But seriously, yolks!

I've been writing this blog for over five months now and I've learned virtually nothing from it except that I can somewhat regularly arrange my thoughts into words, sentences and paragraphs that, although they are perhaps without intrinsic worth to justify them being so, are accessible to the whole world via the internet.

But I've rarely gone back through the writing to tell whether I've made any personal or artistic progress. My impression is that for me it has been an accessory to my emotional and thought process such that I can for the moment understand what is happening to/for me. However, it has been less than perfect at teaching or informing others about how to do the same for whatever ailments/advantages we may share in common. I don't think it reads as well to you as it does even to me.

At this moment, I may compare my life to walking down a path at night in a rural area like my mother grew up in eighty years ago. There are few signposts I can read with my lantern. There are few landmarks such as streams, bridges, barns and neighbors' houses that can guide me in my journey home or my flight to somewhere else. The model Ts, As, the horses are driven by people who may or may not feel the need to show kindness to a middle-aged woman (not to mention transgender woman) who appears to have lost her bearings. There are no phones to use along the road, and many houses do not have their own line. After hours of walking without knowing that I am any closer to my destination, the question becomes, where and how do I rest?
My home is unavailable to me whether from distance or familial choice; strangers are not apt to take me in; "charity" is far away and humiliating to accept. Further, where and how I rest will influence my plans for the future. I may have to spend days working off boarding fees; I may not reach safety and will have to defend myself without much ability to do so. The moon is bright, but it is beginning to rain and I am beginning to panic.

This was to give you a word picture of what is happening with me. Today I told my mother that it was clear to me that my presence in the house was too much for her. I called several (3) agencies in Tucson that the gay and lesbian community center there had recommended as having services for transgender people. Two of them had no housing services, the third I am waiting to hear from.

So far, so bad. I know no one in Tucson. Boardinghouses there are, I hear, rife with drug consumption. Violence is as bad as it used to be in NYC 10-15 years ago. But I would be close enough to my mother to be able to visit her in these years ahead.

I don't have Medicaid any more (I make 60 dollars too much a year) so I may not be eligible for any of these budget-cut programs anyway.

In New York I would have a personal introduction to my boardinghouse, and have at least the chance/breathing room to find another place to live. But one of the reasons I departed there was that my definition of love, which is the ethic of street living, was political and not from the heart. I came to know that I did not belong there and perhaps was in danger. I do not know whether I have changed enough to reverse that judgment.

On the plus side in New York, my mind is heavily affected by the New York state of mind such that even if I have enemies there, I know who they are and what they are saying to me.

I have some money saved, so were it not for the likelihood that I would find temptation, I could theoretically find a private apartment or roommate situation. But I am mentally ill. I do need care. I do need to face reality. Whatever choice I make will have serious drawbacks, call down a lot of family and friend pressure/criticism, and will leave me at best far from fulfilling those tantalizing goals called for instance, a writing/teaching/political career; or even a typing, secretarial/office career.

I need to be aware that I am on my own in a way that I have never been before. There's a lot to be said for that.

I need to go where I can give aid and comfort even as I am receiving it.

I need to relax and know that there will be an end to it and that I am a lover and a good person.

I believe that whoever reads this will in some sense know that i am not being very gentle with myself and that this may lead to danger.

Gently, gently, I can and will find succor, even if it only at the bosom of Nature. I am willing to go wherever the path leads me. I hope I have your thoughts and prayers.

I have been very spoiled, or at least sheltered.

I am going to be okay, because there is kindness and justice and beauty within me and they will always win over cynicism, doubt and judgment.

Love, c*

Top o'the Morning to ya.

I AM ALIVE!