Thursday, November 07, 2013

Thus spaketh the prophet:

It's only by the craziest of luck that I never ended up homeless. People banded together to keep me off the street, even if it wasn't always the best of people. Often some of them would do unthinkable or unforgivable things to me in the process, because too often those who take you in do so to take advantage of a weak person in need, or to obligate them. When I couldn't take it, they then threw me out and would tell all who'd hear that I'd used them, but I usually was used more. But they never let me rot in the street, which is far better than my actual family can be credited. I've never stood on my own feet, but I know that because of this, it is people that people need most. I have no luxury to carry the delusion that I need nobody, or that anybody ever goes it alone in this world. This is why community is incredible and important. Too many have nobody else if it weren't for the subcommunities they find. And some, sadly, never find that. Or they never find that trust. They hit times and places and situations that are stronger than they are. That whole platitude that there's this god that never gives us more than we can handle is bullshit. People are hit by hardships that destroy them all the time, and then are judged for it. And when you do it, it makes the situation worse. Not better. I withheld this post because I didn't want to say anything. I say this now because the news already has been out. Earlier my baby got a phone call that someone in the community must have reached one of those hardships, because he leapt from 24 stories to find peace from it all. It's not someone I know, but I know he knows him, and his roommate was very close to him and came home in tears. I know people love me. I wish everyone had the privilege to know such love. I hate that so many do not. I was there, after all, and can't believe I didn't come to that point. It baffles me that I didn't. I even came incredibly close to it the week that we visited San Francisco in 2005 with my partner from Louisville, from the way they'd made me feel so horrible during the visit. We stayed 8 stories up in the 8th St. Holiday Inn and I even stepped out, willing myself to do it. It's why that vacation was one of the worst experiences of my life, and why coming back for a visit last year was a very hard step. It's why I know jealousy can never again be a part of a relationship of love ever again. I'd like sometimes to think it was strength that I didn't reach such a point, but let's face it... even finding strength is lucky. Not everyone found the ability to build it. I was lucky that I had more than enough anger and spite in me not to let them win. Sometimes hate and spite were all that kept me alive. My luck is that my sister, my main abuser, gave me that trait, and I'll never apologize for using it if I have to. Show, share, and give love. Those whom it is hardest to love are often the ones needing it most, and I know that I'm in that category many nights. Spencer, I guarantee you had more love than you knew, from the tears I see shed tonight. And fight like fucking hell for community. It's worth it. It's often the line between those who feel their only escape from the shame they are taught to have in themselves makes them choose to die, and those who know to never let anyone shame them--that love that comes from a supportive community. Never think your community is just a hobby outside of real life. Make them your priority. They are your family, often giving you love your relatives refused. Thank you to those whom I was lucky to know, who kept me alive. I am grateful no matter what else ever happened. I truly am.