Tuesday, October 6, 2009

When The Hunters Came

This is Part 5 of my Mid-Live Crisis series.

So this fine and fabulous middle-aged deer is walking along, minding her business, and along comes some bright lights. She's seen them many times and had some close calls, but always managed to jump out of harm's way.

Right now she's tired, 'cause she missed her dead mama too much and way longer than she should have. Her mom told her this in a dream from the Spirit World, and said she couldn't protect her no more, that she had to move on.

Our deer was left feeling even lonelier, because she's been going to long without the loving she needed from a mate. Ain't her fault the hunters been baggin' so many of the fellas for so many years. One way or another, they've been disappearing and their population reduced from being put into cages or their graves.

She worries a lot that her own young'un, an almost 21 year old fun-loving stag, whose muscular brown body might catch the eye of hunters - again. The next time they might get lucky at his expense. She doesn't worry too much about her young doe, who is generally cautious where she steps, but recently displayed one minor act of recklessness.

So Lady Deer has been mulling over all this shit in a mid-life crisis, and she wasn't prepared when the hunters came after her...


It was mid-late June. The letter had been pushed under my door a few minutes after the rental office closed. In effect, it said that according to county rules, they could reclaim their property by simply giving a sixty day notice without giving a reason, and that I had until the end of August to move.

I pay my rent on time. In May, I had paid up for that month and June, as I often do to get it out of the way. So what the hell was the problem? And why would the sneaky bitch landlady give me this notice to vacate on a late Saturday, when I couldn't ask her why until Tuesday?

That was a baaaad weekend. The best I could figure out is that my landlady and I had a rocky relationship, particularly in the past two years. She's moody and prone to be abrasive as it is, and years ago she often appeared to have a hangover when she showed up to work. She's also one of those self-important people who acts like she likes to argue with tenants.

She's also white and from a state known for producing some of the most ignorant trailer trash in the country. I won't come out and say she's racist, because that's impossible to prove, but I will say she reminds me of one. I'm certain she suffers from that disease known as white entitlement, where good manners and fairness are not needed in interacting with non-whites.

This manifests itself in multiple ways, from making you wait endlessly to get your dishwasher repaired because she assumes it's your fault and not a mechanical defect; speaking to you in condescending and self-righteous tone when ask why it's taking three weeks when it should take three days; and doing multiple inspections on your apartment where she complains about dust in places only someone 6'5 would see - and then returns to see if the dust is gone. Petty shit like that.

Awhile back, I got tired of it and I complained to her boss. She backed off, but that bitch carries a grudge to the extent that she likes to destroy people, no matter how wrong she was. She laid low until she was able to invent an excuse to make me disappear.

To make a long story short, it took me three weeks, umpteen emails, and a meeting with her boss to find out her bogus reason. I won't go into details since I'm still mulling over whether or not to sue, but it's so trifling that even their own attorney told her boss that a tenant cannot be evicted for retaliation.

He later said he "was speaking in general, and not about the case", but that's a lie. Lots of lies fly when management gets caught doing wrong, making shit hard to prove. To admit she acted inappropriately would make them vulnerable to a lawsuit. He colluded with her and told another lie, and said "you two should apologize to one another, and maybe things will work out."

Apologize for what? For not grinning at her abusiveness, and complaining she's unfair and unprofessional? I have too much pride to apologize to a hater who took so much pleasure when she told me there was no reason I was being asked to move. Seriously, she took sadistic joy in telling me that. She could barely keep from laughing.

Well, they say pride goeth before the fall.

I began falling... even more than I already had been while suffering through an unexpected mid-life crisis.

What to do? And where the fuck would we live? I couldn't think of a relative who would take all three of us temporarily, so as during slavery, would my family have to be split up?

When looking for an apartment, it's all about the paystubs, and no, they're not interested in seeing the hard cash you have stashed away in your safety deposit box, not because you're doing anything illegal, but because you don't trust the banks.

Thus, I was screwed.

Like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck sporting a Confederate flag, I froze.


Life can be challenging and hard enough at times in the absence of racism. Add that to the mix, and it really can break your spirit. I have never been poor, homeless, on welfare, nor lived in a shelter. I have worked with people who have, but it never occurred to me it could happen to me. I thought of my education and my savings as a bullet-proof vest from all of this.

I could not find another apartment to rent in such a short time. My income is simply too low, and it's low because I like being a stay at home mother.

I wasn't with my son until it was too late. He went from shitty foster care as a toddler to being adopted by me, and I was a great mother except I worked long hours. My latchkey kid was lonely. By that time I wised up, he had hit his early teens, the Bloods and streets claimed him for several long years.

I was a stay at home mom with my daughter, who is seven years younger; another piece of luck for her is I got her as an infant. Grandma did much of her babysitting, and when she was seven and he fourteen and getting into real trouble, I sold my property and went part-time so I'd be home.

The difference in the effects of how they were parented is striking: she's on the honor roll and has a calm temperament; he never finished high school, and only this year has he started to chill out from his stormy teens.

Now suddenly, our modest lifestyle was threatened because of the actions of one vicious, entitled bitch who hunted me down and shot me.

Too much stress can lead the body to illness. You might become a little less adaptable to trauma when you get older. I've been wounded before by racism, other "isms", along with the normal wear and tear of life. Accepting that I'm not a young woman anymore, and coming to grips with the fact that so many people I cared about are gone, especially my mom, was the mid-crisis I still wasn't quite out of.

But now, my body began to express my feelings. I tried to hide them from everyone but inside, my heart and soul were bleeding. I began coughing a spat of blood each morning.

No health insurance, no place to live soon, no luck on the job search, and no hope. Could it be lung cancer, from my years of off and on smoking? Would I die in a homeless shelter from this?

No. No way, my mind thought, I won't go out like that, but then it took that dangerous turn, and I began wondering who would be best to take custody of my youngest if... "something" happened to me before things got that bad.

I tried to shut off that thought when it would unexpectedly come, and I'd close my eyes and sit quietly, and daydream about better days. But when I'd open my eyes, realty was there, like a loaded shotgun staring me in the face.

In the span of a few weeks, I went from stagnation to being frozen, and now, emotionally, I was like a dying deer...


... and for the first time ever, my children were, in effect, motherless, because psychologically, I simply was not there.

This was Part 5 of my Mid-Life Crisis series.
To be continued...


  1. Good post, Kit.

    There are two things I can't stand: hunting and boxing. They call boxing an art. But what it's really an opportunity for white people to watch and bet on blacks, latinos and Russians as they batter each other's brains out. Given the overwhelming reports of the damage done to the brain, among other things, this sport cannot e justified in a truly civilized, non-violent society.

    My male friends, about five or so smart ass, self-centered New Yorkers who think they know everything but can't shoot worth a damn, say they hunt-- get this--"...to thin out the herd." No, they are not hunting for themselves. They are providing a service to society. Pleeease. Why don't they say why they're really driving miles away from home to sit up in trees in the cold? It's to get away from their "overbearing" wives (In other words, a force of nature they can't control) if only for a few days and to satisfy their lust to compete, to control, to "conquer" nature.

    I think the heard that really needs to be thinned out are people who steadfastly refuse exist with nature but endeavor to enslave it.

  2. Dear Kit,
    This is a heck of series, phenomenal writing!

    I'm sorry this happened to you and I can only imagine the frustration,anger and disappointment that you must have felt when this sick lady "shot" you. I believe your anger is the righteous kind and you shouldn't have to apologize for a thing. It's sad that we live among predators or like you said "hunters," yet we do. The losses you have sustained would make anybody vulnerable to depression and despair, you should be commended for surviving theses ordeals that were not of your own making.

    With all that said, you obviously are still standing. This sick woman may have "shot" you, but you have survived the wound. Wherever this story leads, you've seemed to have lived a life serving others. That's something I respect and admire.

    As far as this lady and the management company goes, I can't help but think of Rosa Parks. She showed righteous anger in the face of injustice by not giving up her seat. Maybe a lawsuit, no matter what the result, might be a way of showing righteous anger.

  3. Hey Kit, keep ya head up like Pac said. I hope you find a way to make things better... everybody is going through hard times right now.

    Please be strong for your family.

  4. Kit, I love this piece! I like how you switched up your writing style yet your message and your emotions are coming through loud and clear.

    I am looking forward to the next installment...its interesting how you mentioned your kids were motherless because emotionally you were not there. I can't help but think how often that happens and how I know even I have been there at times where my body is present but my mind is not.

    As someone who has struggled with losing her own Mama 5 years ago yet still calling out to her, I can relate. Just the other day I was out on the porch having a butt, talking up to her and wishing as I do often that she could come back for just an hour..to talk and guide me.

    Thank you for sharing this powerful yet private piece with us.

  5. Kit, I'm sorry I got off point talking about hunting and boxing. I was really talking about violence; and I'm sorry about the violence you and your kids had to endure. I know it must really hurt to think that, at a certain point, you weren't there. You had checked out. But like Truth say you're still holding up. Never give up. Never stop fighting.

  6. Mac, thanks for returning. Lol, I'm guessing you read the first part and thought it was a story about hunting, then returned to finish it! I'm glad you did.

    Truth, you comment about my writing is inspirational. Thank you.

    Jay, Thanks for the cyber hug, cuz that what it was. Hugs back to you.

    BGIM, Thanks for checking this out, truly. A cousin told me not long after my mother's death that now I was in a club, that only people who have lost theirs can understand. She was right. In a good relationship, your mother is the one you turn to when life takes a downturn, no matter how old you are. I really missed her this year, even though it's been five years. And it's weird, that even though she's dead, she mothered me in my dreams, even the last one, when she said it was time for her to go. As so often in life, she was right.

  7. Hey Kit,

    I hope you are feeling better. This depression and added stress really sucks ass.

    I feel the same way about missing my dad and some days I cry for hours.

    I hope you can find some extra inspiration to help you pull through.

  8. Thanks, TriState. I remember well how tough it was for you when you lost your dad.

    About this post, folks. It's part of my seriies, Mid-Life Crisis, which takes a rear-view look in the mirror at what I what I experienced for the first half of this year. It is only after I went through it that I could share it.

  9. Kit, from your last comment I think that you have come out swinging on the other side and in a better place. I went through something very similar this year; perhaps I'll tell you about it if you'd like me to email you but I'll not blog it, for my own reasons. There was a period of several months, though, that I felt kicked to the point of paralysis by someone who did it just because she could.

    I realize that now, but I didn't then.

    I have come out better and stronger on the other side. I am sure you have as well, or if not, that you will soon. You have too much power within. Sometimes it gets a bit hidden, but it cannot be extinguished.

  10. Laurel! Sure, feel free to email me. And does this comment mean you're all settled in and back to blogging? Hope so. *hug*

  11. From the few details you gave, it sounds like that woman treated you with racist scorn. Not that she'd ever admit it. I wish white people who act like that could see how ugly it makes them.

    You wrote,

    I'm certain she suffers from that disease known as white entitlement, where good manners and fairness are not needed in interacting with non-whites.

    Exactly. I hope that's dying out, but then, I do see it in young ones too. And call them on it -- they seem more receptive to that than the older ones. Even if you win in a suit against that woman, there's little reason to think she see the racist errors of her ways.

    Glad to hear you sounding stronger, Kit. I hope to read in future installments that you're mostly healed up now.

  12. Macon, thank you, and those my sentiments too. One day she even told me she voted for Obama, but in the context of the conversation, race had not been brought up in any shape or form, however she was being a racist ass and must have read my mind. This was long before she did her dirt. The bitch is just plain evil.

    I'm 95% over it, though. I'll upload another installment on this series next week, but she's not the main focus.

    Sagacious, Hell man, I thought you knew that! I left a comment on one of your posts weeks ago. I'll visit you right now.

  13. Kit, I started blogging again. Not sure how long it will last. But I've glad to see that you're back and at the top of your game.

  14. Readers, I have yet to finish this series because although a large part of me felt like the mid-life crisis was over by the end of August, something I could not put my finger on kept telling me that wasn't. I was right.

    From mid-November and up through now, you can get a hint of this reflected in some of my posts. While life feels entirely different from the first 8 months of the year, I've done a lot of introspection on how the same kinds of bad decisions I made in my youth are so common in youth today, and how unfortunate it is that we do so many things that we don't know that we'll regret later. Regrets are probably the heart of any mid-life crisis.

    Speaking of regret and how mistakes can build character, watch this remarkable scene which I uploaded on
    my You Tube Channel

    As for the way this particular post ended, with for the first time ever... I simply was not there...", I did get past that part after those few awful weeks, just so you'll know.


Hi, this is Kit.

I haven't posted since summer 2010, and comment moderation has been on for a very long time.

My old blogger friends (you know who you are) are welcome to email me.

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