I broke my foot installing a smoke detector battery because the work order was closed instead of completed. I let the broken dishwasher go because I don’t even use it anyway. I ignored the broken kitchen drawers that collapse onto my feet (breaking another toe) because apparently I was expected to become both tenant and maintenance staff at the same time.

I paid $1,300 of my own money to address an infestation I was repeatedly told either wasn’t real or wasn’t serious. I was gaslit over electrical problems. Gaslit about how dust accumulates and passes through my vents and blows directly into my face as I sleep. Gaslit over ventilation. Gaslit over the thermostat. (Just used my space heater). Gaslit over the built-in dehumidifier that was supposed to help control moisture but clearly wasn’t functioning the way it should.

So I adapted.

I used my own dehumidifier to manage the moisture buildup myself. I bought multiple air purifiers and continuously pay for filters and increased electricity just to breathe in a space I already pay rent for. I adjusted. I compensated. I carried problems that were never supposed to become my personal financial responsibility in the first place.

And we still haven’t discussed the maggots that were in the refrigerator and freezer that passed move-in inspection somehow. Or what the apartment looked like when I moved in after I specifically requested it be cleaned beforehand.

What becomes exhausting is not just the conditions themselves, but the constant requirement to prove that your discomfort is legitimate while actively living inside of it.

So after being dismissed three separate times in eight months about the most recent issue; a neglected leak, possible mold exposure, deteriorating air quality, and now a medical emergency affecting my respiratory system, the real question is not why I called the city.

The real question is: how many opportunities was I supposed to give people to care before I was finally allowed to protect myself?

Because eventually, survival stops sounding “dramatic” to the people who never had to live through the conditions long enough to normalize them.

I hope you understand.