Great, I finally found somewhere I could live that offered my own apartment paid for partly by the City and the Veterans' Administration. I was happy to get out of the Shelter environment and pleased with the timeframe. I was assigned a Case Manager from a program called "Community Building" and also a Case Manager from the VA. They made sure I got setup with another Veteran's Program to provide used furniture to furnish the apartment and they called it a "Project." It was definitely the Projects. It was not far from the 7th Street Phoenix VA, so if I needed medical attention, it was just a few steps away. There was another All Veteran apartment complex across the street, which looked like a nice place, but the Case Manager said it was Drug Infested.
I settled in and met with on-site Case Managers; so here we have a total of 3 Case Managers, all asking for Case Plans and Goals. I became angry simply because in this housing project; I was forced to answer to 3 different paid employees and even though each of then tried to do their best in helping; they didn't even realize or have the power to realize they were completely redundant and causing strain on their tenants. I got pissed off a few times, but tried to meet their administrative requirements the best I could, hoping for a great outcome, knowing it was going to be difficult without transportation, food, and living in 115-120 weather.
The population was a mix of lowest class citizens and old veterans. There were a few fights among tenants, and many of them appeared to be doing drugs, or just poorly carrying themselves. One man invited me into his apartment, said he was cooking a meal; asked if I wanted some and he had porn on the Television, asked me if I wanted some cocaine. I was disgusted and when I told a Case Manager, she had the nerve to say "Why did you go into his apartment." I come from a place in life where I feel I should be able to trust people that are in a program where there are Intake Desks, a full Staff of Managers, that is funded by the Government, but apparently not.
I watched the place and worked with my VA Social Worker to finally get on Disability. It only took about 6 months to get the first payment. America is this bad. I spent time working on my art therapy, and went to work for a little while with a friend's website. I tried to be friendly with my neighbors, yet keep my distance to protect myself and my sanity, but I still got sick. It was yet another disgusting low class, deeply impoverished, unintelligent population of former criminals and addicts and I didn't know why I was there. I began to act out in anger and demanded to leave to another place and my Social Worker had to ask the VA for a move and I found an apartment in another part of Phoenix. She asked me "What would go wrong in the next place" as if I was inviting problems and or causing them. I told her I figured I'd be fine once I wasn't surrounded by 100% of sick neighbors.
I settled into my new place and tried to come up with a plan on how to get back to success, meaning, working in a meaningful job, around pleasant people, and enjoying my days off by the water, at the mall, or wherever. I began dating online again, and I don't know if I'd lost my attractive looks or if the whole Phoenix Population was just ugly and disgusting, but all I met were angry, ugly, sometimes drug addicts. It felt impossible to survive, like there was no way out of this mess. The Apartment Management was 100% Mexican ran.
I finally received my Lump Sump Disability check and I bought my car. I can't believe I made it through the red tape without a hospitalization. The Social Security Department even appeared to lose intelligence, asking for copies of stuff and contradicting their own statements. It was very irritating and led to more suicidal thoughts.
I began to look for work and was able to shop confidently for business wear to get back on my feet and felt like it was actually going to be possible. I made a complaint about the Management Team, since their Inspection Procedures were screwed up and I began to complain about the VA and their Case Workers, simply because I was placed in yet another area where there was more Drugs and Crime. I felt like I was a target and was not being heard, so the Management told me I had to leave. They had several different Maintenance Workers coming into my apartment at various times, fixing things, and their "Maintenance Process" made me so angry; it was totally inconsistent with Normal Rules of Entry; Tenant Privacy; Laws, and even basic Coordination with the City and the VA was lacking; but it was FREE, so who was I to complain.
Just when I was getting better and on my feet, I was being thrown out for calling the Police about Drugs, calling the Management to complain about their processes. I'll admit, I was not as nice as I once was, but who can be after this Government Garbage.
I packed my Car and headed for Mexico, since I was already seemingly living in Mexico, I thought atleast I'd be near the beach and be able to afford more on my 950.00 per month. Unfortunately, this was not the case.
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