High Rise Versus Townhouse

Don’t Get Too Excited

I was offered some public housing this week! Yeah! Yes, but don’t get too excited. I’ve been offered some previously. Even more than once! I love the excitement and enthusiasm they have when they call.

And usually when they’re telling me all about the fully modified bathroom and blah, blah, blah! And I usually cut them off to ask “Where is it?”

On that occasion I was met with surprise. I was told it was in Broadmeadows. Now, I know 3 people these days who live in Broadmeadows and only one of them I would call a friend and I rarely see her even.

I know the name Broadmeadows sounds lovely and picturesque to those on foreign shores, however if you knew me in person you would agree with me when I say;

I wouldn’t last 5 minutes in Broadmeadows. I would die! Or be killed or kill someone!

Anyway, I digress but before I move on I’ll say, it would be useful if I live somewhere out of my comfort zone, I didn’t to change every single link to my community support network just to start again. I’m not changing my GP ever! Or my Chiropractor or my Beautician. I don’t drive, so spending all the money I save on rent catching taxis! It’s counterproductive.

But even being offered a place in that area told me this organisation wasn’t doing their job properly. He had not read anything bar my name on a list. I have never put down on any form that I would be even open to the idea of living in that area. (They are meant to keep you close to your services so you don’t have to start again. Don’t be bullied by them)

So finally this week I was offered some housing in a different area, by a different organisation for the last 3 or so years at this point with Case Management and short holidays etc. And I’m on the list for housing.

And the person now managing this area was briefly my Case Manager.

When I get offered something, it’s good to at least go and see it. It’s good to not go alone.

I put it out to a friend who actually spends time with me and around my home. She would have a practical eye of what’s important to me when choosing where I would like to live.

What would need to come with me (fur-baby!) and what I need to keep me because it make me comfortable (my bed!) and what settles my mind and makes my heart sing.

And she understands it would be counterproductive to move into a tiny box and put all my belongings into storage if that makes me want to kill myself or others.

Then I asked my sister to come. She thinks I should take the first thing that’s offered to me because she thinks that would solve all my problems in this world!

Now let me say, that ship has sailed! That ship is in Fiji already (thanks Gilmore Girls for that line!)

My sister drilled me with plenty of questions.

Can I take my cat? Probably not!

And all the others I let wash over me.

I was seeing my Case Manager in a few days so had planned to ask him.

Turns out, the apartment on the 7^th floor across from Victoria Markets (no thanks!) is practically just a bedsit! The kitchen a kitchenette!

What do you cook in there? Toast?

So, there’s much micro-managing me from a distance with little thought to my good mental health and then there’s people not reading my file to notice I’m approved for a 2 BEDROOM apartment etc.

And lastly, it’s my opinion that Public Housing in this country is all bulk built for Boat people. Tiny, tiny one bedroom apartments and bedsits! And I don’t have an issue with Boat people so for completely humanitarian reasons:

Let them in!

But this blog is not about them, so for every one of those apartments they build, why aren’t they building for the people who are already here???

Oh! I’ve had enough!

To Be Continued…