The Homefront: Things May Be Improving

Tweet

Some of you may remember me telling you about my next-door neighbor, "The Delusional One." She has bullied and harassed me for over three years. Her reasons? I'm legally blind, under 62 (doesn't matter that I'm over 55), own a cat, have a guide dog, and live right next door to her. And all that somehow makes me eavesdrop on, spy on, and stalk her—all figments of her imagination. This woman has been relentless. From the beginning, she told tenants and employees alike that I was a monster and they needed to stay away. Making things worse is the fact that she's been good friends with the maintenance man and his wife for ages. He's been complacent—enabling her by siding with her or bullying and harassing me himself. Having four different managers during this time did not help me either. They believed the maintenance man, so they believed my next-door neighbor. And they believed the rest of her clique. Management blew off my complaints and denied my requests to move. In March, when the last manager quit or lost her job and corporate started coming here, I thought relief was near. The regional manager and director of complaince accepted all 12 of my complaints. And, they put me on an internal wait list for the next available apartment. A woman and her son moved out of a two bedroom at the end of May, and that's when things got worse. One of her clique members stalked me. I reported that, complete with a picture, on June 4. That same day, the maintenance man claimed I had interfered with EMTs. My other next-door neighbor was the one who called. I let the fire chief (a friend's brother) and his crew in through my place. That's help, not interference, so Pete (fire chief) called the regional manager. On the same day that I got notice about "EMT interference (June 4)," I got a "Notice To Cure." This one claiming the smell of cat feces and urine was eminating from my place. I had 10 days to clean my already clean litter box. On that 10th day, the regional manager, who had not even been to my apartment told me I was fine. But, later in the month when I asked if my 55+ senior social group could use the community room, she gave me the runaround. It annoyed me that she would not give me a straight answer about the community room. But, at least I could breathe again—or so I thought. A buck was born on the property and the doe left her fawn behind a bush close to our building. Suddenly, the clique was in an uproar over me walking my dog. Nick didn't even notice that newborn buck. I was pissed, but kept that to myself, never alerting management. A day or two later, the fawn was gone. Finally! Maybe now I can breathe? HA! On July 17, management slapped me with another "Notice To Cure." And again it was for feces and urine eminating from my clean litter box. I had another 10 days to clean my clean cat box, and the regional manager did not come back in until 8/7. During those weeks, I inundated her inbox with pic of the clean cat box and home. On 8/7, when I stopped in to see the regional manager, she said she had 17 complaints against me. By the way, days earlier, I had already supplied her with 10 names of people who smelled nothing in my hallway. There are 32 people living here, and there was no way she had 17 complaints. Aside from the six who live in this hall, only about three come down it on a regular basis. I asked the regional manager to walk the halls with me and come into my apartment. I showed her where it does smell like cat feces and urine (complete opposite side of the complex). I also showed her that my place was fine. Still, I could not tell what her thoughts were until after she left the building. She did say she'd need to speak to the director of complaince (who was not here). But, she also did not leave another "Notice To Cure." I was on edge from 8/7 until she returned on 8/14. For the first time EVER she approved my request for my group to use the commnity room. And, she said nothing about Nick (dog) and Henry (cat). The maintenance man even smiled at me (for the first time in two years), and not once, but twice. One of the clique members even approached me that night (8/7) to try to gaslight. She was the one I caught clipping that clear plastic glove with the poop in the finger on my door last February. Anyway, she came up to me and said, "I don't know what's going on with you guys, but I want you to know I had nothing to do with it. I don't know if the delusional one got a lease violation or a termination (of lease) notice. But, it seems, after 39 months, I am finally getting relief.