Today, the bad has officially gotten worse.

It was difficult enough to deal with our landlord's outrageous behaviour -refusing to acknowledge my
legal name change, accusing us of things we haven't done to damage the apartment- especially
when it reached the point of slandering us to potential renters.

It was slightly more difficult, though not impossible, to deal with the concept of our little sister, Megan,
coming out here for a visit during Spring Break. We hadn't seen her for nearly a year, and it was two
weeks before our moving date anyway.

It started escalating much more dramatically from there when we discovered that the pain that had
been steadily eating up my leg was an ankle sprain. Between the splint and the gabapentin controlling
the amount of pain throughout both my legs, things were looking up -- for, y'know, half a moment
anyway.

Until the gabapentin lodged its serrated claws in the back of my neck and pulled, its emotional side
effects (as they always do) tearing away my sense of sanity and reason to shove me over the edge.
In a night, impulsive terror and suicidality wracked my body and -in the slimmest of silver linings-
taught me what it might have been to have Borderline Personality Disorder, and that I am now beyond
certain that I do not have it.

The pain controller gone, ankle sprained, and within the night of my episode, what I thought was a
cold has progressed so severely that I am coughing breathlessly whenever I try to breathe, once even
to the point of vomiting. Back to the urgent care a day later, I'm told that I have acute bronchitis with
wheezing, given antibiotics, cough medicine, and an inhaler. It's March 28th and I can't even move
without coughing until I ache. I go to bed in so much physical pain that the pillow feels like knuckles
in my back -- my body is a bruise.

I call my mother today, as we had agreed that Dani and I would stay with her and her husband until
appropriate action was taken against our landlord, when we might be able to rent an apartment again.
According to her, that final agreement was never made. First we were going to stay with her to save
money, then realized SSI would have to be refiled and wasn't worth the risk. Then, we were going to
try to move out before the end of the money, spent $150 on a single rental application, and were
slandered against the renter. We determined that staying with my mother and her husband was the
obvious course of action, at least until we could ensure that we would even have the slightest possibility
of renting a new apartment.

She didn't remember *that part*. As far as she had decided for us, we would be staying here until we
found a new apartment, however she thinks *that* is going to happen. Our only option to applying for
a new apartment is either denying the right to contact our previous landlord and therefore having not
enough documented rental history as well as incriminating ourselves OR applying and 'just hoping' that
he doesn't make wild accusations one of the times, flushing hundreds of dollars down the drain in the
process.

She refuses to so much as address these concerns. I asked to know if she was going to let us stay with
them or if we should look for homeless shelters while we still have internet access, and she whined that
we wouldn't have to stay in a shelter, without giving us an explanation as to how. When I confronted
her with the cost, she decided that she suddenly had to get back to work.

The woman will not even help us. Her 'help' was telling me that she would bring us more small boxes,
which does little to help my illness and difficulty packing. My phone is broken (which it already was,
but now it's not even functional). We cannot even call our landlord to rescind our declaration of moving
out. My bitch mother will not respond to the text messages we've sent out through Dani's phone, either.

Helpless, useless, horrible. What the fuck do we do now?