New post on Maximus Octavian.
Click here to view.
New post on Maximus Octavian.
Click here to view.
(I went from living in this grade listed building, dating back to the late 1800’s in London, UK, (as well as being independent and supporting myself), to becoming homeless within eight months of moving to the US).
Picking up from where I left off (see “Our Disastrous Trip To New York Whilst Heavily Pregnant“), after *Steve had returned for me in West Virginia, we were fast approaching his friend *Peter’s house. As we got closer, gloating, he said “See? I do have friends. Something you don’t think I have”. OK Mr. Crazy, that was random. To be honest, I just couldn’t care less any more. I just wanted to register with a hospital, and make sure my kittens were OK. Each day that passed felt more and more like my baby was coming. The stress was really grinding me down – as well as Steve. The pain was unbearable. Every time I told him I was in pain, he’d tell me to stop complaining because I was having a ‘text book’ pregnancy. Even with me being in this state, it was always all about him.
Unsure of what to expect, once we pulled up on the driveway, a bad feeling hit me. There was quite a bit of junk outside. I was praying the inside would be better, bearing in mind, I could possibly have to bring my new born baby back to this house. Honestly, meaning no disrespect, the place was not fit for me, let alone a baby. Turns out his friend *Peter didn’t own the house at all as he had previously stated. He’d just been paying the mortgage for a while. His mother, father, cousin and dog lived there with him.
When I told Steve how unhappy I was because we needed our own space, he said “It’s a roof and four walls”. It suited him because they all smoked (God knows what, plus he had been lying to doctors and nurses that he had quit smoking). There were ashes everywhere in every room. There were cobwebs on the shower and around the bath area. And then some. It was not for me. It was not for my baby nor my kittens either. But I had to be grateful, apparently. He’d leave me alone in the room for long periods, come back in smelling of alcohol and cigarettes/smoke, knowing it made me feel sick. He simply didn’t care.
(To living like this with four weeks left to go before my son was due. These pictures show the “four walls and a roof” Steve was talking about. These pictures were I had tidied the best I could, without Steve’s help).
We tried to update our driver’s licences from Georgia to New York. We didn’t have the $65.00 per person to do it. He needed new tags, but refused to get them before we left Georgia and we still couldn’t afford them where we were. (So in the end, we had to pay a late fee as well later on). We had very little money, and with that, we had to buy ramen noodles to make sure he ate, but generally had enough money for him to get his junk food fix. I, on the other hand was still eating once every two days. Admittedly, Peter and his family did offer me food, but I didn’t feel comfortable eating from them, nor eating their food. We hadn’t given them any money. Steve didn’t think we should anyway. I had become so accustomed to not eating by now, although I prayed my baby was getting all he needed from me. My stomach would hurt and rumble. I was so hungry.
Our next stop was for Steve to get Unemployment and an EBT card/Food Stamps. It was a horrible experience. The place stank. It was dirty. It was just awful. We kept being told to come back the following day. Petrol/gas was low. We had no money to fill up the tank. Yet, he seemed content to continue down this route. Anyway, after filling out all the forms and getting all the information they requested, we were told he couldn’t claim in the state of New York; he’d have to go back to Georgia as he was a resident there and his last place of work was there also. What a waste of time and what little money we had. But I was glad this was the case. Up until this point, Steve wanted us to stay with his friend until things worked out for us. How long would that have taken? We couldn’t keep living off of them. I suppose that’s the sort of person he is though. He’ll use anyone he can gain from. I, on the other hand have always been one to pay my own way, so was not comfortable with his ‘master plan’.
Steve would act like a victim outside of the room in front of them. Once back in the room, with the door closed, he was back to his true nasty character. Jekyll and Hide comes to mind.
November 11th. Veterans Day. As if he deserves to be called a veteran after I was the one who fought for his chapter to not go ahead. Steve and Peter got to eat for free. I stayed in the room whilst they went to TGI Fridays and had decent food. I received a bit of left over salad. By this point, I didn’t care. I had to eat. I was feeling faint already from lack of food.
November 14th. Steve’s birthday. I didn’t even wish him a happy birthday. After all the gifts he’d received from me and all the things I had paid for, I finally had nothing to give after he had stripped me down to nothing financially. Serves him right. Even if I had any money by that point, I wouldn’t have given him anything. All I wanted was to have my baby safely and leave the son of a bitch. For good.
The next day was pay day from the army. He was still being paid down to December 4th when his contract would end. (See “Heavily Pregnant, Hungry And Homeless”). Steve had decided it was time to leave as things weren’t working out for us there. He did an internet search on possible places we could go. Marietta, Georgia was decided. Once again, somewhere we’d never been before. At 02:00 am, his wages showed in our bank account, which was less than expected, but we left regardless. Without saying goodbye to anyone. I felt like a low life. If he had listened to me in the first place and 1) saved money and 2) stayed in Georgia, we wouldn’t of suffered the way we did. We should have had at least $22,000 saved, which would have covered so much for us. This is even with us treating ourselves to dinner, clothes, movies, etc.
Broke, smelly and homeless, we headed back to Georgia.
Why me? Why did I have to keep suffering like this?
Once we had got back to the state of Georgia I told Steve we should send Peter’s mother a cheque for $125.00 once we had a bit of money come in. It wasn’t much, but it would be a small contribution for our eight night stay there. He said no, why should he. Peter was a liar, them and the house was dirty and the reason they were broke was because of all the expensive cigarettes and weed they smoked. He also added that Peter’s father has just gotten out of jail for heroin and was crazy. He continued by saying it would be a waste of money sending it to them, besides, they hadn’t actually done anything for us. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Yes they did you loser! When I told him it was the principal of the matter, he still refused. I felt awful. I had no money myself, so could do nothing about it.
He never did send the money. Even now, I’d still like to send them some, but unfortunately, I cannot remember their address.
(*Not their real names)
(Thankfully, New York wasn’t as bad as this when we arrived).
As predicted, going to New York with no money and nothing already set up was a nightmare. Anyone with common sense would have known that, but not *Steve (see “Heavily Pregnant, Hungry And Homeless“). The journey which started on November 3rd 2012 was awful. I was extremely uncomfortable and in pain, yet in the middle of the night, I had to take over and drive because he was cursing me for being lazy. I was afraid; tired and heavily pregnant, not to mention in pain, I did not think it was a good idea to take the steering wheel. It was pitch back and I’d only recently gotten my driver’s licence. But, for some peace, I did. He fell asleep and left me to deal with getting us there. When I did wake him up to help me out as we were using his the SatNav from his cell/mobile which was a bit off, he cursed me and asked why was it OK for me to sleep for a long time, but it wasn’t OK for him. Asking him what he considered a long time, he responded thirty minutes. Wow. He’d been sleeping for about an hour when I wasn’t sure which way I should turn…
Steve had taken over the wheel by the time we had arrived in New York. What little cash we had was spent on road tolls, for which we did not anticipate. I had to take over the driving once again, as I was used to driving around in busy London and he couldn’t cope with the sheer amount of vehicles. But we had an even bigger problem. Hurricane Sandy had hit where we were going on October 22nd. I had no idea what we were going to do. We’d both been in touch with the Veterans Affairs Supportive Housing (HUD-VASH) program, which combines Housing Choice Voucher (HCV) rental assistance for homeless veterans, prior to leaving Georgia, although I was unable to get any information myself as I wasn’t the “veteran”. When asked what our options were, he told me he had been advised to just turn up in New York and was given an address we needed to go to upon arrival. Well, surprise, surprise, the venue didn’t exist (I’m still convinced he made it up to this day) and we almost got a ticket on the car as there was nowhere to park. We went round and round in circles. By the end of it, we’d only spent a few hours there and left. Our plans were shot to hell. What on earth were we going to do now? No money, no roof, no food for me, three kittens in the car, baby coming real soon… I had to ask “Why God?”.
(The devastation left by hurricane Sandy in some parts of New York).
Another brain wave from Steve emerged. His friend *Peter lived in up state New York. He would give him a call and ask if we could go stay with him. He had a three or four bedroom house he was paying the mortgage for and lived on his own. It would solve our problems. We headed to West Virginia, careful to avoid any more toll payments as we were out of cash and they didn’t accept card payments. That’s were we stayed for the night. Although we had to sneak them into the room, the kittens were able to roam about rather than be stuck in a crate in the car. I was able to have a shower and sleep in a bed. I needed it. Especially to prepare me for what was going to happen the next morning.
To cut a very long story short, we argued about everything – mainly money. We shouldn’t have been in such a situation, especially as I had made provisions to ensure we weren’t. Steve was always hungry and had a big appetite. I was hungry, but wasn’t allowed to eat, so when I did, it was very little as it was what I had become accustomed to. We had to be out of the hotel room by 11:00 am. He packed up all his things, along with the kittens and out then in the car at around 10:00 am.
Steve drove off…
I was thinking, fine let him go so he can cool off for the long drive we faced. I started to pack up what was left in the room. 10:15 am. He hadn’t come back. 10:30 am. He still wasn’t back. 10:45 am I was panicking as we only has 15 minutes left to get out of the room. We had paid for that one night with all the money we had left in the bank account. I dragged everything outside into the cold and handed back the keys 11:00 am sharp. I sat in the cold with broken and ripped shoes, I had no coat, no gloves, no hat – I had nothing to keep me warm. I started to cry. I was so worried for my unborn baby. Calling him numerous times before he decided to answer, he reply he was on his way to his friend’s house and that I had to find a way to get myself out of the mess I was in. I couldn’t believe it. He swore he wasn’t coming back for me.
My cell/mobile battery was dead. Luckily, there was a drinks machine that was plugged into a double socket, so I was able to charge my phone outside. I continued to call. Same response when he did bother answering. At one point, he said he wanted me to beg and fight for him. I did just that, but he still said he wasn’t coming back for me. A gentleman passed me and said “Good morning”. The same gentleman passed me again approximately two hours later, only this time he stopped. He said “When I left to got to church this morning, you were here. I’ve now returned and you are still here in the cold”. I didn’t know what to say. I was embarrassed to tell him the truth about my Steve, so I told him my husband had gone on a job interview, it’s taking longer than we expected, but he will be back soon. The gentleman told me his name (I’ve forgotten it) and his room number and told me to come by should I need anything. A lady driving up asked me what was going on. The lady in reception asked the same. It took all my strength not to cry and not to tell what really happened.
The next thing I knew, after quite some time, Steve called and told me he was on his way, but only because he had spoken to his mother who had told him to come back for me. He also proceeded to tell me how his mother said our relationship was toxic and that I should be more sympathetic to him, as well as that I should put more of an effort into our relationship. I was so angry. What did his mother know? I told him I was going to call her and give her a piece of my mind; no one was going to accuse me of not making an effort. I had given her crazy son my all. Besides, it was because of me why they were talking again. Of course he told me not to because she would deny it and it would cause problems. On hindsight, I believe it’s because he didn’t want her to tell me what she really said. Anyway, I didn’t call her and left it at that.
I was sat in the cold for three and a half hours before Steve returned for me. He then tried to dump me off at the nearest airport with no means of paying for a ticket to get back to the UK. I had no choice by this point. The thought of being left in the cold again (I hadn’t quite thawed out yet from my experience), did not appeal to me. I told him “For better, for worse” I would stay with him. He started to cry, telling me how I deserve better and that I was too good for him.
I thought “You’re damn right you f**ker. And when I get the chance to leave you, I will”.
We continued our journey.
(*Not their real names)