It has been eight long months of......what?? I don't know what to call it. Eight months of living out of plastic garbage bags, sleeping on air mattresses, barring people from entering my "home." I cannot even call it my home anymore because I dread being here.
Getting a full night's sleep is a joke. The itching escalates at night and I wind up scratching myself until I bleed. At the present time, I have at least 75 bites on my body. I wake up with ten to fifteen new ones each morning. The boys no longer even sleep here, they're so fed up. I feel better knowing they can sleep bite-free at their dad's house.
This bed bug situation has really opened my eyes to some basic lessons of life:
1. Stuff doesn't matter
2. You can go crazy from scratching
3. Sometimes you need to let go
We will be moving out in a few weeks. Ninety percent of our "stuff" is either already gone or will be staying with the house. I cannot take the chance of bringing these homewreckers with me. We don't have a new place yet, but I refuse to put my family through any more turmoil.
Yes, I am grateful we are all healthy and safe....but this situation has slowly but surely tested all of our mental constitutions. I'm going to quit while I'm still relatively sane.
One of the most frustrating parts of this is that my landlord doesn't believe there are really bed bugs in this house. I have done everything I can to take care of this problem and have not asked him until now to help me out. Alas, I am leaving this "alllergic reaction" to him now. (He believes it is an allergy to something I have brought into the house. Yeah, it is. A reaction to BED BUGS!)
I can say with a clear conscience that this is no longer my problem. Time to move on and enjoy each day itch-free.
