I didn’t set out the last few weeks to figure out my anxiety. It just happened. More accurately, conversations and reflections happened. I’ve been talking to the downstairs neighbor who started me on this track to figuring things out.
I’ve been in my apartment for over eleven years now. That’s 11 years and three months if you want to be exact. I have seen tenants come and go. I’ve called the cops on some. I was grateful for others. I’ve also dealt with a horrible apartment manager for several years and then was blessed with better ones. I’m still getting a feel for the new one.
The last four years or so have seen the quality, so to speak, of next door tenants degrade. (Reference point being from about 2013 onward) Enough so that seeing the police show up is not an unusual sight. How screwed up is that? I also don’t know what to expect when I walk out my front door. With Mr Superiority Alcoholic (2015-June 2016), it was either him on some tangent or the police. I preferred the police because they treated me with respect. Mr Superiority Alcoholic treated me like an idiot. And when he started drinking, well, it was better for me to not be here. He may have never physically hurt me but that really didn’t mean anything. He would still get violent and abusive. He also called the cops on himself but they couldn’t keep him locked up for long so he would be back within hours to start all over the next night. And he would do this several times a week. I’m glad he was evicted.
The tenants before him, well the kids and grandkids really, were trouble before that. Though the police weren’t called, there were a lot of issues with drugs and alcohol. Lots of both. And even underage, I think but can’t prove. I’m glad they were evicted.
Between the two, knocking on the door sets me off. I tense, worrying that something bad is going to happen if I don’t answer. I don’t answer because it’s next door and I hear knocking on that four due to how little of a wall there is between the apartment. But now the current tenant next door is the most problematic. He has visitors at all hours of the day and night. Knocking incessantly. I can’t prove it but I believe it’s drugs. I don’t want that shit here. And they don’t stop. They knock even when Mr Drugs isn’t home and they keep knocking til somebody answers the door. And it’s a specific knock. And it’s the same people over and over again. But I can’t prove it’s drugs so I can’t do anything.
So living in this apartment has increased my anxiety. I don’t feel safe here. I worry about walking out my front door. I hear a knock and I’m worried about violence. I worry about people damaging or dealing my car or breaking into my apartment.
But I can’t afford to move. I looked for another apartment and I’d be looking at paying nearly $1000 (yes that’s right) for a studio. I have a one bedroom now. I don’t want to have to move due to other people’s bad behavior. I want Mr Drugs gone. I shouldn’t have to suffer for someone else’s bad behavior.