Tired

My blog is usually for general audiences. This post has profanity and content warnings.

CW: Abduction, Assault, Murder, Suicide, Transphobia, Violence
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I haven’t been sleeping properly. Probably for over a week now. The knee has been hurting. I should be able to get the MRI appointment this week. The mobility issue, the housing issue, the poverty issue are factors, but really my heart/head is hurting about other things.
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“Where are the children?” has been an ongoing nightmare. The babies, toddlers, children, separated from their families, stolen, sold, tortured, sexually assaulted, I think about answering to the ones who will survive to tell us the tales. Concentration Camps in the 21st Century?! Concentration Camps in the United States of America in 2019.
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I’m fucked up severely from all the news of black trans women being murdered. My brain turns in on itself every time I see an article, hear or read a story. There’s a sense of folding in, becoming small, becoming still. This is my community. It’s not escapable. My friends, my loves, my support system is largely made of people who are LGBTQIA and it’s trauma upon trauma. To be perfectly real, all I want to do right now is fuck and smoke. Escape. Feel good. Feel peace. For a bit.

I post a lot of Queer related things on my various social media. Not so much on this blog though. At every start of the new year I have always considered sharing every murder of a trans person in the US for the purpose of informing folks.  And because these shared posts/articles are all over my social media. At the beginning of every school term, I think about posting all the articles about our kids being killed or taking their own lives. The 9-year-old who took his own life last fall really fucked me up. I rage inside every time I hear or read about any child suicide. Even though I know that our lives matter, I don’t know if it matters that I share. I wonder if it’ll do more harm to associate lgbtq folks primarily through the lens of violence that is pervasive in our world.

Our lives are being stolen from us.

There are friends I know who put their bodies and psyches on the line every day fighting for human rights.

I don’t know where I’m really going with this, because I know so many people are going through things dark dark dark dismal. I know there are good and great things happening and I count my blessings every fucking day. Yet the state of our country right now feels inescapably nightmarish. I know when I sleep I’ll feel better but I’m scared to sleep because I’m scared to dream. I’m a DREAMER so it feels like at this time there’s no respite, rest, reprieve. Just tired y’all. So tired.

 

Blake Brockington, We Speak Your Name

I cried when I saw the news that Blake had died. The first article I read on Tuesday didn’t offer much information. It just said that the community was mourning. I had to search around a bit to find out how he died. He took his own life.

Today I came across a Huffington piece about Blake and his life.  His death has hit me hard. I am mourning all that he was and would’ve been and also for all the other teens who have taken their lives, especially in the last couple months. It’s just so sad. Our kids are killing themselves and I have no idea what to do about it.

I was suicidal in my teens. I was in an incredible amount of emotional pain. And I have had similar feelings at certain periods in my adult life. Though as an adult, it has been more about weariness. Tired in my bones and in my soul.
One of my doctor’s called it depression.
I called it, apathy. Whatever the term, I didn’t want to be here on earth anymore. The thing that pulled me out of it that winter of 2011 was literally my love for lgbt people. Someone I knew was going through a breakup with his husband of 12 years. We were in the hospital together and we were in a group session and had to come up with one thing to look forward to in our life. There was a People magazine around and the guy going through the breakup, picked an article about country star Chely Wright getting married and said that it made him feel hopeful about his future, that he would find a man who he loved and loved him and one day be married. I started tearing up and just felt this overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the beauty of us as lgbt folk. Like I know so many brave and loving souls and I want to see us in the movies, on stage, in music, in day to day to life, just everywhere loving and living our lives without fear of violence and discrimination. That love for us was enough to clear my head for me to meet with my doctor and try to live some more.

When I got out of the hospital, the “It Gets Better” campaign was flourishing and that helped to. I don’t know if you remember or know but in Fall of 2011 is when we lost like 5 or more? gay teens (middle school-first year in college) to suicide in the first two weeks of the Fall semester. It was devastating and still is. Every time I hear about a kid committing suicide it hurts.

This is all I want to say for now. Here’s a link from a blog post I wrote when I got out of the hospital 39 months ago. I am sharing it at this time because I feel that I need to. Maybe it’ll help someone.

Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. LGBT youth can also reach out to The Trevor Project Lifeline at 1-866-488-7386.

And here are a few pictures of Blake. Rest in Peace young warrior.