One box, two boxes, three boxes, four.
I’ve been moving.
In December 2011, when I last moved from my then apartment of seven years, it wasn’t for happy reasons. I’d been cyberharassed and cyberstalked as a blogger at Pam’s House Blend. I’d written about a gender affirmation surgery I had in 2011, and those I’d describe as transsexual separatists made my life hell.
As a way to protect myself from possible harm at home, as well as just to get away from the awful management that had taken over the building I was then living at I moved and protected my new home address.
The new apartment was much nicer on the inside, although less green on the outside. I missed looking out my apartment windows and seeing green plants.
I’ve had over four-and-a-half-years at this last apartment. It was a good run.
Pam’s House Blend shuttered its doors in 2013. After writing for the blog for six years, I wasn’t as healthy as I used to be, and just not posting as much. Neither was Pam Spaulding, and neither was Laurel Ramsburger – the three of us being among the main contributors.
Now in 2016, those that followed me closely and wished me ill in 2011 and 2012 no longer follow me and care how I’m doing. The reason I protected my home address seems no longer to apply.
One box, two boxes, three boxes, 13.
This current move is a surprise move. I assisted a family member whom I trusted completely with my excellent credit rating in 2013. They had a good job, were engaged to be married and were behaving responsibly. At the time I told them “I’m giving you the power to destroy my life, so please act accordingly.” They said they understood.
They broke up with their long term fiancé, quit their job because they didn’t like the management without having a replacement job, got another lesser paying job and quit it without having a replacement job because they didn’t like the management, and got a third lesser paying job and quit it without having a replacement job because … well, you can guess why.
Three years later, they destroyed my financial life. One of the two loans I cosigned for they’d stopped paying altogether in late 2015 without telling me. The other loan was for a car they began paying late for, but worse they obtained ten parking violations – seven of which had gone to collection. They didn’t tell me that either until they couldn’t register the car without borrowing a good chunk of change from me.
In all, it took about $4,000 to catch up on all the bills to stop the bleeding on my credit report I had no idea was occurring; my family member crashed my credit score by about two-hundred points. I now am going to have about $650 in bills a month to cover because my family member let me down.
So, I’m moving to lower my rental costs; to get away from housing that second roommate I was helping get back on their feet, but in reality by giving them shelter was shielding them from the consequences of their actions. Helping them was no longer helping them or me.
So, it’s going to mean changing my standard of living for a couple of years to fix the damage done to my life; to rebuild at a point in my life when I have fewer years left ahead than I have behind me.
I’m moving to a lovely home across the same San Diego neighborhood, and living with new roommates. I’ve paired down significantly on my possessions, which is something I’ve needed to do for a while.
But, I’m moving again because circumstances dictated that moving is required, not because I decided it was time for a change. Need trumped want … again.
One box, two boxes, three boxes, 27. My life is not always about being transgender.
