idiotic misconceptions--funny how the wealthy always think things are so easy for the poor. The woman peppered Ashley with "why nots" and "well, she shoulds" as Ashley tried to make her understand that WE HAVE DONE EVERYTHING and there is still nowhere for me to go.

Then, this fine Christian sister of mine from my very own church tried to blame it all on me! Yes, unbelievably, I should have FOUND a way to get that extra money to rent this place that she and this mysterious unnamed man who owns it have been, "looking forward to having me move in to."

When Ashley blasted her for that comment, she turned it around and made it all the church's fault for not helping me. "I just figured the church would do much more to help."

She then informed Ashley--as if to a moron who has no concept of how this sort of thing works--that if I am not out by the 31st of this month, my landlord can begin eviction proceedings against me.

God help me. I am dead and this is hell. And it's filled with heartless imbeciles.

I wish this conversation had been recorded. I would go to church on Sunday and play it for the entire congregation. This is the sort of thing the church folk need to know about fellow members. She may be in church every Sunday, but nary a message has sunken in. She has absolutely no sense of reality.

This entire process has been like dealing with a psychotic person. You can talk all you want and explain everything in a clear and logical manner, but they simply can't hear your words.

I am beyond my wit's end. If I could say anything to both my landlord and that horrid broker, it would be this:

Even if I have NOWHERE to go, I will be out of this condo on August 31st. I am a law-abiding citizen. My number one rule of life is "BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD." I said I will be out and even if I have to sleep in the streets and spend my days sitting in the park, I WILL BE OUT.

I know God will make something beautiful out of all this, but it's so very hard not to be afraid.