Apartment Life and I
I am not built for apartment living. I envy the chic city versed individuals who prefer the convenience of covered parking and no maintenance. I know a lot of people live in apartments because they don’t have another option.
I’m currently one of the latter category.
I moved out of my parent’s home in 2008 and joined the ranks of young humans trying to make their own households. Thrifted furniture and buckets of builder grade paint just to try to make it home. I am cursed as far as apartment choosing goes. I don’t know why I can’t find something that feels like literal hell on earth or if I am just absolutely not constructed for shared residency, perhaps some combination of both.
My first apartment was under the neighborhood coke dealers and I had to stand in my kitchen on the weekends and hold my cupboard doors shut lest my few dishes fall out and crash all over the floor. I tried complaining to the super who was in charge of general building peace, but as their biggest client, you could tell her interests were certainly not in the comfort of her dealer’s neighbors.
From there we moved into a huuuuuuge building that immediately went into full construction and I listened to 8 hours a day of jackhammer insanity so bad it would make your teeth vibrate, in between water shut offs and flooded basement parking. And that’s leaving out any bits and pieces about neighbors. Especially the unit that go evicted and left 2 beautiful dogs inside that we had to feed under a crack in the door for some 2 weeks. Heartbreaking.
I thought I had found a break when I moved to my (then) partner’s rented farm. Sure the house was absolutely awful with mold issues and no reliable heat to count on, but it meant privacy for once surely? Until his parents moved onto the property, unbeknownst to me they had all rented it together, which meant they were entitled to be there apparently. Cue a tripled hydro bill and never knowing when someone was barging in the door to use the loo.
After leaving that situation I had the blessing of moving in with someone who at the time just believed in me needing somewhere safe to live, and later becoming my family. They had a beautiful rec room in the basement with a bathroom, and it became my lovely little home. I learned how to live and function in a loving supportive family. I am forever grateful for the time I spent there because I learned so much.
Life marches on as it tends to do, I got married, she got engaged. This arrangement didn’t work for her future planning and they found their dream home (and it is GORGEOUS) it just left no room for me and my now husband and we had to go to the apartment search again.
Guelph has a 0% vacancy rate, you have to be crafty, savvy and frankly wealthy to get a good spot to be. I am none of these things. I posted an ad on kijiji, our budget is limited because we are a nearly single income family (I am blessed to have private benefits that pay out a small amount of disability, but we have to account for the possibility of that disappearing at any point in time). Husband at the time worked in manufacturing, a good job, but not “nice apartment” money job. I received a reply about a basement unit as a family was about to move out, I probably should have read the red flag, but they just said they needed more room with their new baby.
I reiterate, I probably should have looked for red flags.
Because of a lack of options we’ve been here for two and a half years (thanks Covid, you really did us a solid here, not) we’ve been living in an unmitigated personal hell. I won’t go into details about the horror show we’re living under, just that we need to leave, badly. The discrimination from the landlord and the outright abuse from the upstairs neighbors have made this so intolerable I do not know how to continue here.
I don’t know how people manage to tolerate long term apartment life. I look at my dad and how he was raised in an old duplex, sometimes I wonder if that is why he is so terrible at finding any kind of calm at any point. If the condo world is for you, gods bless, I know it can be a great walkable, short commute option with a great sense of community. I have never managed to find that life and I am more than done trying. At 35 I just want to be by myself.
So here’s some of the origin story as to me trying to find my way back to quiet, solitude, and privacy. I know that comes with considerations for seeing to basic shopping, I know there’s privilege in being able to go and obtain things, and in husband being able to commute to work. For us though, these are good trades that will give us a better quality of life. “Because survival is insufficient” – Star Trek Voyager.