Watch Me Try to Stand on My Feet Again

Your heart, your will, your car-
They’ve all been broken
You let everybody
You got beat
And it’s not entertaining
Watching you try to stand on your feet again

Can’t stop the world

The GoGo’s

Monday was my first full day back in my home. I slept pretty late, both because I was exhausted and because there’s no window in my bedroom so no sun or moon.

I had the house to myself during the day. That gave me time and room to get reacclimated. I did some chores, watched TV, searched for batteries, those sort of mundane tasks.

Tasks I will never take for granted again. I basked in each mundane detail – struggling with the new mop, making coffee, even scooping litter boxes.  I reveled in simply being here and not having to leave.

Several friends checked in with me. That was comforting and reassuring. I’ve struggled with feeling isolated because I have no access to a car.

The cats? Well, they’ve been great. Quartermaine took to the cat bed under my bed right away. Lots of visits last evening, including my sweet Spencer – am unexpected surprise.

Overnight, I felt multiple sets of paws creeping over me. At least one someone curled up with me. Quite comforting. I slept very well.

The next morning I went up to the attic to crack  a window and found Spencer sitting in the cat tree AND he didn’t dash away. He watched me putter around, but didn’t flee.

What comes next?


I still slept pretty hard. I had virtual therapy. More light chores, more unpacking of my things. Blogging about the violent killing of two more trans folx, Torrence Chevy Hill in Atlanta and Reyna Hernandez of Renton, Washington. Then mulling over the many parallels in their narratives. Monitoring the latest developments in the investigation of the death of Nex Benedict. Touching base with people on the ground in Oklahoma.

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Blogging about my father. Blogging about GLAAD polling data. Preparing for three separate interviews about my blogging.

Today, Thursday was fine. I met with one of those journalists over a cup of coffee at Yinz Coffee. Our conversation stirred up some old memories, giving me new context for why I do this work. It took someone external to connect some dots. That helped give me some of moxie back to continue with the work.

Oh I also watched General Hospital each day. My nephews teased me relentlessly about my soap fandom. One of their moms stopped by with some of my personal effects. She reminded me that I promised to pet sit their cats over Easter weekend AND more importantly to stay with the young men while Moms take a week long trek in June. Younger nephew (12) in insistent I turn up. In return, I get to drive Mom’s fancy car that week to tootle him around.

I’m hoping to go to NYC in May to visit my college roommates family and attend the GLAAD Media Awards. As a nominee, I get to walk the red carpet. My roommate will come with me but is prepared to simply hold my purse while she tries to guess the identities of the celebrities. Its good to be the friend and escort of a red carpet nominee, no?

So, really what comes next? That’s time I can spend with the cats getting them further along in behavior and health.

A friend offered me a gently used slipper chair Another friend offered me cute small wing chair recliner. The two should coordinate nicely nicely in the attic living space with a small tv and a small desk from which to blog. I spent the first five years or so blogging in the attic so it is an interesting return.

Now to find someone with a truck to haul the slipper chair and then some strong young people to haul them up to the third floor. This is a real testament to reclaiming familiar space with new purposes. It will be nice to have somewhere else in the house that’s private to hang out. Plus, I do anticipate positive impacts on the attic cats as they get used to me being there.

Do you have a truck?

Tomorrow ushers in the weekend. What will I do? No on has invited me anywhere. I can ask and I”m sure someone will respond. I can focus on relaunching the #ProtectTransKids project in addition to reacquainting myself with the cat colonies.

Being without a car is new. I can’t remember the last time it happened. There’s not a lot of car dealers looking for sponsored drivers these days. I could not take on a car payment ever, not on SSDI. So I will begin walking and work my way up to the local business district. I’ll relearn the bus and figure out how the T can help me.

I guess a sponsored truck is really what I need?

To be honest, I’d like to find an older car to convert with paint into Cat Car 2.0.

Overall, this week has gone smoothly than I ever anticipated. That’s very good. I have to face som demons from my traumas six months ago. It is like little fingers tapping on my shoulders, not overwhelming me but remind me they are there.

But I am stronger than anyone thought. I found solutions, leaned into friends and supporters, and fought for my rights. If these terrible things like a false 302 happens again, I can get through it. I can ask for help. I can continue to blog constructively even under duress.

Still, at the end of the day, I am alone. Both of my parents died in the past two years, my brother basically said “see ya” as he returned to his life, and my wife wants a divorce. I don’t want to end up as the maiden aunt who creeps around the house, taken in by friends. I want a measure of independence and reliable resources. I have a lot to offer the world, but my model is not sustainable. I will always relay on donations and have to earn them.

I truly hope Pittsburgh’s Foundation Community is aware of my plight and steps in to help. But I’m not sure queer media is on their respective radars.

For now, I face Friday. Laundry, little boxes, and hopefully no further memorial posts this week. That would content me.


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