We finally got a 3-bed council house last year after years on the list. When they first brought in the A,B,C,D,and emergency bands, they put us in band C, and I long suspected that we should have been at least band B. (When a local councillor was canvassing for votes, we invited him in - he took one look, emailed the HA there and then, an inspector was sent round who classified us as statutorily overcrowded and we were moved to band A and housed within 6 weeks)
It was awful having 6 of us crammed into a dangerous 1-bed flat whilst MIL and SIL rattled around their large 3-bed HA house, but since we got our wonderful house, I am not leaving it until they carry me out in a box.
We spent 13 years in the old privately rented flat. When I first moved in, it was me and DD 1&2. Then I met DH, we decided to buy after our wedding, found out DD3 was on the way a week after our wedding, and then prices went from around £30k for a 2-bed flat to £80k then to £120k (!!!) in the blink of an eye. We were priced out of property.
Ok, I can deal, I IKEAly cubed the flat, and tried to ignore the mushrooms growing in the one proper bedroom and bathroom, put CO2 detectors everywhere to counteract the fact that the LL hadn't done a gas safety check for years, our kitchen was so small (fine when it was DDs and me) that we could have a fridge or an oven but not both - thank fucketty fuck for combi microwaves - and repeated the mantra "at least we have a roof and that's grand" over again.
DD3 contracted meningitis at 13months, nearly died - to read on the Shelter website that children living in overcrowded, substandard accomodation are ten times more likely to get meningitis was like a slap in the face.
LL was a lovely bloke, but not too hot on the repairs front, but as he left us alone we just got on with it. And having lovely neighbours made it bearable, became best friends; Until she and husband got a little too close.
Whilst mending our marriage, DS was sparked into life - and he saved my life, because the strain of what had happened plus EX-BF then going Fatal Attraction on me, to the point that I had to get the police involved, plus living in that scary shithole...
I wasn't going to commit legal murder to make other people feel better. As I told the midwife, it's not my unborn baby's fault that his father's a cunt.
So every week when the houses to be bid on went live, I'd bid bid bid, and even though it was only 5 minutes since the houses came up, there'd be 20, 40, 70 people in front of us. Then Psychoknickers next door would start her horrific cackling. One night I simply lost it, had a meltdown, ended up on strong antidepressants.
So when we got this wonderful, wonderful house, it actually saved my life. My DCs have space to play, to BE children. We have a safe boiler, safe electrics, NO MUSHROOMS!!!, a kitchen we can actually cook in, a garden we can go in without being harrassed by Psychoknickers, we have space to breathe. DH and I actually have a bed and our own room (we slept on a sofabed, not good for someone with my crappy joints) and OH!
We are so happy now.
Even though I had to go THOUSANDS into debt to move here (had to get beds, a cooker, carpets etc) this home...I cannot convey what it means to us. I don't know how much longer I could have coped or survived.
So, no, I cannot leave here. As Jessie says in Toy Story 2 "I won't go back in the dark".
Anyways, it's all academical, because housing costs being what they are, I doubt our DCs will ever be able to move out 