You may have heard it on Twitter, Facebook, or the Instagram, but we’re no longer houseless. We found an apartment and we’ll be moving in on Saturday morning.
I’m cautiously excited. I don’t want to say where I’ll be living because after my stalker found my last apartment I’d like to deliberately keep my safety protected, but it’s truly beautiful.
It’s a two-bedroom, two-bathroom, ensuite laundry apartment, with a courtyard, and the best part is it’s a completely smoke-free property, which means I’ll have to cut down on my smoking.
I’ve been cautiously optimistic through all of this. One of the people who lives where my mom works says I’ve been handling all of this with grace, but as my friend and close confidant, Nada Chehade said to me the other day, what the fuck else am I going to do but survive this?
I’m excited about the new possibilities. I am excited about the distance I’m excited about all of it. I need a place where I can go and heal. I still haven’t had the luxury of really just “phew” ing it all out.
I think that I have cannabis to thank for this. Since I started smoking cannabis I’ve released myself of all the people, places, and things, that I swore up and down I couldn’t live without.
The people who talked down to me, or made me feel like I should just settle for marriage and children with anyone instead of with my one are the people that are no longer a part of my life.
The things that I swore I needed, I have, the ones that mean the most to me, the pieces of my heart that remind me that I am more talented than I give myself credit for, I have.
And the place where I am constantly running into at least one of my abusers, I no longer have to return to unless it’s to get somewhere else, so the chances of seeing him on a regular basis have diminished quite a bit.
This is a brand new adventure, the first since I took that flight to Winnipeg when this journey – this new version of my life started.
It’s been hard, really hard which is why I haven’t been writing, but this part – the dark part where I sit and wonder if the ancient ones really do have my back is almost over and that gives me hope.
I’ve been listening to a LOT of Classified lately, if you’re in a dark spot check out his catalog, it’s really decent and it helps with the bad and negative emotions that come with being homeless.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night to hear gunshots, that wasn’t unusual but was unusual was the way I just went back to sleep like nothing happened. It scares me how numb I’m becoming to the violence that I see or hear about every day. It’s not normal to be this desensitized.
I think it comes from having only Twitter to keep me entertained for two months. I’ve been doom-scrolling and seeing it all. Children being abused, Shiny Happy People on Amazon confirmed a lot of what I think is happening in Fundamentalist Christian communities, just the same as when I was growing up, nothing’s changed there.
I’m exhausted all the time but I hope that once I’m back to a regular routine I’ll be able to build this brand up the way I wanted to when I first started.
It’s hard not to believe in a higher power when you realize the only reason you’re housed when others are not is that you knew people in high places that could help you get there. I thank God for my work in my old life every day because I’m housed, but I also recognize that not everyone has the privileges that I do.
We only got this apartment because it’s wheelchair accessible, and mom is in a wheelchair, if not for that I’d still be houseless.
I have a deeper appreciation for why people are houseless now than I did before. It’s not just because we know people, it’s because we worked for 2 and a half months to find a place that was accessible, and we called every single person we knew for help. Or rather mom did.
We wouldn’t be housed if our entire community hadn’t come together to make this happen, and not everyone gets that, not everyone knows they are allowed to ask, and sometimes, people just don’t want to be housed. That’s a reality I didn’t understand, but I do now.
Some people want to be housed, others don’t, and it’s hard to figure out whose who until it’s too late.
Anyways I just really wanted to update you on what’s going on, so you aren’t worried that I’ve hurt myself or something. Thank you for coming back to this blog, for reading it, and supporting me through the shop and the go-fund-me.
It’s really kept me going to know that there are people out there pulling for me!!
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall
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Loud Mouth Brown Girl 
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