Of neighbours, community and allotments
Unfortunately you can’t always choose your neighbours. When I moved in, there was a small section in my paperwork about incidents with neighbours and it read “Issues with neighbour however they’ve been resolved”
I never met my neighbour when I moved in. If I had, I might have revised my purchase. I was somewhat blinded by the fact the allotment was a stone throw away from the allotments and whilst the area was a bit iffy, it wasn’t in the worst of the town either.
Unfortunately I live next to an alcoholic and former drug abuser. I know he still smokes (and we’re not talking tobacco here) and think he may be on harder stuff occassionally too - but it’s all circumstantial. The first year or so I wasn’t really bothered by him – his girlfriend at the time was a bit of a pain, but she soon left him. About six months ago his current girlfriend moved in (now fiancee apparently!) and all hell has broken loose. It’s gradually got worse over the past few months until now, where I find myself every other night banging on his door, calling the police to domestics (we’ve even had stabbings in the corridor).
The rest of the block are very nice – many have come from the big smoke trying to escape the inner city areas for various reasons, a couple are hard working, the others are rebuilding their lives. I don’t have a single problem with any of the rest.
My neighbour however makes all our lives hell – but whilst he’s been on his last warning for four years now, it doesn’t ever seem to go anywhere. As the noise and abuse gets louder, we’re gradually pulling together and everyone is offering each other support – but the housing association has been using the line ‘if he’s removed, we might have to put someone worse in his place’. Seeing as the block next to us has actually had a teenager put in who’s drinking, smoking, music and swearing have made their lives hell – most the residents are either retired or in semi-retirement – this threat has made people think twice – better the devil you know?
I’ve been filling in an antisocial behaviour diary. In as little as three weeks it’s full and ready to be returned. The housing association can’t be bothered to respond to my urgent emails in a timely manner – last week I got asked when I’d like a meeting with them to discuss the situation, when I told them I worked full hours and could they make a slightly later time (say around 4:45 in the afternoon) I’ve only been met with silence.
The police are being more helpful, but unfortunately when you’re only sleeping one night in three, there’s only so much abuse you can take. I’m considering moving out, but if I do, it feels like he’s won. After all, it’s a free country, why shouldn’t he come home at 2am singing & swearing loudly, beat up his girlfriend or pour beer in the corridor. What right have I as the only private tenant in the block have to moan about it.
I hope this goes someway to explain why my blogging has become somewhat erratic.
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