I started playing the ukulele a few months ago and after learning a handful of songs I felt the urge to write some of my own, here is the second song I’ve written. I also performed it on the ukulele for ya’ll – and have attached the video.
I used to spend everyday typing at a computer
I used to spend everyday inputting data
I wasn’t happy but it paid the bills
Then you came into my office and asked me for food
I handed you a jar of peanut butter and you shoved your hand right in
Those were the days, when times were simpler
Those were the days, when I’d dream of being happy with you
When all I would dream of was you coming to ask me to borrow my lighter so you could light up your cigarette
Dreams when you would smoke a lot
and I would take breaks in the middle of the day
I used to spend everyday alone with the kids
It was exhausting but I loved them
Then you’d come and ask me to chat
I would come and talk with you till early morning
Those were the days, when times were simpler
Those were the days, when I’d dream of being happy with you
When all I would dream of was you coming into my room and asking if you could chat about the kids and life
Dreams when you wouldn’t sleep much
and I would take naps in the middle of the day
You would dream of mightier things
every time we would talk you’d sell me a dream
sometimes I’m a writer
sometimes you own a business
Sometimes we have a nanny
She cares for the kids so we can do something together in our free time
Sometimes we’re both writers and we’re on a book tour.
And I hang out with the groupies
and you hang out with the kids
and I got to parties to talk about the book we’d written together
thinking about how I wish were were just chatting together
Cause in those dreams all I was really dreaming about
was you coming into my room and asking if you could chat about the kids and life
Dreams when you wouldn’t sleep much
and I would take naps in the middle of the day
Now I hardly see you, and I hardly see the kids
But I can’t say, I’d have it another way
But that doesn’t mean I don’t dream of
The days we worked together
the days when you would come down to my office and ask me to borrow my lighter
the days when you would come down to my room and ask me to chat
the days when I would just sit and watch you smoke your cigarettes
the days when that was enough to dream about
Dreams when you would smoke a lot
and I would take breaks in the middle of the day
Dreams when you wouldn’t sleep much
and I would take naps in the middle of the day
Dreams when we were much happier
and it felt like it was us against the world
Dreams when we were fighting for one more smoke break
Dreams when we were fighting for one more smoke break
Dreams when we were fighting for one more smoke break
1. From Here Till Utopia (Song For the Desperate) – Ramshackle Glory
The entire album, Live The Dream, is great as far as I’m concerned. I exclusively listened to this album from September to November.
“I don’t know where I fit between the vegans and the nihilists That might be the first thing I’ve said that wasn’t a lie tonight!”
– This has described me for the last 8 years. I still don’t know exactly where I fit between the vegans and the nihilists, though I know I’m not a very “good” vegetarian so maybe I do know where I fit.
This song feels like having too much free time and not knowing what to do with it, it looks like grey, dead grass, lifeless trees, and decay as I walk for walking sake.
“My friend William came to with a message of hope It went: ‘Fuck you and everything you think you know If you don’t step outside the things that you believe They’re gonna kill you.” He said: ‘You think no one’s gonna stop you from dying young and miserable? You’re right! If you want something better, you gotta put that shit aside.’”
– No seriously, fuck you and everything you think you know, if you don’t step outside the things that you believe they are gonna kill you, they almost killed me.
2. More about Alcoholism – Ramshackle Glory
I can’t tell you the number of times I rode down the street on my bike screaming these lyrics. At the time I didn’t have a boss. I thought twice about singing these lyrics when I had a manager, though he sung the lyrics out loud which just felt insincere.
“Aw, shit, I wish I had a job to quit
I wish I had a boss that I could tell to fuck off
Give me the satisfaction of a dramatic exit, and not just a long car ride and a short goodbye in a parking lot.”
3. Day Gaunts – Days N’ Daze
Started listening to this at work per the suggestion of a customer who heard Ramshackle Glory playing and said he can’t stop listening to Days N’ Daze.
“Bugs in the kitchen and mold in the sink
Chuggin’ down the whiskey and you never stop to think
What do we do tomorrow?”
4. Urine Speaks Louder Than Words – Wingnut Dishwashers Union
I found out when I was writing this that it’s commentary on the inaction within activist communities and how meaningless their action-less words are. Stating that instead urinating on authority figures will cause more change.
“But will somebody say is this resistance or a costume party? Either way I think black with bandanas is a boring theme.”
5. We Are All Compost In Training – Ramshackle Glory
“I eat meat and drive trucks and shoot guns and don’t trust in the federal government to solve our problems. You might think I’m joking, but I’m not a republican”
“So I’ll dig up the dirt and I’ll throw down some seeds, because the world needs more spinach, not more motherfuckers like me.”
I’ve song this song dozens of times riding along on my bike. All the while motioning like I’m digging dirt holding a shovel with my two hands. And then throwing down seeds with my right hand, as I bend over closer to the ground. I agree.
6. Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of Your Fist – Ramshackle Glory
This song helped get me through the hard times at the beginning of being gone. With my right glove-less fist thrust in the air I’d sing, “Your heart is the size of a muscle the size of your fist, keep on loving, keep on fighting and hold on, hold on, hold on for you life.” And I’d stare at my first, realizing how small my fist and therefore heart was and how I needed to keep on fighting, keep on loving and hold on for my life.
“Like the time that our friend Chuck came over to our house
He said he needed somebody to take care of his pets
‘Cause he was going out of town
I asked him, “Where,” and he said “New Mexico”
I asked if I could get a ride
He said: “No, you don’t want to follow me
Where it is I’m going” He backed out of the driveway That was the last time we saw him
‘Cause he drove straight to his parent’s cabin And put a bullet in his head”
7. Misanthropic Drunken Loner – Days N’ Daze
“Cause relationships are overrated
Maybe I’m just tired and jaded
But I’m sorry I just like myself more than I like you”
After burning out, I spent a lot of time by myself and I’ve hated a lot more people that I’m used to. At the beginning I’d agree that, “I’m just far more comfortable alone.”
“Human beings are a waste of breath and Don’t think I exclude myself
I’m an asshole just like you
Cause people are ugly and people are hateful
Destructive and greedy
We’re proud and ungrateful
The world would be so much better off without us”
8. I Listened – Apes of the State
This song is the first of Apes of the State that caught my ear. I love the earnest hopelessness that it contains. I have felt in increasing inability to listen and remember about other people and would adore singing this song to someone else – this is totally a move I’d do. I exclusively listened to them for a month or two.
“And how you make poor decisions with the people that you choose to date
And you’ll probably think I’m crazy for this and I’d tell you that I don’t give a shit but that would be a lie because I care
What you think about me
And I just really, desperately want to be your next poor decision
Your next poor decision
Your next poor decision”
9. My Idea of Fun – Wingnut Dishwashers Union
“Like if you don’t want to work, then that becomes your job
There’s a lot of overtime, there’s not many days off
I hope you know that I’m not trying to complain
It just gets hard to explain to people that I know, or kids who come to shows That I just don’t want to talk about the office today.”
– It’s nice to hear this because I relate to it a lot. And have in multiple points in my life.
“And the cops say its a crime for people like me and those friends of mine to want to die
Like my neighbor in St. Pete
She’s been on house arrest down here If she tries to leave her yard they’ll lock her in a cage for years
‘Cause sometimes she wants to die And she shoots dope when she thinks she could die And the law they caught her one too many times Shootin dope when she felt like she could die.”
– The fucked up way we deal with mental health in this society. She can’t kill herself because that’s illegal so she self medicates by shooting dope when she feels like killing herself. But then she gets thrown in jail for doing that.
“Please help me be, please help me be
Please help me be enough Fuck the law, because we’re enough…”
We’re enough.
10. Plate Glass Apology – Apes of the State
I feel this song so much. After obsessively listening to Apes of the State for over a month I realized what they were singing about and why I felt so drawn to their music, cause they are angry, hurt, breakup songs. The best part of this one is that it’s angry, it’s angry, and then it’s honest, apologetic and sad, but only for a few seconds before she gets angry again. Also her craziness of jumping through a plate glass window and stopping a car in the middle of the road feels so close to something I’d do.
“You broke my heart I hope you die, emptier than how I feel inside
And when you lay your head to rest at night I hope that you never fall asleep when you
Think of all the things you do I wish I could just hate you oh I wish all of
These words I said were true”
11. Tonight We’re Gonna Give It 35%– Against Me!
For months every time after I’d hang out with the kids I used to live with and co-parent I’d sing this song. As soon as I’d leave after visiting them, I’d put the song on and I’d shout, “My heart is anywhere but here!” I’d write it on my arm, I’d write it on my chest, and I would stare off into the distance, looking at nothing.
“I can’t believe how naive I was to think this could ever be so simple.”
My recent memory from this song is biking while singing along to this song. I was biking down Penn ave, without my hands on the bars as I often do, as I was crossing Main St the following lyric came on, “Dear Jesus are you listening.” I put my hands together like I was praying, closed my eyes, and turned my head towards the sky as I suddenly screamed those lyrics
12. Olde Tyme Mem’ry – Mischief Brew
Branching out from Ramshackle Glory and Apes of the State this song grabbed me. It’s a song I just want to sing along to, it’s not the lyrics so much as it is the way they are sung. The song is somber, lamenting the past, while at the same time these lament-ers who “settle for white rooms and hollow doors, paper ceilings, padded floors….”
13. Strangers – Apes of the State
“Cause sometimes the people who don’t know the things you’ve done are the only ones who will bother talking to you
Sometimes strangers are the best people to tell your secrets to
Cause they don’t know you”
– So true, I often tell all my secrets to people I’ve just become friends with – often the people I’ve been friends with longer don’t have the patience or the attention span for the secrets I want to tell them – that and they know the importance of them.
“And today I wish that I could put new glasses on your eyes so you could see the world the way I do through mine
Cause then maybe you wouldn’t wanna die you wouldn’t have to stick a needle in your arm
Just to survive!
Cause I see myself in every single part of you and I made it through
So I can’t just sit back and watch you throw away your life”
– This line hurts me because of how much I relate to it. It’s why I don’t have any energy for anyone these days. I used it all up, with a lot of it going to trying to put new glasses on her eyes.
14. Wherever is Your Heart – Brandi Carlile
This was the song playing in the kids car in September. Clarity told me so. I listened to it very briefly and never again. That’s until I heard the littlest one was listening to a song on the album and replacing parts of it with “Jenny.” I don’t know what song that is but I think that it is this song.
I listened to this song on repeat, over and over and over again as I started to regain my emotions, sadness was the first one.
“Even when you’re high, you can get low
Even with your friends you love, you’re still alone
We always find the darkest place to go”
Caught me and made me cry. It felt like it was right, like I had left my home and despite the fact that “your feet may take you far from me, I know wherever is your heart I call home.” I was alone in this world, wandering around by foot. I’d hear these lyrics and stare down as my feet as I walked. Miles I’d walk just to deal with my emotions, one night I walked 13 miles on a whim and never did I find home.
Eventually the song got to me, I pulled up my left sleeve on a cold autumn night, flicked out my blade and waited. I knew like so many times before I’d wait for days, putting off this feeling only to act upon it. It had already been a day and I didn’t have the stamina to outrun it. So after my arm had been chilled I heard the lyrics, “Oh god forgive my mind, oh god forgive my mind, when I come home, when I come home.” And I did 3 quick cuts on my arm. They all drew a blood that I regretted slightly when I was later in a convenience store restroom shoving paper towels in my sleeve so I didn’t get my hoodie covered in blood. This was the last time I cut myself.
Since then I’ve figured out how to deal with my emotions in a more productive way. My new favorite coping mechanism is singing. I sing all these songs all the time. That’s where my emotions go. Having never experienced a normal childhood and therefore never learning how to cope with existence, I now am experiencing being a teenager for the first time. It’s odd, but it’s going really well this time – even if it’s 15 years after it should’ve happened.
Sorry for the distance between posts, recently I’ve been considering deleting this blog. Turns out more people read this than I thought. This feels odd because it is where I share lots of deep emotions and inner thoughts. I’ve received pressure from my family who have had people directing concern for me at them. I don’t want to be pressured to take this down, this blog means a lot to me and has been a great coping mechanism in the hard times in my life. I do want to let all who read it know that this is NOT a blog I use to update folks on my life, in fact the opposite probably happens. I normally go on here to process deep and difficult emotions. When I’m having a good time I just feel too busy to write (this is my main reason for the distance from the last post) and therefore you will primarily see bleak things being expressed often months after they’ve happened. Frankly it’s odd to hear how many people are reading this as it used to be an anonymous blog that few read. But until I decide it’s time to shut it down it’s gonna stay right here. I hope you enjoy.
Picture of the service area of the bike shop after being tidied up.
This past month has been a roller coaster I didn’t expect but it’s been a great ride. Lots of things changed at work. Trek Bicycles, one of the largest bike brands, bought out our struggling, underfunded store allowing the previous owner to retire and us to get the finances and support we need. I’ve also come to better understand my personality and how it has changed as I’ve come into myself. I’m not the introvert I thought I was, instead I’m an emotionally intense extrovert. I’ve been having a grand time extroverting around, going to shows, and just having a good time being me.
So first, comes first, the good news at my work. The previous owner of 5 bike shops in the Pittsburgh area let go of the stores that he had long prior stopped caring about. I’ve worked in this shop for over 2 years, 6 months recently but I also worked here about 5 years ago before I transitioned for a year and a half. The descent from good bike shop to chaotic bike shop started happening shortly before I got there. The well-known service manager stopped caring and eventually left to pursue another career, I left a few months later to transition. Since then it was understaffed and I was brought back into this chaotic scene that needed some serious organizing and was filled with shitty attitudes because of what the staff had experienced.
Trek has come in and turned that around – we cleaned up the shop, reorganizing and reduced the clutter everywhere. We got rid of lots of products that simply weren’t selling and got in new products, new bikes and generally got the place looking a lot nicer. We are all working full-time, which is absurd for winter and really exciting. The three of us who remain at the shop are learning and adjusting to the expectations that Trek has for us and are generally excited for the change I think all of us are. From what the Trek folks say to us we are the store most excited for the change. Being able to switch to positive, hopeful attitudes is really really nice. As is getting new cleaning supplies, tools and soon new work benches and training. I just gotta navigate getting myself a raise too.
They also are employing all 3 of us full-time. This has me excited and kind of dumbfounded. I’ve never worked full time in the winter in a bike shop, that’s a privilege afforded only to management. But here I am trying to adjust from working 16 hours a week to 40 while having to figure out my company health benefits. I’m really glad for the increased hours, while I was starting to figure out how to deal with working so little now I feel more productive with my time and I don’t have the luxury to constantly analyze and second-guess myself. This combined with the positivity of Trek and helped me break out and be more my authentic self.
Being myself didn’t start just cause of Trek but it certainly pushed me along in the process. The first time I really noticed it was on New Years Eve when I was at a party with my friends. The venue was some rich guy’s flat with an eclectic group of queers and friends, music profs, and generally fancy people. I disliked some of the people there but acted as though I liked them. Even engaging in polite conversation with some of them. This got to me and just before midnight I lost it and felt a strong desire to flip tables and destroy things. Instead I went on a walk. It wasn’t until afterwards that I realized that I was frustrated because I was holding myself back from being myself. This led me to more realizations about exactly who I am.
The first thing I stumbled upon was a webpage talking about people who are emotionally intense. I realized that I am emotionally intense. Not long after realizing that I took the Meyers Brigg’s Personality Test. I hadn’t taken one in years but for the longest time I was INFJ, or Introversion, Intuition, Feeling and Judging. I had even read the book, Quiet by Susan Cain about the power of introverts. I strongly identified as an introvert one who got energy from one on one conversations but still needed to retreat and be alone. The test revealed that I wasn’t INFJ anymore instead I’m ENFP. Stunned that two letters changed I discovered I’m more extrovert than introvert and I’m not judging, or structed to perceiving or open and flexible.
While I was always on the cusp, especially for introvert/extrovert, embracing that I’m an extrovert (and not just a cusp extrovert) felt terrific and made so much more sense. I have noticed that I love being the center of attention, I’ve noticed that I’m high energy and I don’t need as much time to reflect as I ended up giving myself. Instead the alone time would make me feel bad, as a thirsted for interaction. It’s so relieving to come more and more into myself. I no longer feel the need to ponder over my actions and to have a 1 or 2 second delay before responded as a figure out how I feel. Now I just respond. I’m certainly not as calculated as I was but I’m so much more authentic than I’ve ever been.
Two weekends ago I really thrived while being one of the most authentic versions of myself I’ve ever been. I went to an after party from 1am to 4am and danced and partied in ways I never have before. I felt free – I lacked the normal self consciousness I have. Instead I felt like I was care free partying like I was in my early 20s. After the party me and my friend, PunkRock, had brunch at 5am at the 24-hour diner. We were both in awe of the previous few hours and that it was 5am. We lost most of the next day as we slept until noon and avoided the light in favor of chatting in the dark and watching Face/Off. I think we both just felt like we were truly living our best lives. I still feel like I’m living my best life 9 days later. Here’s to 2019, as I’ve said to myself for the last several years – 2019 is looking to be the best year of my life thus far.
The recent anti-Semitic shooting in Pittsburgh has left me feeling rattled, sad, scared and fearful for the future. In large part it’s because it was so close to me, I know dozens of people who personally knew those killed in this hate crime and it was in a community I was on the periphery of. It’s clear once again that being in Pittsburgh doesn’t isolate anyone from hate crimes. Important to note the number of anti-black hate crimes that have happened here recently, from the stabbing on the northside, to the guy who was beaten by a group of white supremacist at a bar in Avalon. According to Southern Poverty Law Center there are 36 hate groups in Pennsylvania.
This isn’t news, it isn’t news that they are being emboldened by heinous rhetoric by Trump, and the GOP. And it shouldn’t be a surprise that this increasing hateful rhetoric is having a corresponding increase in hate crimes that have risen for 3 years straight and are at an all time high for the decade. This scares me for my friends, for Pittsburgh and our country. It also brings up a related fear that I’ve been tracking for several months that directly affects me, the government’s attempt to make America inhospitable for trans people.
I’ve been watching this for many months, mostly by reading things from someone I follow on facebook, Brynn Tannehill. She is a writer and worked as a senior defense analyst, she has a great ability to analyze situations and make prediction about different possible outcomes. I remember looking to her to see who was going to win, Hillary or Trump at 11pm on Election day. Since then I’ve read many posts by her warning of trans peoples’ possible erasure from American Society which is a process that is well under way, and there is a good chance it is a history that is already written.
The article that caught me the most that she wrote was a month Before Brett became a Supreme Court Justice entitled, “The SCOTUS Event Horizon for the LGBT Movement.” In it she clearly and systematically lays out a explanation of what will happen and how. This includes the loss of Title VII protections or protection from employment discrimination, right to discriminate laws or the ability to ignore civil rights on religious grounds, and a possible nationwide ban on trans people using bathrooms.
And in this article a lot of it is her talking about the Supreme Court, which isn’t something that is going to have a significant change in makeup for probably 15 to 20 years. So here we are, beyond the horizon, beyond the point of return. A friend described it as purgatory because these cases are inevitably going to make it to the Supreme Court and inevitably be ruled to make America increasingly inhospitable for trans people. But until that happens we just wait. Wait for the inevitable, struggling to keep our rights in the mean time. Sadly I have very little hope that our struggle will accomplish anything. I feel hopeless and yet I want to protest and go through the motions to fight back even though I see no way for this to work out I don’t want to give into the hopelessness of this situation but I look at it and only see hopelessness.
Someone else I know has been researching safe places for trans people to live. They’ve said that Canada would be a location that is decent but potentially only as a stop over spot with New Zealand being a location that is more safe in the long term for trans people. Turns out a friend of a friend lives in Christchurch, New Zealand. Which is a country I only learned how to spell correctly as I was writing this article! Thinking about potentially moving there leaves me hopelessly frustrated. I love Pittsburgh, I love Pennsylvania. I don’t want to have to leave this country or this state. But I can’t in good faith not consider the possibility that I’ll be compelled to move over the next year or two and that fact terrifies me, and hurts me.
I don’t know what to do. I’m a very flexible, understanding person with few needs. Often all I need to be happy is to adjust my expectations of how certain situations might go. But recently I’ve found myself adjusting my expectations to include having my friends in the Jewish community, LGBT community and Activist community be harmed and even killed. Because if I tell myself it could happen, at least I won’t be surprised if/when it does.
This is a piece that I wrote on April 13th. I put pictures to it and put some of the text on pictures as well as adding some text but it is a piece that lives in a certain time and place, I can’t relate to all of it, nor do I want to. It’s a sample of where I was two weeks before I tried to off myself.
This is a picture of my room when I was living in Brookline, I lived in an unfinished attic.
Thank you, that was in the womb of my mine for 2 years before I awoke to see it on my wall. I lived with it for 3 years and then I tried to cover it up but it’s still there. I have a photograph of me trying to close it up. I have proof. You can’t see it anymore but the hurt person who lives in that room feels it every night and it watches over the horrors they see helpless to do anything.
I think if I were born elsewhere, another time or another place I would be called magic. Instead I feel like I don’t belong here like a splash of red in a black and white movie. A friend who sees me for who I am calls me witchy – they understand who I am. For there is a reason for all the things if you let there be and a way the world will take you where it wants if you just let go.
These are my middle child’s shoes tied together, something she requested while we were at the gym.
The nickle plating on the outside edges is covered up with grease and gunk so you can only see splotches of it and there is a dark brown red covering all the silver that shows. The inside is black with a tint of red. There are chunks of food in there and I know the pan is hot when it begins to smoke. The inside of the pan has a figure 8 shaped wet spot in the middle where the seasoning on it has been heated to a liquid. I turn of the burner and hover my wrist about 2 cms above the edge of the pan as I try to line it up so it is a horizontal line straight across. My hand is flexed upwards away from the pan with my fingers drawn in with the second knuckles showing.
I press it down and it is hot, I press it down harder to get a larger area a longer line. It begins to really hurt for a split second, I hold it on the pan for a short while before a jerk my hand off of it. All that I feel is pain. Searing pain for that split second and then a short time afterwards I feel the pain of the burn strong and it focuses all of my energy and all of my thoughts on my wrist.
This is the place I wanted to cut, I wanted to bleed but no on can see that, that cannot happen. So I do my best to make there be few burns and make it be hard to see. But in the end I have one on each hand, the one on my left is a 2 inch long line.
My thoughts are about being an imposter, being too much, and coming into my old self. And suicidal thoughts that left as soon as I had the time to embrace them. And it was a flooding of bad feelings that I didn’t have space to feel over the past few crazy months.
Healing is never done, but that’s how it goes. I think we’d miss it if it ended and we would prolly just look for things wrong and drive ourselves crazy.
I bloodied my fist today because of my rage. I thought I was mad at the kids at first, I cursed their names as I uncontrollably punched the cold mud. It wasn’t until later I realized I was angry at you.
You hurt me every time you are near, every time I hear your voice. Your words sting, your insults constantly fly. You claim you joke, you claim I misunderstand, but I am hurt by both what you say and how you treat me, by both your words and what lies between them.
I first looked down at my bloody fist with embarrassment and shame. The same shame I have when I look upon the blood I draw from my own forearms. But as I look back upon it only two days later I see power, power and strength in my bloodyfists. I stand tall, chest out, shoulders wide with a calm look of “bring it” on my face. I am not someone to be fucked with. I am power. I am strength. I am perseverance.
I could crush you with this bloody fist, I could rip you apart with this bloody fist. I could make you cry with this bloody fist. I could make you question who you are with this bloody fist. I could make you ashamed to be who you are with this bloody fist. I could make you hurt for years with this bloody fist, the same way you have made me hurt for years.
I may have all this power, all this strength and all the reasons in the world to take a swing at you with this bloody fist, but I won’t. I won’t use this power to break you. No, instead I will stick out my bloody fist and I’ll grab your hand. I will pull you up with my bloody fist so you can stand. I’ll teach you with my bloody fist how to apologize. I’ll teach you with my bloody fist how to treat me right, how to talk to me like a person. I’ll teach you how to keep me in your life.
Or maybe I won’t. Maybe you won’t take my bloody fist, maybe you won’t listen to my words and my pleas to treat me right. Maybe you’ll just insist they really are just jokes. Maybe you’ll insisted they really are just misunderstandings.
I may have all this power, all this strength and all the reasons in the world to take a swing at you with this bloody fist, but I won’t. I won’t use this power to break you. I’ll leave you be. I think that is punishment enough. To spend years building someone up, tearing someone down, loving them despite all the hurt you cause them. To mold a human and have them grow up to despise you, to renounce you, to leave you.
I’ve been doing EDMR with my therapist for a few months. This is an amazing therapy technique that lets you bring up and shed off past traumas. My last going to therapy it I felt like I was going to throw up. My therapist said that something is coming up and we will get it to come up next time, which was 3 weeks away. Half way through that time and 5 days before election day it came up in the form of a dream:
My therapist was between offices. She was deciding to stop working in the one office and move to another one and I was there as she was gathering up her things. She was somewhat preoccupied so I began busying my mind, something I am very skilled at. There was this huge watermelon rind, only half of it was in the room but it was about 10 feet long and 4 feet tall and wide. I was cutting slices off of it with a large bread knife.
My therapist noticed what I was doing and told me to stop busying my mind to be present. Suddenly I woke up. I felt myself whimpering and a tingling sensation over my neck and then over my genitals. I rip of the covers and suddenly I know. I know something that I don’t want to have happened I don’t believe did happen, something that can’t be true.
I jump to thinking about the consequences of this, about having to go to court, about ruining this persons life, about how this could happen to someone else by this person. Then I think how can I know it is her. My memory isn’t there it’s just a feeling, only my body remembers. I want to forget that this happened, I want to go back to sleep. I can’t. I can’t even stop crying. I reluctantly write it down in my journal and it becomes a little more real.
The next day I get to work and tell my coworker and friend I had a weird dream, she asks, “do you want to talk about it?”
I respond, “I don’t think I’m ready to have had that dream.”
Then I go to the bathroom and cry uncontrollably. I curl up and sit in the corner of the bathroom and cry. That’s when the synchronicity starts happening, I begin seeing watermelons different places. Watermelons in a dream refer to sexual energy. And they keep reminding me so I don’t forget. It feels like they are taunting me, but I realize they are just reminding me, just helping me to believe.
Walking home that night from work I was overwhelmed with a feeling of vulnerability. I was terrified of being attacked. I walked as fast as I could and had my computer open as I listened to music on my computers speakers to comfort me. When I got home I found Jamie and was able to finally confide with someone. Finally admit what I thought happened, finally share my fear. My reality that I was molested by my babysitter when I was young.
It took forever for me to say the words, I stumbled and cried. I refused to believe it and worried about what I would do. I worried about what my mom would think. She knows this lady, she also (quite literally) wrote the manual on how to deal with child sex abuse in the school district (post-Sandusky). I’m worried about unanswerable questions: Did she touch anyone else? Would she touch someone else? Did she touch my brother? My friends?
She just friended me on facebook about a month earlier and I thought that was why I thought of her. But that may just be why it came up. I cannot believe that she didn’t do it. I cannot believe it didn’t happen. I had some doubts the first day. But when I went into work the second day and started uncontrollably crying once more I knew. I was touched to my inner core, damaged by what she did. She affected apart of me I could never imagine. I was suddenly viewing my childhood through a different lens. Through the lens of someone who has been sexually abused. It all started to make more sense.
I told my therapist a week later. It couldn’t be any more real a that point, and she only further confirmed my belief. She said that traumas like these the person will leave their body making for no true memory of the event. Instead in it’s place is the body’s memory. My body remembered what happened and what I felt despite my minds best attempts to protect itself.
The last bit of synchronicity showed itself when I got home. I felt validated. It all started to make sense and I felt very assured. I turned on the radio and heard the song below and these lyrics: “How your body still remembers things you told it to forget, how those furious affections follow you.”
I wrote this post about two weeks ago. Since them it has come up for me a bunch of times, but I’m starting to accept it. In fact even better I’m starting to let that go, let go of my facade and be real me.
This is the questions strangers ask themselves when they see me. Sometimes I see the struggle in their face as they stare me down. They just don’t know and they can’t be too sure. But they do know they have to pick one. Sometimes they switch once I talk, or once I get closer. Other times they are used to saying gender neutral terms and can hide their confusion by calling me “honey” or avoiding pronouns until they slip.
I stand in their presence and think little about how they gender me. I’m there for another reason, whether it be to talk to them about the home care work they do or to buy groceries. I am living in my own world and I know where I am. They understandably don’t, my voice is still deep and my beard is probably already showing. Maybe it’s my shoulders or my hands, but I can’t say I really care.
Don’t get me wrong I like being ma’am-ed it feels nice and validating. It tells me I’m getting closer to who I am. But I also know that I’ve been on hormones for 3 months and I haven’t had nearly enough voice training or electrolysis appointments.
I’m just trying to view the ma’am-ing and sir-ing differently. To view it as people struggling with being respectful. People are trying with all their might to correctly gender me, they just haven’t figured out that gender and sex are two different things. Not to mention the separation of gender identity and gender presentation. They aren’t being disrespectful, that is exactly what they are trying not to do, misgender me.
So I watch the ensuing chaos that I create. Especially as me and my trans friend/roommate who is going the opposite way, Jamie, and I go for a bike ride. A guy with thick glasses stops us by saying, “hey ladies!”
We turn around.
He then corrects himself by saying, “I mean lady and man.”
Jamie responds, “don’t worry about it,” in a voice that is getting deeper by the second.
He corrects himself again, “No wait I was right the first time.”
We try our best to hold off laughter until we are far enough away.
A lot of trans people seem to want others to acknowledge their identity (possibly even before they acknowledge it themselves – I know because I felt this way just recently). But what is more important is to be sure of yourself and sure of who you are. The same way that cis-people will say, “I’m not offended when someone misgenders me.” While that isn’t the same, it isn’t a blow to them because this isn’t offensive and it doesn’t challenge their identity because they know who they are.
I had to begin to empower myself, there is nothing wrong with being trans there is nothing wrong with being recognized as being trans, because being trans is beautiful.
–Laverne Cox on being misgendered
I know who I am in a world that has no idea what to call me, a world that just found out I exist. That’s fine with me, as I said, I know who I am – that is way more important to me than what anyone calls me.
About 2 weeks ago I started what I thought was a temporary job that would last a few weeks at most and give me some extra money before I figured out what I wanted to do. 12 days later I’ve worked 10 days in a row and am about to have an interview for a upcoming campaign they are working on. The labor movement is finally calling me back and I can no longer resist it.
The story starts about 4 years ago. I had just finished college and had graduated with a degree in anthro… United Students Against Sweatshops. I spent my 4 years organized around sweatshop issues and considered that my real degree, since I put more time into organizing than I did my studies. I saw 3 of my friends find jobs in the labor movement and struggle with long hours and being displaced from their partners. Two of the people were in long term relationships when starting their jobs, both of which had ended before I graduated.
I was in a relationship at the time and I was burnt out. Both of these decisions led me to want to do something close to home. Eventually I settled on community organizing before fully burning out and going back to my summer job of working on bikes. Fast forward 3.5 years and I am doing EMDR treatments with my therapist and finally feel the past shedding off of me. I finally feel like me, and suddenly the opportunity I’ve been looking for pops up.
My friend Red Beard (who hasn’t had a beard for years) tells me about a temporary job door knocking for the union he works for. They have to beat out the right wingers and organize home care workers before they send out their nasty propaganda. I happily agree, especially since it’s temporary and my friend Curls, the loud mouthed artist, is doing it too.
I ended up working 10 days in a row, signing up home care workers for the union election that’s coming up. At first I want to quit but decide to see it through. I went from working 10 hours a week to over 10 hours a day and am having a hard time living. But then I find my place and realize how good at this job I am. Myself and Curls rock as this and are asked to submit our resumes.
I feel them pulling me in. Three of my friends currently work for this union and I feel myself being pulled in. But then I realize it’s not by them I’m pulling myself in. I’ve been wanting to do this for years but have told myself why I can’t do it. Now that I’m doing it I am loving every moment of it but reminding myself of the hours and fear of being sent away from home for months to live in a hotel. Every other weekend off isn’t enough, I think. But then again working a job I enjoy, where I am allowed to be autonomous and one that I’m good at is hard to resist.
My interview is this afternoon I can’t wait to see how it turns out. I won’t say no to a job offer, I would love this opportunity. I’m afraid of what my happen after I say yes, but I remind myself that this isn’t the rest of my life it’s just right now and it’s just what I was looking for.
CASBALOG 