It took a while for me to write again, but that doesn't mean that there hasn't been trouble. That definitely doesn't mean that our bout with homelessness was over...I thought it was.
I knew for sure that, the moment we moved into this place in February, the day my baby ran around this cute little town home in humongous circles, the day my oldest son looked into his bedroom and cracked a much needed smile. I just knew our struggle was over, but it had only began...our new struggle:
When we moved into our place, the first night I realized something. The place was infested with roaches.

They were EVERYWHERE and upon investigation, I found that there were nests in nearly every room. However, roaches and all, we were grateful and blessed, so I tried my best not to complain...I really didn't complain. I requested help for evicting my new visitors and the landlord seemed pretty reasonable and that made me glad. Unfortunately, it would take more time than I would like to get rid of the critters. Once we finally did, my neighbors moved out and I received a healthy deluge of them all over again.

The roaches weren't the worse thing to happen. That occurred in June when the organization that was helping me transition out of homeless had to abruptly cut funding. That's when the eviction notices started, and, they haven't started flowing. I've gained 18 lbs since then. I'm not able to provide my children (or myself) with adequate food and nutrition. I applied for food stamps and was denied...again. There is no governmental help I can receive because they look at my gross income.
And now, that little place that brought us so much joy in the beginning, has become a burden that I must fight to keep because it is the best that we have right now...right now, I'm fighting to keep a place where I don't feel safe...You see, at the end of October, someone kicked in my door and killed all of the security I had in our new place and my landlord's reaction left me feeling both raped and molested...
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