I haven't been too sympathetic to T girls who do dumb things, like walking around in the city at 2:00 AM. Oh, I have felt the pain of their passing; it being so unnessessary, but I've felt that some actions are passive suicide. I just wish that someone would have loved them enough to talk some sense to them.
I've been doing pretty good; dated some; looking for a companion; living alone is too hard. So far, my dates have been good for me. I'm getting out; starting a new life; things are looking up. Today, I'm working on the required education to get my Supervising Electrician's license back. I'm acting like I have a future. I hope that I can make it come into existence. Maybe God will help me.
It may all be a waste of time. Maybe I just killed myself.
I looked at an email from a Muslim Transgender site and it led to an article in Willamette Week, a small,local fringe newspaper. It was called "The Queer and the Qur'an", and I know almost everone mentioned in that article. I wrote an anonimous letter to the editor in response; briefly describing my sad experience with the Islamics here in Portland. It led to my only really serious attempt at suicide. Fortunately a honking horn about 3 feet from me startled me enough to somewhat come to my senses and I got out of the middle of the freeway. It's been over a year and I am doing much, much better now.
Oops, back on the subject; sorry to ramble. Well much to my surprise, the reporter who'd written the story emailed me, wanting to talk to me. Well, one thing led to another, and soon I am meeting him at a local coffee shop; back in my Muslimah regalia. I had a Double Carmel Machiatto. We talked about an hour, and before I know it we are in the park and he is taking a picture of me. (Strictly verbotten as a Muslimah). The Article will detonate on the street next week.
Why did I do that? He has a picture of me; my real name; and knows I live in Portland. What was I thinking? I now realize that perhaps my comical pleas for a Master may not have been that comical. Maybe I do need someone with me that has common sense; probably too late now.
What was I thinking?
Maybe I just got sick of the crap that every GBLT person encounters? Maybe I just got fed up, got sick, got angry and decided to do something about it if I could? He asked me if I was an activist? I told him NO. I don't think anyone consciously sets out to be one. Right now, I'd feel a lot happier if someone gave me a good sound spanking. I'm upset and tense. What was I thinking?
Maybe the fact that Willamette Week is a tiny publication; unlikely to be read my Red Necks, will save me. If it does, what is to stop me from acting like a child again? Was I passively suicidal? I don't think so.
What was I thinking...Should I be frightened?
What the hell, none of us lives forever.
Comments
Keep us posted
Did you call the reporter, or send an email to voice your reservations/fears? Is it too late for that?
It's too late.
At first, I felt the courage of conviction. Now, I wonder. Am I too emotional? Did I think this was a chance to punish the Muslims? If I did, I sure messed it up. Maybe what you see in my stories is real. Maybe I am incompetent; not to be allowed out alone?
Maybe I am being entirely to dramatic about it all. Perhaps it is simply a tempest in my own mind. Maybe nothing will come of it.
Gwen, please write the reporter ...
Gwen, please write and ask for a fictitious name to be used, even if the picture is used.
One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.
Holly
One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.
Holly
Gwen!
Gwen: Lets not hear any talk of doing it! Please talk to that reporter if that needs to be done. And, You shoulded be held for what we as Americans do all the time with picture taking. Now we have lost too many on this site due to accidents and health issues lets not be talking about taking a precious life it not worth it because of a simple possible mistake! Richard
Richard
Not suicidal
Maybe I am just being over dramatic here. Maybe it is OK.
Maybe I am a Drama Queen like some people say. I am trying to think about what is best; what may make a mark; what may make it a little easier for other women like me.
I think about all the years that I spent on poles, ladders, down in manholes, working on live panels. I had to just turn my fear off. I could not permit it until later. Then no one wanted to hear it; too unmanly.
I've changed a lot; can have emotions now; can't turn them off like I used to; asked for this didn't I?
Today, I was studying; taking a quiz and one of the questions was worded badly. I got it wrong; I started to cry because it was unfair. Then laughed at myself; such a GIRL now. Will I be strong enough to deal with male Electricians? If I cry, they'll laugh me out of there.
There is so much going on right now. I feel overwhelmed.
Maybe I will call Tara tomorrow and ask her if she thinks I was stupid? Maybe the reporter won't get mad if I ask him to call me Hala in the article? Most people won't recognize me. One of my friends is hardly talking to me.
I am sorry if I upset anyone. I was just thinking things through.
I'm gonna keep dating. Maybe I will find some one who I can love, cook for, clean house, and make love to. Maybe he will listen to me and not let me get into trouble.
I feel like I kicked a bee hive. I am sorry if you are so mad at me. I will try to do better.