Short Hiatus

OK, so I know I just got back, but my hard drive has been dying a slow death ever since I moved. If I turn my computer off COMPLETELY, when I turn it back on, the computer cannot recognize the hard drive, and it takes several restarts and a fixboot to get things back and running again. And I am kind of sick of leaving the computer on 24/7. MUCH too tempting. 😉 Sadly, after some research, I discovered that my hard drive is losing communication with the rest of the computer. Leave it to ME to have a non-communicative hard drive. So, I was able to pull just enough money out of thin air to get a purportedly halfway decent hard drive from Ebay. Well…we’ll see. I am about to install it. Let’s hope I don’t make a total mess of things. I have installed memory, a graphics board, a ZIP drive, and a CD drive….but a hard drive scares me. Go figure. Heh.
With that, it may be a few days before I have things reinstalled and running once again to my liking (I admit it, I am a total control freak when it comes to my computer. If I don’t want it to do something, it won’t. Damnit.) Maybe it comes from not having a lot of control over the kids now.
So I will leave you with these interesting tidbits in the extended entry, since I still haven’t filled everyone in on all the fascinating things that have happened since my self-sanity-enforced hiatus.

One, I received my certificate in Computer Graphic Design in May with a 4.0 average all the way through. President’s List, babay. And this is after being sick almost the WHOLE second semester, and having my older son go into a psychiatric observation facility for the first time right during finals. Woo, go me!
Yes, G has been having a lot of issues. He has been in one of these facilities 2 more times since then, but I am really hoping maybe we finally have a handle on things. For now, at least. Part of the problem was spending almost 2 1/2 years in that domestic violence shelter. That is how bad the stinking economy is, I couldn’t find housing for that long even being homeless. THEN, in the main shelter I was in, they swore up and down they would not make me leave if I didn’t have housing, because they KNOW that there IS NO SECTION 8 being given out right now. So what do they do. “Well, your 2 years are up, you have to go.” Bam. Gave me a book with a list of other shelters and said start calling. Good lord. OK, so hell, yes, I found a place. I have never been on the streets with my children and by goodness I never will.
I had a letter offering a project-based Section 8 to me (this is a Section 8 certificate that is tied to a specific unit, and not mobile), and I hadn’t answered before because it wasn’t in a particularly good area. But, you know, a PLACE becomes more important that an area after 2 1/2 years. So, it was close by where I was going to the second shelter. I called for an interview, and got it for 2 days after I arrived at the new shelter. Of course, after spending nearly ALL my saved money just MOVING to the new shelter, getting my stuff into storage, etc. So….5 DAYS after I get to this new shelter…I got HOUSING! Un-freaking-believable. After tying up loose ends, about 3 1/2 weeks after moving to the second shelter, I move into my NEW apartment (which, oddly enough, is right around the corner from this second shelter. LoL. Much easier to move the second time. And much nicer to deal with people that actually care about what happenes to you.) But man, talk about STRESS!!
The DAY after we officially moved in, G had to go into the hospital again. This involved saying he wanted to die, barricading himself in his room, punching me in the face, banging on the floor with his fists so hard he was shaking the floor in the living room, screaming all sorts of nice things at me. Then to make matters worse, when I had to call the police and ambulance, the police kicked the bedroom door in. *sigh* It still hasn’t been fixed yet.
It was so heartbreaking to see my 11-year-old son like that, but I know that this is what had to be done to keep him AND me and my younger son safe. So, D and I spent about 2 weeks by ourselves in our new house (which, incidentally, has NO furniture at first. Maybe one day I will go into the drama I went through to try and get some furniture, but I am still traumatized by the experience. But we have furniture now. Very nice, actually.) About three weeks after that G spent the weekend at an emergency facility. So far, since then, we haven’t come close to that again.
So now, we have a beautiful apartment in a brand-newly built building. It’s in the middle of the ghetto in a huge city, but actually it’s not that bad. G has some culture shock still to get around, especialy at school, but we are working really hard to figure out things together. I can’t imagine how it would feel to go from being the “black kid” in a mostly-white community, to suddenly being the “white kid” in a mostly black community.
Both the boys are in school, and for the moment, I have pretty much been taking a break. I am still somewhat hesitant to get a job because I don’t want C (who, of course, if my ex and my younger son’s father, and the main reason we are here in the first place) to find out where I am, but I am slowly getting over it and becoming a bit more confident in myself and my surroundings. I am going through a bit of a depressed phase right now, but I think it has more to do with getting out of “crisis mode” and returning to normal sanity. Almost feels like a let-down, you know?
Ouch…if you are still with me after all of that crap, bravo! Here’s a cookie. Thanks. 🙂