I'm having problems finding a new place to live.  Now that I have my disability, with back pay coming to me, I have a financial foundation to stand on.  My rent and bills will be paid.  My medicare will take care of my medical expenses.  But my credit history holds me back.  Looking for an apartment is like looking for a job.  I have a good background -- no criminal history, no drugs, no major lifestyle issues, strong work history -- however because of my disability, I haven't had a job in over a year and have been evicted from the last two places I lived.  I got my rent payments mixed up, lost jobs due to store closings, and had a nervous breakdown in September 2004 -- all of this led to hospitalization and I took a loss financially, as well as a separation from friends who tried to support me when I lived in Milwaukee three years ago.  When I've seen new apartments and we get down to the application for rent process, three times in a row I've seen landlords give me that look -- they scowl when the disability issue comes up.  They all say they are equal opportunity rental facilities, but they all don't want anyone who is disabled living in their buildings.  My credit history may say I'm a liability, but my disability benefits should speak louder than that, they should say, "Hey, so she's had problems in the past because her emotional disorder distracts her from keeping her accounts in the clear, but now that she's got financial backing and a payee representative taking care of the bills, there's no question that rent and bills won't be paid in full on time."  But instead people assume the worst. 

Basically, I'm being treated like dirt by strangers.  It's amazing how the looks and body language of these people change as soon as my disability issues pop up.  I experienced the same treatment when I went to job interviews.  Now, really, there's nothing wrong with me on the outside, I'm a loyal friend and trustworthy person, but for people who are only looking at me as a potential tenant or employee (where only money is involved) they see me as all manner of shit.  They would rather hire or rent to a person who just got out of jail or something than give me the invite.  It makes me feel like a burden on society.  There was one man who went off about how people who are on disability drain the governmental coffers -- telling me this as if I should feel ashamed for being mentally ill and turning to the only available resource for me.

And that's the point, isn't it?  It would be one thing if I had no legs.  Or if I had cancer.  But when the disability is in the mind and emotions, well, shouldn't I just be able to get over myself?  My brother told me this: "It's like you're a man who lost his legs in an accident or in a war and people expect you to walk across the railroad tracks without a wheel chair or crutches, so they wait.  As expected, you can't cross those tracks by yourself.  And, oh, no, here comes the train!  People stand by and watch and complain about how slow you're moving.  Because you can't do it in time, it's all your fault and you're made to feel ashamed.  Like you're supposed to be normal, even if you can't be, and when you can't be, then too bad you're dead."  Okay, so Mark's description is a bit morbid, but it's the truth.

It's like this: if I knew I was going to become mentally ill, I would've decided to be something else.  But since I am, well, now I'm a second class citizen.  It pisses me off.  Makes me weep.  And I get to the point where I'm about to lose hope.  Every bad word that every ex-boyfriend or old friend said to me in the past about my emotional disability comes back to haunt me.  I remember it all.  At times when I'm trying to reach for opportunities and accomplish something, those memories tug at me.  I think, "Hmmm, maybe they were right, maybe I am a loser, maybe I should just die..."  But then something else kicks in.  That righteous, god-foresaken pissed off bitchyness heats up.

Oh, they may get me down, but I won't die before I get my chance to have a decent life, dammit!!!

My point is: I need a home.

My goal is: I will find one.  Even if it's only a state of mind... for now.