Posted in anxiety, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dreams, gratitude, health, insomnia, job hunting, life, Personal, sleep, society

4/1: No April Fool Here

As I’ve said in the past, I have been sleeping on the floor since I moved in back in October. The reason I haven’t bought a new mattress was because I had one in storage and wanted to get it out.

Well, now that the chance of saving everything is gone, I need a new mattress. I’ve been checking all the “bed-in-a-box” options alongside IKEA and thought I couldn’t find something more affordable than them.

I was wrong. The Zinus mattress on my Amazon wishlist is a touch over $200. I have a second option as well (and they’re at the top of the list, so no one has to go hunting for them). So, I ask for help. My credit is fucked from a bankruptcy in 2013 (medical bills) and lack of steady employment. I know it’s a big ask, but this is sorely needed. If it’s ordered via my list, it comes straight to me. If folks donate so I can buy it, PP is ideal as I have a debit card from them linked to my Amazon account.

Some of you may wonder why I’m asking for help. I now have to start over, which I fucking hate more than anything. I’ve lost nearly everything that means something to me. Having a mattress that’s good for my back will help to some degree. If I can sleep better, I can do better during my waking hours.

I don’t want any frames right now either. Yes, that means it’ll be on the floor. But if you look at the IKEA registry (also now in the sidebar), you’ll see a MALM storage bed frame (it lifts up from the foot of the bed). It isn’t cheap, but it’s one of the things I want to maximize my space here. I’m living in less than 300 sq ft. So, it’s tight quarters.

Mattress first. Then work my way up through the stuff. Stuff on Amazon and IKEA, or donations or gift cards to either… Any of it works.

~A

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Posted in anxiety, auction, chronic pain, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, domestic abuse, dreams, emergency, faith, family, friends, gratitude, grief, history, homelessness, housing, insomnia, life, poetry, society, storage, urgent

3/25: Disjointed #poetry

[Definitely running out of time for storage. I need to save it this one last time. Then I can move things around and get a smaller unit. 1400. Help?share?]

……..

Standing
People pass me, sometimes
Bumping into me.
Am I here? Do I exist?
The sidewalk is not overly
Crowded.
I must be invisible.

Walking
Careful to not be followed.
Do I feel safe?
Where is my stun gun?
Just leave me be.
Fake window shopping.
Make the guy be ahead of me.
I must keep my eyes on
Him.

Running
Fear. Am I late?
Why do I run?
My legs give out.
My lungs give up.
What is it that I fear?

Dreaming
I must fight the
Darkness of my past.
I long to be free of fear and
Pain.
I have whiplash from always looking
Over my shoulder.
Make the pain stop.
Leave me be.

~A

Posted in activism, bigotry, bugaboos, chronic pain, community, conformity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, health, life, medical, observations, Personal, politics, society, storage, student life, urgent

3/25: Being Disabled

[Panicking because storage auction is on Thursday and I desperately need the full 1400 to cover it and save it from auction. Please share and spread the word.]

Today, when I arrived at Central City Concern’s EAC (Employment Access Center), my case manager asked for my opinion on something. See, they’ve adapted some access points of the center to accommodate disabled folks like me, but it’s an older building and they haven’t gotten everything. They do have a small single wheelchair elevator to go down to the basement workspace, and the front door has an automated button system, but to access the computer area off the lobby, there are two steps up. And then three steps up to get to another area. I have a walker (while I love my cane, when it comes to back injuries, walkers are better because you aren’t contorting your body to use it).

So he asked me what I would suggest. I told him that small ramps could replace the steps and that they might have to be a little longer than the steps take, but it would be more ADA compliant. He had me write this up on a suggestion form and he turned it in.

Why have I mentioned this? Because hearing the opinions and voices of those who aren’t part of the norm of society is something that doesn’t happen often. Since I first hurt my back at 17, I’ve seen and experienced a disconnect from society. We are either invisible, dismissed, second class citizens… you name it.

And it sucks.

For years, even up until about 6 or 7 years ago, I wouldn’t consider myself disabled. I had my back injury and countless other injuries and health issues, but I rarely classified myself as disabled. In part because of how I was treated at 18 at the first community college I attended. They were horrendous to disabled students. Being kicked out of music classes, dismissed for needing assistance, you name it. Their DSRC was a joke. A tiny office barely big enough to hold two desks. No testing areas, nothing. The frustration was palpable.

I now live in Portland, which has a sizable disable population. I now own the label. With my back getting reinjured (twice) and more and more injuries and such added to the list (along with mental health fuckery), I have come to accept the label as part of who and what I am. But just because I’m in a city with a large disabled population, doesn’t mean everything is wonderfully accessible.

There are many apartment buildings and houses I could never live in. Too many stairs and no accessibility. Granted, if I ever had the money to buy a house, I’d hopefully be able to remodel it for accessibility. I can climb occasional stairs as needed, but I couldn’t live somewhere with lots of them.

My case manager asked me today because I had my walker. Because I have to lift it up to get past those two or three steps. If it isn’t loaded down, which it usually isn’t, then that’s okay. Anything more than what I had today would be too much weight.

One other area, and I may expand on this another time, is how the equipment we use is not treated properly. Service Dogs are the main focus with this issue. SD’s are there to help their handlers function within society’s parameters. My PTSD is easily triggered by a person, usually male, sitting or standing too close to me. Having a trained dog with me would help assure that space around me would be maintained for my mental healthiness. Same for other working dogs. They are working, helping their handlers gain their independence from other people. Freedom to do things others find normal, easy tasks without the need for a person to always be there to help. That’s all anyone asks.

But there are far too many people claiming their untrained pet dogs are SD’s, when they are not. There are a number of reasons these are a bad idea. They can show aggression toward other dogs, even Service Dogs, attacking them or humans. This can potentially ruin an SD and this then restricts the freedom once again of the handler. Again, I may likely expand on this in it’s own post.

Our society has long dismissed those who are disabled (among other groups). We typically aren’t seen as equals who can contribute just as much to society as able-bodied/minded people can. Sure there have been some outliers such as Stephen Hawking, but he was known in his field before he was diagnosed with ALS. But for many of us, we are seen more as a burden on society.

All we want is to be treated as equals and be given the chance to contribute to society like everyone else.

~A

Posted in activism, anxiety, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, friends, grief, life, suicidal ideation, urgent

3/24: The Void

Pull back from the edge.
Is anyone listening?
Another star burns out.
Too brilliant for common life.

Exist, to what end?
Scream at the void.
As others walk by.
No one sees them as valuable.

Can anyone hear?
Anything other than their own egos?
The void replies with silence.
Choose to move on.

Will anyone bother?
Does anyone care?
The star is now removed from existence.
The void is content.

~A
(If you are considering suicide, please, please, please reach out for help. A friend of mine took his own life this weekend. He fell between the cracks of society and was never properly cared for by modern medicine. Death is permanent.)

[Yes, still need help with storage. Anything helps.)

Posted in anxiety, auction, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, domestic abuse, dreams, emergency, empath life, faith, friends, gratitude, grief, history, homelessness, life, nanowrimo, peace, PTSD, sexual assault, society, storage, transitions, urgent

3/23: Healing #PTSD #sexualassault #trigger and yes #crowdfunding, dammit

Yes, still need help. Auction is Thursday the 28th. I cannot give them partial payment. They won’t accept it this time. So I need to come up with 1400 for storage. I also may still need to pay my apartment management a chunk just under 500 as well. I’ll have to email the people who have been helping. There was some miscommunication there.


Healing: I’ve never hidden the fact that I have PTSD from sexual assault. I’ve also never hidden the fact that the asshole who raped me repeatedly has been cyberstalking me on and off for most of these years since. But I don’t think I’ve delved into the healing process and how I have viewed it. I use the Three Little Pigs as my analogy.

First Piggie: For several years, I was like that first pig, building my straw house, thinking I was this strong person. Only for him to come along, whether in the real world, online, or in nightmares, and blow the straw house down. I’d come out of my hiding and rebuild. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Second Piggie: Eventually, I morphed into the second piggie. I reinforced my stick house with straw, believing I was stronger than before. He’d once again come and blow the house down again… and again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Third Piggie: In 2013, after writing a particular character for NaNoWriMo that November, I transformed once again into the third pig. I had a brick house with reinforced walls and shatterproof windows and doors. My motto: Y’all can huff, and y’all can puff, but you AIN’T blowing this house down.

He stayed fairly quiet by then, but he has never been one to give up tormenting women. So I steeled myself against whatever he might do once he got bored again with his current victim.

My nightmares went from being victimized completely by him, feeling helpless, to being victimized but finding the strength to break away, and finally, to anger and a willingness to fight face to face if it came to that. And I might get injured even then, but still came out victorious. I hope you can also see the pattern there.

Right around the first of the year, I started using my salt bowl again and saying my own prayer. Asking God, Mother Nature, and those who came before (ancestors) to bring guidance as I and those around me move forward with our lives. To begin healing our pasts and finding wisdom and peace within and without. While I didn’t do this every night, I did do it several nights in a row over the last two and a half months.

It started to work. I’m an odd duck as I’m both believer and skeptic rolled into one. I put my faith out there and hope that maybe I’m heard, but I don’t expect anything major to happen.

But it is. I noticed recently that I haven’t had those nightmares of any kind, even the third one, in a few weeks now, maybe a month. I’d been so angry at myself, at the world, at people in general, and very definitely at him, that it finally emptied the reserves of anger. I had no more. Do I still get angry? Yes. Trust me, you would not want to read my mind when I’m on transit. But my mind isn’t engaged in anger toward him, in anger toward others like him. The nightmares have stopped. Yes, they could pick back up again. And he could still make contact, harassing me again. My guard isn’t down. But my mind isn’t stewing in fear and anger at him.

So, I’m no longer any of the piggies. Maybe a phoenix rising from the ashes of the first two houses. Keeping watch over the third until no longer needed. I don’t know, honestly. But I know something has shifted. I cannot forgive him for what he did. Nor can I forgive the others who made attempts at assault before him.

I know where I’ve been. I’m unsure of where I am now. And not one damn clue where I’m going. But I’m ready to truly heal and move on.

~A

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, auction, cats, chronic pain, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dreams, emergency, faith, family, friends, gratitude, health, homelessness, life, medical, Personal, poverty line, semicolon, society, storage, tattoo

3/19: Catching Up and Needing Help #crowdfunding

I know, it’s getting old. But I need to come up with the whole 1400-ish needed for storage. No partial payments this time. Also, the whole sleeping on the floor thing is getting rather old. I do have a GFM, but PayPal is MUCH easier for me (and you don’t NEED a PP account to donate) to access. Auction is on the 28th. I’m running out of time.

I’ve been rather quiet of late. My apologies. It’s been a strange few weeks. I got hurt while assembling something a week and a half ago, and then got food poisoning (most likely) over this past weekend, ending up in the ER Sunday evening. I didn’t get home until 4:15am. I’m still recovering, but getting better. What I am making so far is all going to my phone (how I get tasks) and other small bills. Some will -admittedly- be going to a tattoo next week. I booked it a couple months in advance and really did expect things to be vastly improved by now, but I also don’t want to pass up the chance for a VERY affordable tattoo (My semicolon tat. I swore that I’d get it once I was no longer homeless).

Still looking for work. Still doing what I can. I have a couple of ideas for paintings, but need better quality paint for one and other supplies for the other technique.

Portia now has her own page on Facebook: Princess Portia of Portlandia is the place to go.

In other frustrating news, the agency helping with my rent didn’t communicate with me about this month, so they only sent a partial amount, assuming I’d pay the rest. Well, I didn’t know this until I got a notice about it from management. *sigh* … so if there’s a little extra, it would be appreciated.

I’m gonna get back on track here. I was dong better health-wise until my knee was hit by a side panel of a dresser. It’s also doing better now. My right side takes a massive beating on a regular basis (I’m a leftie, so my right side is a bit weaker).

If folks will see me through one more round of help with storage… there’s hope for me yet.

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, C-PTSD, community, creativity, crowdfunding, disability, emergency, faith, family, friends, gratitude, homeless, homelessness, housing, job hunting, life, Personal, PTSD, semicolon, sexual assault, society, storage, urgent

2/27/19: Panic and Cry for Help #crowdfunding

TW/CW: Mention of rape and sexual assault.

Share if you’re willing. Thank you.

I’m sure folks are pretty sick of me asking for help. And, in all absolute honesty, I’m sick of asking. I’m a bumbling work in progress. I try to not compare myself to others, but that still happens. Especially when I think of my age. How can I be so fucked up that I can’t get my shit together and do all the adulting things I should be able to do at my age?

And then I think of my trauma. It’s no excuse, but it is a valid reason. No matter our age when traumatic shit happens, if we’re still in some stage of emotional development, we have the strong potential to be stunted in said emotional growth. It sucks. Sucks hard.

I dealt with emotional abuse growing up. And then the repeated rape and sexual assaults at 17, 19 and then 21/22. I use both terms since some were actual penetrative rape and others were not. I’ve been to the depths of hell in my life. And I’m still here. How, I don’t really know. How I got through all this crap is a mystery to me.

Being homeless hasn’t helped either. And now, I’m in this limbo. I’m housed, but I feel like I’m camping in my own apartment. Everything I own that helps define my identity is still locked away where I can’t get to it. Auction is next month (I thought it was this month, but no).

Because I no longer have my internship, I am behind on several bills. While I’m still doing Taskrabbit, I’ve had all of three tasks this month, and the money from them has kept my only cell phone working so I can continue getting hired for tasks, despite my numbers dropping (something that needs improvement).

I pay water/sewer/garbage to the apartment management company, separately from the rent, and I’m behind on it. $47 for December and now another $42 for January. Electric is also behind. If I can toss them $50 or so, that would appease them for now. I also have my PO Box. I’d prefer to keep it going, but if not, I’ll pick up my mail tomorrow and turn in the key. It was vital while I was homeless and I’d still prefer to have it for a few reasons, but I know that’s simply a preference.

And then storage. I owe roughly 1000-1100. On Friday, another 300-ish will be added on.

I am applying for jobs and continuing my classes. I need access to my things in storage so that I can sleep better, create more (which will feed my soul and be therapeutic), and ground myself in the things that matter to me in my life.

The last few years have been a vicious cycle. I’d like to stop running in circles and break that cycle. But I need help doing that.

Posted in anxiety, auction, chronic pain, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, faith, family, friends, insomnia, job hunting, life, Personal, poverty line, society, urgent, writing

2/20: LAAAAGGGG!!! & #crowdfunding

SSSHHHHAAAAAARRRE MMEEEEEEE!!! PLEASE? (I’m feeling a bit weird today)

I’m BAAAAAaaaaack!! After a week and a half without regular wi-fi and only my phone’s hotspot, which I almost killed a few days ago, I’m back online with normal wi-fi. This means I can stop screaming at my computer and phone and make my neighbors all worried I’m killing* something in here.

*- No electronics were harmed. Really.

So, since I’ve been out of a regular paying job, my income has dwindled to a rather dangerous point. My tasking is barely anything (2 tasks this month so far). Here’s the need and goal:

  1. Storage. I owe about 1000 or so. I need to get it -completely- paid up before the end of the month. Once it’s fully paid up, then I can move stuff out and the rest down to a smaller unit like I’ve been planning. I have zero access until it’s paid in full.
  2. Electric. While they aren’t going to shut me off during the winter, it would be nice to throw them $50 or so of what I currently owe.
  3. Cell phone bill. I set up a split payment arrangement to keep it turned on, with $60 this week and the remainder next week. I need to change the payments, though.
  4. Water/Garbage/Sewer. $47. It’s all lumped together and then they split it evenly between residents. By the end of February.
  5. Cat food (canned) as well. My cat goes through canned and dry. While this isn’t super-dooper urgent, the wet food has helped her coat tremendously. She gets Natural Balance Duck and Green Pea LiD. Same for her kibble, but she has enough of that for the moment.
  6. PO Box. $41 or something around that number.
    By the end of February.

I basically need a big ol’ miracle or something. The phone is my only one now and it’s the only way I can get tasks. And with applying for jobs, I need a phone that’s active to get calls and such.


In other non-begging news, my sleep is possibly improving a smidge. Health is improving a bit. School is as good as it can be for a Right Brain person trying to manage Left Brain schoolwork. I find that my testing ability still stinks and I do slightly better with the actual accounting work than with the vocabulary that comprises the midterm, which I tanked.

I had a phone interview last week, but did not make it to the next round of interviews with that company. I keep applying for stuff, but it gets frustrating when you have skills and they don’t seem to see those skills on paper.

Yesterday, I wrote up as much as I could remember of a dream that was VERY fictional and I knew it would be a good story. I still need to fill in the gaps, but this piece is something I want to eventually submit somewhere.

I refuse to let the shit in my life win and beat me back down. I just have a lot to work on.

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, C-PTSD, chronic pain, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dreams, emergency, faith, family, friends, grief, health, insomnia, job hunting, life, poetry, PTSD, society, storage, transitions, urgent

2/7: Melancholy (#crowdfunding & #poetry)

So, now February storage rent has been tacked on. $1014 owed. And my internet at home is off (86 needed). Phone will come due soon as well. The phone that is, once again, access to my only livelihood.

******************

Sabotage.
On edge.
Permanently damaged goods.
Just too much pain.

Breathe.
Why now?
Make it stop.
Please help me survive.

Tired.
Always on.
Brain wired wrong.
I need a break.

Broken.
No matter.
Need to heal.
Do I fit anywhere?

********
I’m all melancholy right now. Frustration with my own health and job hunt. Trying to get through school as well. Today I finally got a formal diagnosis of PTSD and GAD. These explain a lot. I feel like things aren’t coming together like I, and those around me, had thought they would by now. Like I’m falling apart all over again. This is partly why I’ve been so quiet lately. Poetry just isn’t forming so much of late.

Bear with me as I fight to reclaim the ground I lost climbing out of my own personal abyss.

~A

Posted in community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, faith, family, friends, gratitude, homelessness, housing, life, Personal, storage, urgent

1/31: 3 hours #countdown #crowdfunding

Still seeking help by end of day. 700-ish needed by 6pm.

I hate asking. I kick myself for not having my shit together more. I don’t post half the stuff that runs through my head when I’m dealing with this kind of thing.

I feel, and have for a long time, that I’m missing some key piece of life that makes things work and come together. That something that others seem to have (or maybe some are faking that aspect). I’m a jumbled mess trying to survive in this world.

So, this is another short post. If folks can spread the word and help in some way. To anyone who is newer to my blog, I was homeless for a year and a half until 3 months ago. I crammed most of my stuff into a large storage unit and have struggled to keep it up. Now that I’m in an apartment, I can get some of the bigger things out, like furniture and such. And then move the rest into a smaller unit. With help, I got it removed from auction at the start of the month, but we only paid a little over half. Now I need to pay the rest and I don’t have anything to pay with. I can’t get credit… long story. I just want to get it sorted so I can feel better about moving forward. Sleeping on the floor is taking a toll on my back.

~A