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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3/27: 15 Hours and Counting Down #crowdfunding #emergency #urgent

I’m running out of steam here. I’m so close to losing everything. I can’t do this. I’m tired. I’ve asked and pleaded, I’m doing what I can, but it never seems to be enough. I have a bit in savings from my last task, but that’s barely $100. I also have other things to be paid. Like my phone, which was shut off two days ago.

There is no way I can currently afford to replace what can be replaced. And no chance in the foreseeable future. The items in there are close to me. To my heart. To my life. They have little value for anyone else. Most of what’s in there has little to no resale value. Most would consider the lot of it junk. For me, the value is in what I can do with the items in there.

I just need another chance.

~A

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

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

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.

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

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

1/26: Musing on Life

Yes, still need help with less than a week left to keep storage and get it caught up. My finances have gone sideways and I just don’t have much of anything right now. I need $700-ish to finish catching it up.

MUSINGS: I look at how my week has gone and I realize that I definitely haven’t emotionally healed from being homeless and living in the shelter. I’m still angry, still off-kilter. Still frustrated. Still lost.

I lost my internship. That was my first step to getting back on my feet for good. My health is part of what got in the way. I know I can’t let it control my life, but it does. When issues pop up and mess with your schedule because they’re messing with your ability to function, shit goes sideways fast. The other thing that was cause was that they didn’t have enough work for me to keep me busy. I tend to get into a zone when I’m working on any specific task, so I was basically too efficient for my own damn good.

That second one could be seen as a PLUS in most cases, but much of the work they had me doing at first was backlogged data entry. Once I got it caught up, there wasn’t much left.

But the first one. That’s the one I need to work on. It affects my reliability. Which affects my employability.

But that’s only part of what’s eating at me. It certainly leads into why I’m feeling off-kilter.

I’m frustrated. I feel stuck. I can’t do my old fall-back jobs (retail) anymore due to my disabilities. But the rigidity of the majority of offices is problematic as well.

So, here I am feeling like there truly is nowhere I belong. And that makes me angry. At myself. And at the world. We have a society that makes things so rigid in terms of employability that many people just don’t fit. Some do change themselves to make themselves fit that structure, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not as much of a chameleon as I used to be.

Some of the others who don’t fit have found a niche all to themselves. They have drive and focus and probably a means of financial backup. Things I don’t really have so much of.

If you asked me what my ideal job is, it would be along these lines:

• Work independently with some team work.
• Research (non-medical), data, etc
• Social Media as part of the work.
• Flexible schedule
• Reasonable pay with benefits.

Now, if you asked me about my dream job, those things all still very much apply, but with these added things:

• Live in Switzerland with my cat(s) in the different villages.
• Translating and digitizing genealogical records held in the parishes.

A bit much? Maybe. But it’s something that kind of needs to be done. As a descendant of Swiss gr-grandparents, the older records just aren’t online and accessible for those of us whose ancestors emigrated away from home. So, I’d love to live a slightly nomadic life there working in the different villages to make the older records accessible to those who don’t live there.

But I’m still sitting here, frustrated and angry. No way to clearly make that happen. Any of it. And I feel very unemployable right now. But I have to find a way to BE employable because not becoming homeless again depends on it.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask for to have a stable job, home, cats, food in the fridge, bills paid, and enough left over to save up for other things.

I’m still angry at the world from living at the shelter. I’ve managed to suppress it enough that I don’t lash out at strangers. I see people now for what they tend to be, even if it isn’t what they think they are. I see the selfishness and ego. I see the good in some, whether by actions or words, but so many others who just seem to forget that they’re in a shared society. That we all need to pitch in and work WITH each other instead of against each other.

More another time….

~A

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

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