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

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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 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

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, asexuality, auction, C-PTSD, community, conformity, convention, cosplay, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, domestic abuse, dreams, emergency, faith, family, friends, gender, history, homelessness, housing, individuality, life, medical, Personal, sexual assault, silliness, society, storage, urgent, writing

1/2/19: A Bit Different #crowdfunding

Last one for the night for crowdfunding. I’m exhausted from the emotional and physical havoc today was. Trying to not go into a full-on pity-party… so I’m going to take a cue from the image I chose and riff on that for the last of the night. Still sitting at $235 of $1467. Can anyone who sees this be part of a minor miracle and add to that low number?


I’ve always been kind of an “odd duck” well, rabbit. I’m still not entirely sure if identifying as Rabbit from Winnie-the-Pooh is a good thing or a bad one. But I’ve had several friends agree that I’m Rabbit. But I’ve always been different. Not so much in a neuro-atypical way, just different.

I was the kid who plucked dog and cat hairs from the family pets and looked at them under the 3x microscope. The one who “hunted the dragon” which was actually my dad working on the yard. The kid who was caught on film in rainbow striped tights and a slip (top, not skirt) and ballet shoes, using my dad’s drafting table after hours to doodle.

The teen who wore black leather lace up boots and a beret or real fedora -black with a grey band- and pink and blue shiny eye shadow. Drawing and dancing and singing and pretending I was famous. All while contemplating suicide because of emotional abuse.

I tried, in my 20’s, to go with the pack, to dress like others and fit in. But I realized as I inched closer to 30 that that wasn’t me. It wasn’t WHO or WHAT I was. Still not me now. I rejected the “American Dream” concept of a house in the ‘burbs with the white picket fence and all the other trappings.

My life has been filled with good and bad. The bad has had a tendency to overwhelm me and my life. From a sexually abusive relationship to almost dying at 35 from Cellulitis. To being homeless for most of the past two years. It hasn’t been easy, not by any means.

For labels: I’m an Androgynous Aromantic Asexual Furry Cosplayer who also happens to write SF/F… and, well, there probably are a few other things. I paint, I sew, I design floorplans of houses and costumes. I can draft my own patterns to some degree. I refer to myself as a Geek-of-all-Trades.

And just about everything that one with all those labels and hobbies (along with more I didn’t list) would have to help define who they are is locked away in the storage unit up for auction tomorrow at noon PST. My identity, my first fursuit, my costumes, my sewing machine, my music.

My everything.

I’m not perfect or beautiful or famous like I had dreamed of as a kid. I’m just this one person who is trying to pick my life back up after being on temporary hold for almost two years. I’m a person who stumbles and falls on my own feet while walking along the path of life. I think a lot of us do that. I just choose not to hide the bruises from my falls.

My life is in that storage unit. I can’t lose it. Not now when I’m finally back in my own place again.

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, community, cosplay, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, friends, homelessness, housing, life, poetry, society, storage, urgent, writing

1/2/19: Waiting (#poetry and #crowdfunding)

Still #crowdfunding. I’m just gonna keep going. Hoping that by Saturday, I’ll be able to go and get my mattress and some things out of there after it’s saved. It’s at Central Self Storage here in Portland. All I want is this chance to get some normalcy back. I have my costumes and everything in there.

WAITING

Broken lines of light come to me over the water below
The bridge under my feet is cold and slick from the winter rain.
The moon betrays me to the night sky.
I stand over the water.
Watching.
Hoping.

In my dream I felt this night.
I saw the moon over me, the rigid steel of the bridge around me.
The ripplies of water disturb the lights of the city beyond.
I saw this night.
I felt it.
Yet, he is nowhere.

In this dream, he stands in this place.
On this bridge.
Silence only broken by the water below, hitting the supports.
He stands here.
Why, I do not know.
So, I wait.

My impatience overtakes my desire.
The bells in the distance tell me midnight is here.
Yet I am still alone.
Here.
On the bridge.
Waiting.

Pacing, hoping he will show.
I fumble to make sure it is safe in my pocket.
Staring into the deep black water.
Below.
And I wait.
He never comes.

~APA 2007 (I have no clue where this came from, but it’s one of mine. *shrugs*)

Posted in anxiety, auction, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, faith, family, friends, homelessness, housing, life, storage, transitions, urgent

1/2/19: What would you do? Less than 30 hours #crowdfunding

What would you do? If you had been homeless with everything you owned (well, about 98% of it, including all your furniture and things you hold dear) locked away where you can’t get to it? About to be auctioned off. If you couldn’t get credit because of a medical bankruptcy? If you have a plan to get what you need immediately out and then move the rest into a smaller, more affordable unit?

That’s where I am now. I don’t have parents to turn to. My siblings are both stretched thin themselves when it comes to finances. I’ve had meager, unsteady income and have barely been able to keep myself afloat, even while homeless. But now… now I have a small apartment. I finally have a place of my own where the furniture and some other things in storage can go. But they’re about to get auctioned off.

I’m tired. Tired of fighting and trying to beat this financial monster that keeps my belongings hostage. I just need one more chance. So, please share and keep this going. Share and encourage others to share.

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, C-PTSD, community, crowdfunding, dreams, emergency, faith, friends, homelessness, housing, life, observations, Personal, poverty line, society, storage, transitions, urgent

1/2/19: Anxiety #crowdfunding

I’m not sure how else to get anyone’s attention. What can I do? Coming out of homelessness sucks when you know you have the tools to start rebuilding your life, but can’t access them for a lack of funds.

Trust me, I’d MUCH rather be blogging about normal topics. More poetry and stuff. But life can hand -no, not hand- HURL challenges at some people like it’s an every day thing. At least this is how it feels to me.

I do my best not to compare myself to others, but I do look around me at others in society. It does feel like some people got the Manual for Adulthood at an early age, and the rest of us are still trying to figure it all out.

I could totally blame the world, but some of it is on me. I made some choices that have scarred me for life. Abusive relationships and all. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make things better, but there is no magic wand. No easy fix. I know that. Probably better than most.

I just ask and hope that enough people or the right people… just people hear my request and can answer with the help I need. I need one more chance. I’m almost there.

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, faith, family, friends, housing, life, storage, urgent

12/18: Halp? The Elephant in the Room is Winning (#crowdfunding)

So, this post will be short and sweet. I need help. Again. In a perfect world, I’d have steady income and enough of it that I could keep storage caught up all this time. Now I’m about at $1200 needed. I expect nothing, but hope for the help once again. I’ll go over why I’m panicking about everything over on FB. Eventually. I need my furniture and stuff, and then sort my shit… first thing’s first.

When I was evicted, I was able to stuff as much as possible into storage, but there was still a fair bit left over. Friends stashed as much as we could get out before the final deadline. I still had to leave a few things behind, but I’ve moved past that. I hate leaving things behind/unfinished/etc.

Most of that stuff has returned to the new roost. Much to the chagrin of my new landlords (and me… I’d rather have my shit organized and on furniture). But I don’t have access to storage, even though it’s two blocks away. October sucked for income, so I fell behind yet again. It’s now December and my storage unit will go to auction yet again early January. I need my stuff. I need my furniture and I need to put the stuff here in the unit. Once I can get the basics out of storage, I can organize my shit into a smaller unit. But I need access.

~A

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, auction, bugaboos, Christmas, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, family, friends, housing, job hunting, life, Personal, poverty line, storage, urgent

“Oh, being treated like an adult?” #crowdfunding

More updates and shit. So, I have the date of the auction for storage. In the image below. Ignore the fact that it says 2018, not 2019. Seriously. I guess they aren’t ready for the new year either. I’d like to try getting it caught up before Christmas. Waking up on Christmas Morning on my own mattress would make me very happy.

I’m ready to go for my classes starting in January. I’m glad I chose online classes after all, as Human Solutions is looking at cutting off my rental assistance after February. I really don’t understand this whole mess. My pay from my internship won’t be nearly enough to pay for rent, let alone everything else. I’ll need a second job with decent pay. TG, my dude at CCC making all my contacts and arrangements, may be able to get it extended… I don’t know, so I better be ready. Which will suck. 

In other news: The attorney’s office that has been handling my disability case for almost two and a half years has decided to close my case as they don’t see a point in appealing the judge’s decision. I had been looking at changing to a different agency for pursuing the case, so this just frees me up. I just don’t fucking get why they decided to drop my case. But I’ll keep going.

My internship is going well. I find office life fascinating. Hence the quote in the title. That was what my supervisor said when I mentioned to her about not having to check with them about going to lunch and all. “So, being treated like an adult?” 

Yup. After so many years mostly in retail, I find it strange. The banter and general relaxed atmosphere is so different. I like it, and yet I’m still oddly nervous about screwing up.

Well, I plan on “arting” this weekend. I hope. I have ideas, canvasses, and paint. We’ll see how far this gets. 

~A

Posted in anxiety, auction, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, emergency, faith, friends, health, housing, job hunting, life, nanowrimo, Personal, poverty line, storage, writing

How did it get to be December already? #nanowrimo #crowdfunding (again)

The last couple of months have been a blur. Still trying to settle into the apartment, but still don’t have my stuff from storage. October sucked for jobs and November, while better, ended up going to bills and food since they cut my food stamps back to a pathetic amount. So it’s gonna go to auction later this month and I’ll be screwed yet again unless I can get it caught up with nothing short of a small Christmas Miracle. 

I’m still sleeping on the floor. Which sucks for my back. But I’m dealing. I’ve started my internship (for privacy, I’m not going to disclose where it is until after it’s over).

I also did NaNoWriMo again, and ended up doing almost 14K words on the final day. Not my biggest final day marathon, but comes in second (1st place goes to 2009 with 16K on the last day). After a break, I may clean it up, do a couple of quick’n’dirty edit runs, make a simple cover, and then release it. It’s what I classify as EnviroSF… I think there’s another term as well starting to float around. 

I need to find a second steady PT gig to help with expenses. The internship isn’t going to pay enough and it is only temporary. Working it around the internship and classes will be the biggest challenge. I just simply need more steady income. 

The big thing on my mind right now, other than getting my paperwork and everything done for school, is storage. I’m now up to about $1100 needed. I’ll post when I hear the date of the auction. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for October being all fucked up financially, I’d be fine on storage. But it sucked. And I’m back in a bind. Once it’s caught up and I have furniture out, I can work on moving everything to a smaller unit that won’t be $300/month. 

~A