Home is Where You Lay Your Head... In Peace

I have never had a stable home.

As a child, my home was filled with turbulence and abuse. As an adolescent, we were poor, and I knew how easily we could lose our home. In between that, one of my mother’s exes refused to leave our home for nine months, so we had to live at my grandparents’ house.

During my freshman year of college, my parent made it clear to me that my home was no longer my home now that I was living in the dorms, so I slept at my boyfriend’s house whenever I visited my hometown. Then I got my own place through that summer. After that, it’s been a series of moving from rental to rental, to motel, to rental, to couch surfing, to rental, to motel again, to rental.

Renting has been detrimental to my mental and physical health. I have lived under the iron fist of so many slumlords. I could write a book about each experience, and you would assume it was fiction. I have a very real fear of any type of certified mail or letters posted to my door. I do not answer when landlords call me. I do not answer when they bang on the door at 6 a.m., high on cocaine.

However, I cannot protect myself completely from the uncertainty of renting. There is always going to be construction without warning, inaccessibility, people smoking weed like it’s the end of the world, and of course the “inspections”—which just exist to criticize you and say you didn’t clean enough, even when you’ve been scrubbing constantly for weeks.

I have also been homeless three times. It would have been four, but someone in my family needed money at the time, so they offered for me to live there with lower rent than I would have paid in an apartment. I have never spent a night on the street, but I have lived in so many motels, Airbnbs, campgrounds, and other people’s homes who let us crash, etc. I’m proud to say I’ve always managed to keep my pets with me and a roof over our heads in some shape or form, but it is not an easy life.

Right now, my apartment complex is causing me such extreme stress that I keep falling victim to one Myalgic Encephalomyelitis flare after another. We moved in here because my health was declining and they promised I would be in a unit accessible for my wheelchair by March. It is now September, and I have no idea when we will be moving—if we will be moving.

They are also constantly doing construction on the property, very loudly—sometimes even banging on the outside of my apartment walls. The sidewalks are cracked, ramps to the parking lot are destroyed, and there are giant holes in the parking lot. Debris from the construction is everywhere, from tiny wires to giant rocks blocking your path. They block doorways without any type of notice, creating fire hazards. In March, the elevator broke for over a month and I was trapped on the second floor. They refuse to fix things that have been broken since we moved in.

It’s a mess.

Yes, I have been in touch with attorneys, civil rights organizations, HUD, my local housing authority, the Mayor’s Action Office, my local representatives, the local Fair Housing Center, and more. Yes, I have submitted a plethora of reasonable accommodations as well as doctor letters.

The apartment complex has offered to let me out of my lease and pay the moving costs for the new apartment, but in reality, everywhere I go will be just as bad. I have never had a good landlord. I have also lived in worse conditions. I am not taking that risk. Landlords are really good at making promises they refuse to keep and posting really pretty pictures online of their properties when they are actually trash.  Not to mention, Section 8 isn’t allowing voucher holders to move right now, and this city is severely lacking when it comes to accessible rentals.

Yesterday, I went ahead and applied to Indianapolis Neighborhood Housing Partnership, who I am hoping can help me find a home—preferably through the Section 8 Homebuyers Program. My credit isn’t great, and I have no savings, but Indiana needs people to buy homes. I’m also disabled, low income, and would be a first-time homebuyer, so I’m eligible for a lot of special programs. My advocate with another organization said she has seen people buy homes here in Indiana with less.

Obviously, I’m not going to settle for a home that I cannot have repairs done to make accessible. I will not live in a bad neighborhood full of crime. I do have backup options.

I will be applying to Habitat for Humanity in another county in the next month or so as well. They make accommodations for those who are disabled and will build us an accessible home from the ground up. My advocate also shared the contacts she knows have helped people in similar situations buy homes before.

Yes, homeownership does come with its own problems, but I would be in control of how those problems are handled. I would make the decisions. There would no longer be ominous notes on my door or uncertainty when it comes to accessibility. It would be my property that I would do what I want with—because hell no, I won’t live under a Homeowners Association!

There are options, and I will pursue the best possible one. I am ready for a change. I am ready to feel at peace. I am ready to finally get the rest I have been needing my entire life. I am ready to heal.

And If I fail at homebuying now?  I will continue to make what I have work the best I can... as I always have.