The Roof Is On Fire

A quick update since I haven’t written over here in a couple of weeks. Nothing has really changed; but I’ve, at least, been mostly distracting myself from life’s struggles through the usual cleaning house, music, art, and a few nature hikes. For the most part, that was working until last night. Now, I find myself on “high alert” again.

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Apparently, “the meth house” on my street blew up last night. This happened once before, same house, back in 2012 when the guy who lives there was cooking meth in a camper that blew up. He’s been busted multiple times for meth from what the neighbors around here have told me; yet for some reason, he never stays in jail long.

I didn’t even hear the explosion this time. A friend of ours from a few streets over stopped by a little after 10pm to check on me. She said that she and her husband heard the explosion all the way over there. How did I miss that?! I must have had my music much louder than I thought or either I was just lost in what I was drawing.

By the time I heard the sirens and looked outside around 9:30 pm, the flames from the house were as high as the trees. Our friend told me two people were arrested; and they were searching for others who may or may not have been killed in the explosion. She was told that these people were cooking meth in a tent behind the house. Although I’m a little confused as to how that would catch the house on fire?

I don’t know the details. I don’t even want to know. I want nothing to do with any of it! The “Clampetts” from next door had their lawn chairs out next to the road, sitting there like they were watching a freakin’ movie. I didn’t step foot outside my door until our friend showed up; and then, I didn’t even leave the porch.

Shortly after KR got home from work, the firemen finished and all was quiet for a little while. Around 2am we heard sirens again. Sure enough, I looked out the kitchen window to see flames shooting above the tops of the trees again.

The firemen decided to let it burn to the ground this time. They simply controlled the flames to prevent any other property from being damaged. It burned all night as we heard loud pops every once in a while followed by barking dogs.

It smoldered all day today with a low-lying fog of smoke creeping throughout the neighborhood for miles. Honestly, I’m relieved that the firemen allowed it to burn down. Other neighbors expressed their relief, as well. Maybe, that will prevent the owner of this house from coming back to it to carry on his addiction.

Is it bad that the whole time it was burning, I couldn’t get this song out of my head? Bloodhound gang- The roof is on fire (HQ sound) Note: If you’re offended by explicit lyrics, don’t listen to it.

Dumbasses cooking meth terrify me. This area has a very bad meth problem. My anxiety is through the roof. Any little sound sends me to the window to look out. Hyper-alert, right now. Yet, at the same time, I feel kind of numb. That same “unreal” feeling that I get when things feel too overwhelming. I fear I may not survive this neighborhood.

I also can’t help but wonder if, maybe, this (meth fumes, smoke fumes, stress – whatever) is why I’ve had such a bad headache for the past couple of days. It’s relentless. I’ve actually been getting pretty bad headaches, sometimes with nausea, for a couple of weeks, which really is not normal for me. I thought it was just stress or hormones; but now, I wonder.

I know absolutely nothing about meth, except that it’s very bad and very dangerous. I have serious concerns about any lingering fumes and even the water supply. I’ve had this insane paranoia about the water here for so long that I can’t determine if it’s irrational or not.

So, yeah, welcome to my insane neighborhood. Run away… as fast you can!

And I just heard another explosion as I was finishing up proofreading. What the HELL?

From A Place of Darkness…

I don’t want to be here anymore.

The landlord came by again for the rent and electric a little while ago. Why does he only stop by when KR is not here? I only gave him the check for the electric bill ($221) because we simply do not have the rent money. He, of course, said, “You can’t just withhold rent because the neighbors broke your window.” I told him that I’m at my wit’s end. If the money isn’t there, the money isn’t there! I raised my voice a little too loudly. I didn’t hide my exasperation. By the end of this encounter, I cursed at the man who seemingly holds my fate in his hands — out of sheer frustration. This house is falling down around us. The neighbors are driving us crazy. KR is working his ass off to pay for our landlord’s problems, leaving us with no means to get out of here. This whole situation is just NOT RIGHT! I feel like we’re being taken advantage of because there’s apparently no recourse, no solution to alleviate the burden.

I feel like a complete basket case. I can’t stop crying, now. I’ve been crying for over an hour feeling panicked, scared, and angry that I find myself in this all too familiar position. I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m going to suffocate. I’m sitting here wishing I would….

Sweet numbness sets in as visual imagery plays out in my mind, thoughts turning darker….

I should draw that visual to distract myself because I have another 5 hours before KR comes home from work.

“Wait it out. Wait it out.” That small voice whispers, but even that small voice remains unconvinced that things will change for the better.


A quick update…. I finally got my windshield repaired this past Monday. We ended up using the rent money for the repair, so now we’re behind on rent. Our landlord wasn’t happy, but he didn’t really complain much about it since other neighbors have been calling him complaining about this piece of property and the children living next door as well. Again, I stressed to the landlord how unbearable the living conditions here are. I vented to him, saying out of exasperation, “How are we supposed to get the hell out of here when we are spending every penny of our money to pay for ‘your’ problems?” I’m sick and tired of it.

CrackedThe child’s father still has given us no money towards the damages. I picked up the police report and stopped by the circuit court but found out it will cost us another $115.50 to file a civil warrant. We also have to hire an attorney to handle the case. Again, money we simply do not have. Everyone keeps giving me Legal Aid’s phone number, but past experiences with them showed me that they don’t handle “civil matters” such as this. This entire mess is causing the same thoughts and feelings to resurface as when I had to deal with the courts over child support and visitation rights with my son. Unless you can spend a fortune on it, there is no justice.

I also noticed that my dashboard is cracked as a result of this “rock throwing” incident. Unfortunately, this didn’t make it into the police report as I didn’t notice it that night the deputies were here. This repair will just have to wait.

I found “the” rock in that hard to reach crevice next to the passenger-side seat by the door. My guess is that this was the rock the deputy was referring to that night, not the pea-sized gravel in the floorboard that I thought he was referring to. All I can say is that if THIS is the rock that broke my windshield and cracked my dashboard, then that 8-year-old has one hell of an arm on him! Especially considering they said it hit the fence first before hitting my car. He’s lucky he didn’t take out my front windshield, too.

The Rock

Even though Safelite’s technician did a pretty good job vacuuming out most of the glass from the inside of my car, you’d be surprised how hard it is to remove it all, especially microscopic slivers. After picking up a few groceries on Tuesday, I realized he missed the trunk; so I spent the rest of that day obsessively cleaning the trunk of my car. I also smelled that sour odor in my car from dampness. While cleaning the trunk, I realized that my car had indeed gotten soaked during the thunderstorm on April 29th.

After I finished writing my blog post that day, the thunderstorm got pretty vicious. Small bits of hail began falling briefly, the wind picked up considerably, and the storm’s severity gained strength. I glanced out the door to check on the tarp over my car to see if it was holding. It wasn’t. The broken window was exposed. I quickly threw on some shoes and KR’s heavy coat with hood up and ran out the door to try to fix the tarp, to get it to stay down in some way.

At first glance, I noticed that almost the entire window had caved in. I didn’t waste time to see how much water was in there. I didn’t want to know. As I pulled on it, the tarp ripped. I quickly grabbed the gray one (both of these tarps are very old), which was horribly muddy from having been sitting on the ground out there. It was the one we had been using to cover the spare tires (our neighbor ended up buying those tires off of us the night he found them in his yard). I just left the original tarp on the car and decided to put this second one on top of it. Using the strong winds from the storm to try to help me get this tarp over the car (as I was alone in this fight), I finally managed to get it up there after 5 or 6 tries.

I became so frustrated at one point that I hit the wooden privacy fence with both hands, open-handed several times, screaming and crying in rage and despair. I must have looked like a crazy, wild woman out there, if anyone saw (God, I hope no one saw). I finally got the tarp secured the best I could, using anything and everything I could find to hold it down. I was out there so long and it was raining so hard that any mud I got on myself from that muddy tarp had the chance to completely wash off of me and my clothes. Needless to say, I was completely drenched, dripping with water, when I went back in the house. I looked like a drowned rat.

So yeah, there was also water in my car and it soured. The spare tire well and jack compartment had standing water in them. The jack is completely rusted, ruined. I had no idea that rust could form that quickly, but it had been a week. I just didn’t realize that much water had poured into the car from the storm. 

I know I should just be thankful that my windshield is fixed now, that my car is drive-able again, and chalk it all up to “Shit Happens.” It just feels so wrong to have all of this happen through fault of another person and have no means to make that person pay for his mistake. Injustice is a BIG trigger for me.