More Neighbor Drama: Peephole Vision

If you’ve been reading my blog, or follow me on twitter, or know me, you know that I have been having “issues” with my new upstairs neighbor. It started off with hearing loud slamming and stomping upstairs at the hours of 2, 3, 4 and 6 AM. I wrote a letter asking for her to keep it down and she responded favorably. I thought it was all worked out, boy was I wrong. It escalated to even more loud noises and being woke up in the middle of the night. My notes were useless because she would eventually write back, to basically get over it, it’s an apartment. Although, yes it’s an apartment, no one should be making such loud noises that I’m jolted awake in the middle of the night. So, I decided to notify our apartment manager, who has a difficult time understanding how such a petite little lady could make so much noise. However, this sweet little lady has two, not so sweet, daughters, that I assume live with her most of the time, at least one of them, of whom I’ve had issues, I’ll get to that. The landlord spoke with the upstairs neighbor and I agreed to make the best of the situation. My upstairs neighbor, the “mom” later ran into my husband and apologized for any noises and told him she had lupus. I decided I would be compassionate and ignore any noises at night. I decided that her daughters were likely helping their mom out and that because I understand what it’s like to live with chronic pain issues, I would be compassionate and patient. I even bought some ear plugs so that I could sleep in peace; even though I could still hear them with ear plugs in!

I had a couple of weeks of peace. Meaning, I felt much better because I accepted the noise and felt comfortable again in my own home. I realize this is an apartment, but for me, it’s my home. I cherish my privacy and comfort and when I feel anxious, I don’t feel safe here. But, I told my apartment manager she had nothing to worry about, that I was going to pray about the situation and be compassionate. Well, that all changed until I ran into one of the daughters. The one with the mugshot. I mentioned before that I found a mugshot of one of the daughters online for petty larceny, which occurred last year. Granted, we all have a past, and I don’t know the full story, I just know she has a mugshot and it did give me alarm. I do realize that everyone can change and you never know what any of your neighbors does in their past. However, knowing this made me a bit concerned because we have items in our storage down in the basement. Granted, ours is locked up, but another resident doesn’t have anything secured.

Regardless, I ran into, I’ll call her “D”. I went down to do my laundry the other day and she came down shortly after. She said hello and I returned the greeting. As I was attending to my laundry, she said she read that I was vegan, which I had included in a previous note to her mom. We discussed how both of us are vegan and for how long. When I asked her why her mom decided to go vegan, she seemed confused. I honestly don’t understand the look on her face, but she kind of looked different when I inquired. Like, perhaps she didn’t like me asking questions? Granted, I don’t know her at all, so it could have been nothing. I just noticed a change in her face when I started to ask questions. The discussion progressed to how she currently lives in an apartment with hardwood floors that has a washer and dryer located in the unit; granted, I was curious why she was always doing laundry here. She could be helping her mom, but surely her mom doesn’t have that much laundry. I mean, she does laundry more often than I do and there are two of us here. I assume that she lives with her mom part of the time, even though she’s not on the lease. I only assume this because I once saw a piece of mail with her name on it and it had a change of address from the post office. Why would her mail be redirected here if she had her own apartment? She then asks me what field I work in. I explained that I am disabled and that I haven’t worked in two years, but had worked as a social worker. She said oh, well you are walking just fine right now. As if that is the only issue that could prevent me from working? Just to let anyone reading this that doesn’t have a disability, it’s very rude to suggest this to anyone, that just because they look fine, doesn’t mean they don’t deal with other issues. I explained that I was having a decent day, that many days are bed days. I said I understood that her mom has lupus, of which she said, oh well, my mother and I are extremely private, we don’t tell everyone everything. I’m not sure where that came from except that I shared in one of my letters that I had fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis. Perhaps, she feels like I’m sharing too much? Perhaps she doesn’t like that I’m on disability? I have no idea what could possibly be going through her head. She then said she was in school for pre-med. I asked what part, as in how far along she was in her studies, to which she gave me that annoyed look, and said I’m pre-med I’m just in the beginning. I didn’t inquire further; however, I kept thinking perhaps she needs to work on her bedside manner and not assume that someone who can walk doesn’t have a disability.

I left out one key point, prior to my going down to the basement to do my laundry, I noticed a note on her mom’s mailbox. It said that there were pieces of mail in the shared plastic bin, where the mailman puts larger mail items such as magazines. The note stated that she noticed she had several pieces of mail there but at the time she was unable to grab them. She stated that when she returned, the mail was then gone. When I walked upstairs to return to my apartment, D was right behind me. I mentioned that I had read her moms note about the mail. I asked if perhaps she spoke with the neighbor upstairs, to which she said oh yes of course and she said she would never take our mail. Then I asked if she spoke with the mailman, perhaps he took it the next day because it wasn’t picked up. She claimed she was there when the mailman delivered the mail the next day and that he said he didn’t take it. I asked if she spoke with our apartment manager who will clean out the bins if mail is sitting in there for awhile. She again claimed of course not, as this was only two days. I was struck by the suggestion that she thinks that I took her mail. She did not come out and say this, but she glared at me and I am pretty certain she thinks I have her mail. Which I would never take anyone’s mail! That is ludicrous!

Later on when I went down to put my clothes into the dryer, I unlocked the basement door, which locks anytime it’s closed shut. I was surprised as D was sitting on her mom’s dryer reading a magazine. I didn’t realize anyone was down there because the basement door was shut. I didn’t say much to her and we engaged in short conversation. She mentioned how we will be getting a young couple moving in across the hall, which she stated that she hoped they liked to party and have fun. To which, I was thinking, please I hope they don’t! I don’t need any more drama! I came back upstairs and later my husband brought in the mail. I was standing by my front door reading the mail when I heard the basement door slam shut. I peeked out the peephole and D was walking by and she glared at my door and flipped it off! She gave me the middle finger! I was shocked. I have no idea what could have prompted this reaction, as she did not seem angry, except those couple of times she seemed to not like my asking questions. I then wondered if perhaps she could see me peeking through the peephole. I had my husband look and I looked, and you cannot see anyone who is looking through. My husband was pissed and up until this point, it has always been me writing the letters and dealing with everything. He wrote a letter to the upstairs neighbor telling her that we did not take her mail and that if someone has done that, then we also need to be aware as then we have a thief that needs to be reported. He ended the note saying, “and what’s up with flipping us off?”. About fifteen minutes later, I heard D come down the stairs and put something outside our door. It was my husbands note crumpled up into a ball. She didn’t write anything on it, just crumpled it up. He left a voicemail with our apartment manager that this situation needs to be resolved or we’re going to have to move. I could later hear that the mom came home, yes, they are so loud I can tell when one returns home! When the mom left to take the dog out for a walk, which I can hear because my door is right by the stairs that they have to walk by to get to the outside, D started stomping and slamming things at full force; it was obviously on purpose. When her mom returned, she stopped.

Incidentally, yesterday at about 10pm, it’s always late when they start making noise. The mom and daughter returned home. Again, I heard loud slamming noises and finally I heard the basement door slam shut. I peeked out the peephole and D walked by hunched down as far as she could so to try and not be seen. What she doesn’t realize is that the peephole shows a full aerial so she could be crawling and I could still see her. How insane is that???? I admit, my health issues have been affected by all of this. Thankfully I have Xanax for when my anxiety gets bad and I’ve had to take it daily for the past three weeks. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. My husband tells me to not look out the peephole any more. I don’t feel safe going into the basement or even to get my mail. I don’t want to run into D and I feel that she could retaliate for what she thinks I’ve done. The apartment manager is on vacation until tomorrow, so I hope she will call so I can update her on this situation. I honestly don’t know what she can do. My hands shake just thinking about this situation. I’ve been looking online for other apartments, which really sucks because my husband and I both love our apartment. We have lived here for just shy of 4 years; our lease is up next month. We will have to make a decision soon as to what we’re going to do. Most of my twitter friends feel it’s time for me to move. That this is not good for my health and that D will not get better. I am her target and she is not capable of acting like an adult.

I just hate having to leave my home, but I also hate feeling like a prisoner in my own home. We have a couple more weeks until we have to decide whether we’re going to renew our lease or not. I don’t know if I can handle another year like this. I miss the old boring way things used to be!