So, last night, just before 10 pm I think, I heard “something, something BITCH” yelled by the woman next door.
It seemed even louder due to the quietness of the evening.
I looked at Sid, Sid looked at me, we both shrugged and made here-we-go-again faces as the yelling rant went something like this: Continue reading
Sticks and stones will break my bones But words will never harm me.
“Sticks and Stones” is an English language children’s rhyme. It persuades the child victim of name-calling to ignore the taunt, to refrain from physical retaliation, and to remain calm and good-natured.
Sensible advice that, to remain calm and good-natured.
I have no problem with remaining calm.
But the truth is – as any person who’s ever been bullied can tell you, words can and do harm you.
Words can and do hurt you.
Words can and do cause you great pain.
Words can even lead you to suicide. Continue reading
Well, I guess I can say I’ve gone through all the Stages of Loss and Grief in the last five days.
There was isolation, there was bargaining, there was depression, there was anger (oh, there was anger!) and I reached acceptance about 20 minutes ago.
I planned on writing a post this morning on compassion, as I reached acceptance while having breakfast. But that’ll have to wait because I’m afraid there was a new development (is that a redundancy, new development? like added bonus?).
Anyway, the redundant new development sent me back into depression, another little bit of bargaining (if only I had waited a little longer to release the two spayed females), lots of crying, an anxiety episode and lots of anger.
I had therapy/counselling today at 11 am. I was running late and only made to the bus stop when my counselor and I agree it was better to reschedule so I could have a full hour.
Decided to walk to the pharmacy to pick up my medication instead. When I came home, I found this on my door
At least in this case, a good deed didn’t go unpunished.
The neighbours managed to turn me into a nerve wreck.
I can’t sleep. Every time I hear their patio door open my heart skips a beat. I am also very jumpy.
Anxiety levels are up to the roof.
They continue to make loud passive-aggressive remarks on their deck, I guess in hopes that I hear them. And I do. Unfortunately, this house seems to be made of paper.
The house was turned into a quadruplex, two units on the first floor and two more on the second. I can pretty much hear everything my next door neighbour within the same house. I can perfectly hear which tv show he’s watching. Or was, because he moved out.
When my neighbour down below does laundry, the whole house shakes and it sound like the washer is in my unit instead of hers. When the washer is in the centrifuging part of the cycle, my whole place shakes. I have often made jokes about this.
So it doesn’t come as a shock to me that I can hear very well everything that is said on the next door house deck or even what the neighbours say inside their house if their windows and mine are open.
I don’t know if they know this but I am certainly hearing all their threats, insults and the like.
And that is certainly drilling a whole in my sanity.
So wish they could be charged for causing me to become ill.
A friend of mine often says that no good deed goes unpunished.
I always laughed at this but this time around, as I am living it, all of a sudden it isn’t funny anymore.
Last night, I had to call the police for the first time of my adult life.
At 46 years old, I am being bullied by my next door neighbours.
Yesterday morning, I was woken up by my neighbour screaming angrily at my bedroom window. Not how one expects to start a Sunday morning. Only half awake, I managed to get that he was threatening to send any cat he found in his backyard to the pound. What the hell?, I thought.
I decided to get up and go to the window to see what the heck was going on. Jay -my orange tabby, followed me. I had a glimpse of the neighbour as he was turning around the farthest corner of his house with a cat carrier in his hands and then disappearing on the other side of the house for a moment. When he came back onto the deck, he saw me and Jay still at the window, being quite perplexed by his behaviour.
He looked at me then looked at Jay and said (yelled, rather): “Ah there’s that fucking red cat again. If I catch that fucking cat in my backyard, I’ll take him to the pound.” Then he turned around and went inside the house.
It was 7 am on Sunday, May the third. Continue reading
Summer Solstice Musings 