I have briefly written about my housing situation in a previous blog, but it is nowhere near detailed enough for anyone to understand the pain and suffering I am currently going through. As you may know from the previous blog, I was forced to leave my flat after antisocial behaviour from my neighbours escalated and eventually ended in a police raid on MY flat because they got the wrong address. Losing my best friend Barney (the rabbit) literally two days later just made things a million times worse.
Our previous manager told my Mum and care coordinator that I could move back into Birch House, a place I have lived before. It is a supported living house for up to seven people, however it is being closed down so the landlord can redevelop it into student accommodation (hey, students pay more apparently so who cares about us…). I managed to ditch the flat. It is no longer mine. I never wanted to go back there anyway, nor do I want to live by myself again, at least until someone helps me through the trauma of what happened that night. While living at Birch House, the management changed. The new managers (there were two) assured me, my Mum and my care coordinator that I would be able to move in with one of my housemates (this later became two housemates as someone else came here on a similar emergency). It was a house owned by a private housing association who were working alongside our company. I was told where it was, encouraged to take up the offer, even told it was “exciting”. It took some convincing, but I eventually warmed up to the idea. After all, I know both the people well who I would be moving in with and it would be in the same town. All good.
One day, the manager came to see me. My application for housing had been turned down by the council because my “IQ is too high”. Let me clarify one thing. My IQ is not spectacular. I can write and learn Portuguese but my IQ is quite average. Slightly below if anything, besides that it doesn’t make my autism any easier to live with (if anything I would say it is harder!). Basically I was now homeless because of a number which doctors have been disputing as an accurate measure of intelligence for many years. When I asked what to do now, I was basically told in no uncertain terms that the company had no responsibility for housing me and I had to look for a house myself in private rent DESPITE an occupational health assessment which clearly states I am unable to live alone due to my disabilities. Basically, I got turned down, no one was going to fight for me, goodbye and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
So yeah. Here’s where we are right now. The closing date for Birch House is mid-late September. I have no tenancy agreement at Birch House so I am legally homeless. Emergency meetings are being held by well meaning people in the mental health service who are all screaming at the ludicrous situation. They all agree on one thing, I should not be under mental health. Ironically, since this situation has started, I have now developed severe depression and I am finding it extremely hard to see any kind of future right now. I feel like I am wading through thick sludge, don’t have any motivation to do anything and I keep spontaneously bursting into tears. I feel like crap. I feel like a piece of unwanted crap. This company (who will remain nameless, but I am sure with some clever research you can figure it out) have given up on me. I don’t care much anyway as they are disableist and compare me to other service users all the time. They use the words “independent” and “has capacity” like vile slurs towards me and refuse to admit that maybe I need my five hours a day of support just as much as anyone else.
Anyway I will write a separate post about that. Today I am heading off to a town approximately half an hours drive away to look at a potential house. It’s difficult to get excited about it though because even if I like it, all it takes is for the council to say no. I hate our council (again if you do research, I am sure you can work out which one it is, I won’t name them myself!) as they are ruining my life over a number. They don’t see me as a human being with needs and disabilities, they see me as a figure. A thing. They don’t care how that makes me feel. Oh by the way, it makes me feel absolutely s word if anyone from that council bothers to read this.
Anyway I will update as soon as I know anything but please pray for me, or whatever it is you might do to pass on good wishes to someone if you aren’t religious.