How I Became Homeless While Trying to Stay Alive and Safe

I never imagined I’d be writing something like this. I didn’t lose my housing because I refused to pay rent or walked away from my responsibilities. I lost my housing because I kept asking for safe, livable conditions — and because when I got sick and spoke up, the system didn’t protect me. This happened across two different apartments, back to back.

The First Apartment: Dunn Irvin Avenue
I didn’t choose to leave my first apartment. On Dunn Irvin Avenue, there were ongoing habitability problems — water issues, moisture, structural defects, and conditions that made the apartment feel unsafe and unhealthy. I reported these issues and followed the process I was supposed to follow. I fell down the stairs and had to have emergency spinal surgery along with 8 weeks of no work and a year of healing.

Then I was told by code enforcement that if I did not repair the sink myself, my apartment would be condemned. I was a tenant — not the property owner — yet I was being forced to make repairs or lose my home.

Three days later, my body gave out. I became seriously ill and was diagnosed with pneumonia. I couldn’t safely stay in the apartment while waiting for repairs that were supposed to be made — repairs that never actually happened. I was forced into a hotel, paying completely out of pocket, while trying to recover. That hotel stay turned into months.

I continued working. I went to doctors’ appointments. I took care of my dog. I tried to keep my life functioning while living out of hotels and watching my health decline. During that time, I developed kidney issues and severe stomach problems. There were weeks where I could barely eat.

Three months later — while I was already displaced and living in a hotel — the landlord filed a tenant holding over case against me. I wasn’t holding over. I had been forced out while sick.

Being Alone in the Process
What made everything harder was that I wasn’t able to get legal help when I needed it most. In both cases, I reached out to Legal Aid for representation. In both cases, I was denied representation just four days before my hearings. That left me scrambling, sick, and unrepresented, trying to understand housing law and court procedure on my own while my housing was on the line.

By the time I walked into court, I was already exhausted and alone.

The Second Apartment: West Church Street
I moved into my next apartment because I was desperate for stability and a place to finally recover. I truly believed this would be a fresh start. Instead, it became another situation where I felt unsafe — only this time, I was already exhausted and vulnerable.

At move-in, I was charged a double security deposit and a separate utilities deposit. I later realized I had been deceived about the terms, and after everything I had just been through, I didn’t feel safe giving the landlord even more money.

Once I was living there, serious problems became impossible to ignore. There were areas without heat. I started seeing roaches and mice. Many of the windows were painted shut or broken, which meant I couldn’t ventilate the apartment. Air from the downstairs unit came directly into my space — especially when they cooked — filling my apartment with smoke, fumes, and strong odors that I couldn’t escape.

My body started reacting almost immediately. I had nosebleeds and painful sores inside my nose. My nasal passages felt raw and irritated all the time. I developed a dry cough and noticed black specks in my mucus. Every morning, my face was swollen and my fingers stiff and puffy. My joints hurt. I had headaches, brain fog, trouble breathing, and sensitivity to light.

What scared me most was how consistent it was. When I left the apartment, I started feeling better within about an hour. When I came back, my symptoms returned within 20 to 30 minutes. It happened again and again. I knew this wasn’t anxiety or imagination. It was my body reacting to where I was living.

When Things Escalated
While I was dealing with these habitability issues at 551 West Church Street, code enforcement became involved. Shortly after that, everything escalated very suddenly. I was arrested on a warrant, and my car was towed, even though I was not given any citation related to my vehicle.

Losing my car meant losing transportation, access to my belongings, and a major part of my stability. It felt like housing problems that should have been handled safely and carefully were suddenly being treated as punishment instead.

Trying to Protect Myself
I didn’t want to stop paying rent. I wanted the apartment to be safe. After being overcharged at move-in and discovering serious habitability issues — no heat in areas, pest infestations, unsafe air, and worsening health — I did the only thing I felt I could do to protect myself. I followed the law and withheld rent through the proper process, filing for rent escrow because the conditions weren’t being addressed.

This was never about refusing to pay. It was about not being deceived again and not getting sicker.

What Happened in Court
I believed court was where things would finally make sense. Instead, my evidence wasn’t meaningfully reviewed. I wasn’t truly heard. The same judge ruled in favor of the landlord again and again, and I felt invisible.

Then, on the day of one of my hearings, everything collapsed. Right before court, I was arrested on that warrant. I was removed from the courthouse. My car had already been towed from the court parking garage — with my belongings inside. For days, I had no access to my car, my property, or my stability.

I missed work. I lost income. I lost my footing. It felt like the ground disappeared beneath me.

The Eviction
Despite filing appeals and trying to keep fighting, I was evicted on January 8, 2026. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I ended up living out of my car and staying in hotels when I could afford it. I lost my home, access to my belongings, and any sense of safety I had left.

At one point, while I was physically at the courthouse filing paperwork, a sheriff and the landlord’s agent entered my apartment without showing me any paperwork. I wasn’t served anything. I only learned about it afterward. I felt completely powerless.

After Everything
After the eviction, my security deposit was never returned. I never received any explanation. Just silence.

Now I’m navigating homelessness, ongoing health issues, and the trauma of being pushed out of housing while sick and trying to survive. I followed the rules. I asked for help. I kept working. I went to doctors. I took care of my dog. And still, I lost my home.

Why I’m Sharing This
I’m sharing this because I know I’m not the only person this happens to. When housing becomes unsafe, tenants are told to speak up. But when we do — especially when we’re sick, overcharged, and left without representation — the system often escalates instead of protecting us.

I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted a safe place to live and recover.