Scary Late Night Drama at the Motel 

Anyone who knows my situation will know that due to being made to leave where I was staying before , I now live in a motel, where I’ve been since the end of October.

I didn’t feel unsafe here for the first few weeks, although there were issues with the housekeepers banging on my door because my provider hadn’t paid.  But as time has progressed, I felt increasingly unsafe.  It’s obvious that this motel is being used to house people because there aren’t enough beds in shelters.  There are even families with children staying here.

Aside from the social isolation I experience day in day out, what scares me the most are the other guests.  Usually it’s just noise: banging of furniture, slamming doors, shouting and the noise made by the loud housekeepers.  That alone is enough to trigger my anxiety, misophonia and PTSD.  Most of the time, the noise occurs during the day, which is why I’m trying to adjust my sleep schedule to be somewhat of a night owl.  The noise alone causes me to be a nervous wreck during the day.  Most of the time I just lay here staring out of the window while listening to music.

The police get called here sometimes and I regularly smell marijuana in the hallway.  That doesn’t bother me, as I’d rather people smoked weed than got drunk on alcohol.

I was watching reruns of The Walking Dead last night when I started hearing people banging and shouting, including young children that shouldn’t have been up that late.  Then it escalated and the fire alarm went off, but I was too petrified to leave my room at that point.  A man was shouting abuse and the banging became louder. I heard another man and a woman involved in the argument.  I managed to record some of it.   I saw what looked like either police or security walking down the hall through my spy hole.  This is what I recorded:

​​Sound clip: Drama at the motel

I don’t remember much past 2am. I took 5 Seroquel, because I just wanted to knock myself out at that point.  It was too close for comfort. I overheard some of what the man was saying; it pertained to him wanting his money back.

When I woke this morning , all was quiet. I went down to the lobby, grabbed hot water for coffee and heated up my microwave slop meal, before high tailing it back to my room and locking the door.

I remember reading about a murder that took place here, so I did a search on Google News.  Sure enough, someone was stabbed to death here, in July of 2016.  I didn’t realize it was that recent. I also read that there’s prostitution here and most likely all that comes wth it.

I know things could be worse and for some odd reason, nothing has happened to me yet (touch wood).     I don’t want to name the motel, because most of the people that work here are very nice and I feel bad that they probably have to deal with a lot of bullshit.

I doubt that I’ll be moving into treatment housing anytime soon; construction is raking it sweet time.  My only hope is that a bed becomes available at the YWCA, where at least I won’t have to deal with men and I’ll be in a more central location.

I hope to be able to forgive my former friends Holly and Stephanie someday, for my own sake at the very least.  But while I’m in this predicament, it’s impossible.  My anger is more towards Holy if anything, but both of them assured me of my safety before I left the UK.  I have to laugh (because that’s all I can do) at the time Holy tried to make me look like an idiot on Facebook, by telling me that this area was perfectly safe.

The enough in me feel bad for the guests here that are also homeless and destitute, particularly the children caught up in this.   It must be horrible for them, not having a home or a place to play, having to deal with the shame and embarrassment from living in a motel.   I’m sure there are others here with mental health problems, perhaps as alone and as socially isolated as I am. 

I’ve nothing planned for today, aside from the usual lying in bed and staring at the walls and the ceiling.  I feel extremely anxious and on edge.  Drinking 2 cups of coffee wasn’t the smartest of ideas, but Seroquel gives me a hangover feeling that lingers for hours, if I don’t counter it with caffeine.  


Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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