Posted in anxiety, community, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, faith, family, friends, gratitude, grief, homelessness, life, storage, urgent

3/28: 3 hours left… #crowdfunding #emergency

Please share wherever you can.

3 hours left

1300 needed

I’ve done what I can. I’m tired. I just need help one last time. The items in storage mean the world to me.

~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, 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, auction, bullying, community, crowdfunding, depression, domestic abuse, emergency, empath life, faith, family, friends, gratitude, grief, history, life, peace, poetry, storage, urgent

3/21: Within #poetry

(I still desperately need the help to get storage caught up. Any help, sharing and/or donations, is greatly appreciated.)

Look in the mirror.
Who do you see?
The scared girl who feared the world?

The mirror shows what is the truth.
It cannot lie.
Showing only what it sees.

What do you fear?
The past is you.
You choose to live in it.

Or beyond it.
Embrace what the mirror shows you.
You will only embrace yourself.

The past cannot hurt you.
Settle your soul with
The demons behind you.

Never forget.
Forgiveness is a distant choice.
Carry the lessons.

Leave the rest to the mirror.
It knows how to wrestle
The demons within.

~A

Posted in activism, anxiety, auction, bigotry, bugaboos, bullying, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, family, friends, grief, history, life, observations, poetry, politics, society, storage, urgent

2/15: Dreams

(I’m back. Still need help with storage. But here’s a poem for you… fresh out of the deep dark recesses of my psyche.)

Freedom lost.
We are fired up.
Broken down.
Looking within.
And
Going without.

Where we were
Defines
Where we are.
But we define
Where we will go.

Shattered dreams
Empty shells.
Who we are
Is defined by
Who we have been.

Lost in the mirage
Of once being great.
Stumbling over each other
As we gasp for air.

Welcome all is
Only a dream.
A faint memory.

Fight to move forward.
At war with the machine.

Who are we now
To have valid dreams.

~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 anxiety, artsy stuff, chronic pain, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, faith, grief, health, individuality, life, poetry, writing

12/3/18: Twisted (poetry)

(I figured it’s been a while… gonna try to keep this up to the end of the year.)

Bent and torn.
Pieces flaking off.
Laid bare
From anger.

Cocooned in blankets.
Picking up pieces.
I myself
In sadness.

Twisted and broken.
Heart lost.
The rubble buries
My soul.

Waiting for Spring.
New growth hopeful.
World won’t wait for me
To heal.

Twisted in pieces.
Anger melts away.
Pieces bind and will heal me
Some day.

~A

Posted in anxiety, C-PTSD, chronic pain, community, creativity, depression, disability, faith, family, friends, grief, health, homelessness, job hunting, life, poverty line, PTSD, society, storage, transitions, urgent, writing

10/27: Creativity and Storage

It’s now been a week in the new place. I also still don’t have access to storage so I can get my mattress and stuff out. I was depending on one person who said they’d help, but hasn’t so far.

Tasks are slowly picking up. I had one yesterday and have another one tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, those two will only get me closer to $0 in my checking account as I’m about $260 in the red. If I’d had work throughout the month, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

So, I’m asking. It’s only one month’s rent plus late fees ($305 plus about 40 or so), and using PayPal will keep it from getting sucked into the checking account (I did finally deactivate the GFM).

It wouldn’t bother me so much if it weren’t for my back. I’m sleeping on the floor with very little cushion. I’m now getting numbness along my right side (the side I keep re-injuring), which isn’t good.

The sooner I can get into storage and get things out, the sooner I can move the rest of it into a smaller unit again. Which means less storage rent. My goal will be to go from the 8×20 unit down to a 9×10. It’s about half the price.


Now that that’s all out of the way…

I finally heard from the one place I might be doing that internship/job (the place doesn’t pay me, SE Works/state does). I like the place. They’re an arts organization that focuses on making arts education available to all, among other things. I’m hopeful.

Right now, my focus in on getting my life back on track, but I also can’t forget what drives and heals me: creativity. With that, I am happy to say that I will be doing NaNoWriMo for the 13th year running. I’ve done and won all previous 12 years. Last year, I was a mess, though. I admit that. I ended up piecing together my 50K words from various half-finished stories. This year, I have two small ideas that are going to be expanded into one larger tale. I haven’t decided if it’s going to be fully off-world SciFi or Post-Apocalyptic Earth… not yet. It doesn’t wholly change the story much. In the snippet I wrote earlier this year, I do reference a poison gas that was used in WWI (Mustard Gas), but it could still be referenced similarly in an off-world story. Just maybe the planet they’re on is one humans colonized and shit went sideways.

Who knows… I’ll let the characters determine that part. I know that Post-Apoc stories are a HUGE thing right now. It would be very easy to make this PA.

My writing has stalled in some aspects the last two years or so. Four years ago, my dad died, and he was my biggest fan and cheerleader. A month ago, I lost another cheerleader, my friend Connie, to cancer. She was always in awe of how I came up with the adventures and random shit my characters ended up doing. So this year is for Connie. I’ll make sure they get into a decent amount of mayhem.

Now that I’m coming out of homelessness, I can stop being on constant alert… hyper-vigilant mode. That’s from a combination of homelessness and PTSD. It’ll take some time to fully come out of it.

I think writing this tale in November will help pull me back into life again. Where I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.

~A

Posted in anxiety, birthdays, community, depression, disability, faith, friends, grief, homeless, homelessness, housing, job hunting, life, poverty line, transitions

10/14: Changes Afoot!

I’ve been quiet (again) for a bit because I’ve been running around trying to get a handle on what feels like a million things happening at once. A close friend of mine passed away right before my birthday, so that sent me into a bit of a tailspin. She was one of my first writing friends here in Portland when I moved here.

Then paperwork got moving finally for a WEX job (I think that’s what it’s called). The agency pays for up to 240 hours at $12/hour for me to get work experience in (technically) what I’m going to be retraining for in school. The problem is that since it’s a temporary job, many places don’t want someone coming in for a temp assignment in accounting/bookkeeping. You’d have access to HR records and other stuff. Not things they want some random person walking around with knowledge of. So, we’re working on finding a suitable place.

The other thing is getting into an apartment. I’ve been here at the shelter almost 7 months. WAY too long, for both their liking and my own sanity.

But…

I got approved for a studio I’ve been looking at for a while now. Back in my old neighborhood, close to storage and everything else. Human Solutions will be helping with the first few months as I get off the ground. Up to 6 months.

I’ll likely be moving out of the shelter sometime this week, if all goes well with timing of paperwork and checks and whatnot.

So, after a year and a half of being unhoused (another term now being used for homeless), I will have a place of my own again. It’ll be nice to have my own small kitchen and a bathroom I don’t have to share. No more people stealing my food from the fridge… and back on my old full size mattress. I’ve been sleeping on a twin size bed or smaller this whole time.

On the bad side, I didn’t get approved for disability, which sucks. So, no dog for now, no getting a bunch of IKEA furniture to maximize the small studio apartment… and other things. I’m working on a plan, though.

I should at least get the bed frame. A white MALM bed frame with the drawers underneath. Need to maximize storage potential.

Also, there are a few things at the top of my Amazon wishlist. Very important stuff for a new place. No tub, just a shower stall, and I don’t have the things I need for that. If someone were so inclined. Or IKEA gift cards… It was my birthday at the beginning of the month. Also… “apartment warming?”

More to come in the next stage of my adventures.

~A