Trauma, Pain, and Suicidality

I’m continuing to read Diana’s old Facebook posts, and it still seems that the overarching issue here was economics, the fear of losing everything and having to start over again, the fear of facing homelessness (or being dependent on others or systems) for the 7th time in her life.

Please don’t tell me this wasn’t really about ‘soul-crushing job rejections’ that would likely have made the other hard stuff in the world a whole lot easier to bear.

Most people have no clue what Diana went through in her life, or what many trans folks (and especially sex workers) have to endure.

I long for a day when our community is trauma-informed, and when those with hiring power make hiring decisions that factor in marginalization.

On November 30th, 2016, she wrote:

Reality Check
also, trigger warning. Not for the squeamish

It was really nice to put all my bullshit on hold for a week, and go on that cruise. When we planned it a year ago, I had no idea whether or not I’d be able to afford it when the time came.

Bullshit is no longer on hold. Reality is back.

This year has been really hard. Mental health issues, relationship struggles, walking away from the last family I had, burn-out with survival sex work, soul-crushing job rejections, the collapse of the low & mid range internet escort market due to the war on whores & our advertising platforms, Pulse, epidemic trans murders, sick friends, dying friends, dead friends – just to get started on my list of difficult. Add to that all the proxy trauma of being aware of the oppression and suffering of folks I care about, and people I don’t even know. It’s a lot.

I wasn’t actually able to afford this trip (though it didn’t cost much at all), just like I haven’t been able to afford rent for the last few months. I’ve put most of my living expenses on credit cards (including rent), and now almost all of them are in default.

On a bright note, my mental health seems to have stabilized. The meds, and a really good therapist, have done me a lot of good. But I feel like it’s too little too late.

I’ve been through losing everything and starting over plenty of times. I’ve been homeless 6 times in my life. I’ve been married, divorced, raised and lost families, then made more. And I’ve lost my sanity twice.

Honestly, I don’t know if I want to keep on doing this thing called life. I’ve been in existential crisis over what it means or doesn’t mean to go through losing everything and starting over again, potentially going into the shelter system, and trying to get on disability. If that’s a life that I even want to live. Or spending the next months/years couch surfing. Or becoming dependent on someone who loves me enough to take me in.

I see in other countries how people with chronic illnesses and even just unbearable trauma are able to access physician assisted suicide, and die with dignity, surrounded by the people they love. I wish that this were an option for me. I hate that my option for ending things would have to be secretive, alone, and either violent or unlikely to succeed.

Anyway, I haven’t given up yet. Yet. Only a few doors and windows left to check though. The set of constrained choice is fairly minuscule right now. Watching, waiting, hustling, and getting my featherless ducks in a row.



Backlog 20 – 1/28/17 – 1/31/17

Jan 28, 2017. 9:43am.

Facebook used to be a mental refuge. Now it’s just awful to even look at status updates. The world seems to be falling apart, and the one being whose arms I wish I could take shelter in is no longer here.

Jan 28, 2017. 5:55am.

So much love and gratitude for my friends, Karen and Luke, who helped me get all of the large items from Diana’s place to mine today, and for being so patient with me as I moved through many emotions.  I love you both so much, and I think the universe brought you back to Miami at just the right time. Thank you again.

Jan 28, 2017. 10:22pm.

I’m kinda on a date, if you can believe that, and I dunno if that’s a great thing or a horrible thing…

Jan 29, 2017. 10:15am.

Waking up alone in my apartment on a cool, rainy Sunday morning feels like a cruel, cruel joke. On a morning like this, Diana and I would surely have loved and snuggled and talked in her bed for hours. Why is being in this world so hard?

Jan 29, 2017. 12:12pm.

I felt that all the time with her – I think she did too. And yet I still don’t believe she is gone.

“Our plans for the future made us laugh and feel close, but those same plans somehow made anything more than temporary between us seem impossible. It was the first time I’d ever had the feeling of missing someone I was still with.”
Stuart Dybek

Jan 29, 2017. 1:00pm.

I go back and forth between thinking I’ll never find great love again, and never wanting to again. Both thought processes result in a feeling of hopelessness.

Jan 29, 2017. 2:55pm.

I got out of bed, showered, fed the cats, made rice, warmed up leftovers to go with the rice, and ate a bowl of food.

I feel like I just hiked a mountain.

Jan 29, 2017. 11:17pm.

Sex Workers Outreach Project, SWOP, wrote about my love, Diana Hemingway (founder of SWOP South Florida). It is deeply meaningful to me to see the scope of Diana’s reach, and to see others honoring her legacy:

Jan 29, 2017. 11:48pm.

I get so wrapped up in my own grief that sometimes I lose sight of how very much Diana meant to so many people and communities.

My love is gone, but so is an incredible activist, teacher, lifelong learner, fixer-upper, sexual healer, nurturer, artist, lover, advocate, kinkster, writer, photographer … Just like, wtf. This is still so awful.

Jan 30, 2017. 9:19am.

WHY do I keep waking up at 7 or 7:30 every morning no matter what time I go to sleep or what sleeping aids I use?! And it’s always with a burst of anxiety. I’m so tired.

Jan 30, 2017. 7:21pm.

Realized tonight that Diana and I never even made it to a baseball game. She really wanted to take me. There were so many more memories to make, so many plans we’d made. I am truly heartbroken, and don’t know how or if I’ll ever heal.

Jan 31, 2017. 1:55am.

One of Diana’s friends paid for me to have three remote (phone) singing bowl healing sessions with a Shaman. My second one was today.

Today was the first day I felt more numbness than pain (which made me far more functional).

I really am trying to trust in the spiritual realm in a way I never have before. This session really did seem to help. I’ll take numbness over debilitating heartache and guilt any day.

Jan 31, 2017. 9:56am.

I shared this quote with Diana in mind a year ago today:  “Maybe that’s what love is. Having someone who guides you through different experiences, coaxes you to try news things, but still makes you feel safe.”
Wally Lamb, We Are Water

God I miss her.

Jan 31, 2017. 10:04am.

When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.” ~Madeleine L’Engle

Jan 31, 2017. 11:46am.

Today makes six weeks.

I am missing Diana so much this morning. My heart and body are aching. The numbness I felt yesterday was short-lived.

I am running out of energy to keep grieving this way. I read that partners who lose partners (esp. unexpectedly) sometimes die of a broken heart within the first year. I really feel this could happen to me.

Backlog 19 – 1/25/17 & 1/26/17

Jan 25, 2017. 1:15pm.

This is HUGE news, and a beacon of hope for me during a really dark time.

Dr. Kelley Winters has officially been announced as the Keynote for this year’s TransCon by Aqua Foundation. Kelley is a prolific and published writer, speaker, activist, and academic in the trans community. She fought tirelessly for Gender Identity Disorder (GID) reform, and is a huge part of why GID was renamed “Gender Dysphoria” in the DSM-V.

Kelley was also very close to Diana Hemingway (they were actually roommates when Kelley lived in Florida). For years, Diana has been hoping Kelley would be asked to speak in Miami for something! In fact, Diana noted her as “the best keynote speaker I’ve ever heard.” That’s saying a LOT.

Diana would be truly proud of our community and of Aqua Foundation for bringing in a TransCon speaker that has been relentless in her efforts to honor the lives and dignity of transgender people everywhere.

Jan 25, 2017. 2:44pm.

I was asked to speak at the Point Foundation Cornerstone Brunch next month. It is very surreal to be writing about the loss of my hero and my love, Diana Hemingway, but her story must be told.

Jan 26, 2017. 1:50am.

Lying awake, just looking at old pictures.  Love this one of her:

Special Moments:

She made me this meme back in July.  I so miss our love.

Jan 26, 2017. 8:56am.

Some mornings, most mornings, I just feel so so sick.

Jan 26, 2017. 12:42pm

I spent much of my morning reading about the afterlife, and about consciousness existing beyond our physical form.

There seems to be so much evidence out there (including stuff backed by science and physics) that proves our journeys do not end in our physical form. Too many things have occurred for people that seem far beyond “chance” and “coincidence.”

This has brought me a bit of peace today. I am going to continue to explore these topics. Perhaps it really is possible that time with my love is not over; maybe it is temporarily in different form, and we will be reunited when my time here is done.

Tribute to Diana Hemingway

I shared the following tribute to Diana Hemingway at both the Celebration of Love and Celebration of Hope & Faith for her.  While it’s extremely vulnerable, I’ve learned to live my life that way, just as we did together, and so I’m going to record it here:

Over the past three years, I fell deeply in love with a beautiful soul named Diana Hemingway.  When this began as a hookup on November 18th, 2013 (forever named our sexy-versary), I had no idea that I would fall in love with her.  She told me that she had hunted me, that I was her prey.  She called herself the Huntress.  And so yes, I suppose I was hunted.  And I have no regrets about being her prey, even now.

Neither of us wanted love, and in fact, we resisted it at every turn for quite awhile.  I was the first one to give into the feelings.  I remember telling her that I loved her for a few months before she said it back.  I’d say, “I love you.”  And she’d say, in a very stoic, Diana-like way, “Thank you for telling me.”  I didn’t give up.  There was something about her, about our conversations, about our hookups that turned into lovemaking (and three hour conversations), that held me absolutely captive.

We moved through all of this very, very slowly.  We checked in with one another on a regular basis.  We held with great respect and delicacy each other’s thoughts, feelings, and desires.  All of this was organic.  In fact, we did not even know how to name an official anniversary date until we looked back at our many memories for a defining moment.

That moment took place at Stonewall Pride in 2014 in Wilton Manors.  We had been attending some of the Pride festivities and having drinks on the Drive. I was really sweaty, and Diana convinced me to take off my binder. She assured me that it would be fine, and told me that Pride was about liberation. So I went in the bathroom of the bar and removed it, and joined her back at the bar. She then urged me to walk down the streets with her during Stonewall Pride, with my binder completely off, my shirt open, a simple brown tie hanging between my chesticles. She took off her top and her shorts, and walked only in damn-near-see-thru underwear. Walking hand-in-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder, we became the talk of the town. People couldn’t figure us out. Other people asked us to pose for pictures. I was anxious, but I did it. She gave me courage all of the time.

We came back to the house and met up with Diana’s good friend, Carvelle. I hardly knew Carvelle, but Diana quickly set the stage for the type of spontaneous and deeply intimate interactions that were so prominent in her life — the three of us drank, teased, laughed, cuddled, and took pictures.  She emailed me the pictures the next day, with the subject heading “A Pride to Remember.”  And indeed, I will never forget that evening.  It changed my life. It changed our relationship.  Diana lived each moment with wild abandon, and she encouraged others to do just the same.

There was a tragic and difficult side to our love, a sense of impending doom because she had told me early on in our relationship that she always hurts her lovers in the end.  She warned me not to get too close.  I did not, or rather could not, hear her.  We were already “too close.”

Recently, she also told me that she is the one who always leaves her relationships, and that she felt that our relationship would be no different.  I laid on her couch in tears as she rattled off the options:  “I’ll get sick and die before you, or I’ll have a heart attack, or I’ll get wanderlust and run off to California, or I’ll commit suicide.” Diana was always suicidal, but I simply could not leave our love for fear of losing it.

On December 20th, 2016, she took her own life at the age of 46.  She was only 13 years older than me, but easily two lifetimes wiser.  She struggled with mental illness, societal rejection, facing the threat of homelessness, the cruelty of the world, and survival.  She ended her suicide note to me by signing “Yours forever, in love that never dies.”

When someone is your everything, and they leave, you feel like you are left with nothing.  And yet, I know I have so much — the memories of our love are vibrant, strong, and important.

And while Diana had the opportunity to write me a letter affirming her love for me, sadly, I did not get that privilege.  I think I will be writing to her for years, but I am going to share with you a bit of what I wrote to her today:

Dearest Diana,

I love you so so very much.  While I may never fully understand the details of your decision to leave us, to leave me, on December 20th, please know, love, that I will always respect your autonomy.  I respect that you did not intentionally involve others in this act without their consent.  I respect your decision to re-enter the circle of life.  I hold you with nothing but compassion, like a baby bird in my hands.  I know that you left this world to avoid further trauma and harm at the hands of many systems.  While the pain of losing you is the deepest pain I have ever known, and I wish nothing more than to have held you in your final hours, I know that you sought to protect me and my career — thank you, love.

I will miss you with my whole being.  Here are some of the things I will miss the most:

-Hearing you tell me how much you loved me.  After all, it damn sure took awhile.
-Holding you in my arms
-Laughing at the tops of our lungs together
-Talking with you for hours on end, sometimes until the sun came up.  You were the most engaged, dynamic conversationalist I’ve ever known.
-Over time, figuring out your humor, knowing when I’d walked into a verbal trap, and being able to say “I knew you were going to say that” after almost every one of my verbal slip-up’s and every one of your ridiculous deadpan jokes.
– Listening to your many, many stories of your many, many past lives.
-Waking up in your bed, sometimes to you next to me, other times to the sound of your mouse wheel scrolling in the living room as you read through article after article, patiently waiting for me to wake up.
-Analyzing ALL OF THE FUCKERY of community politics and the players involved.
-Driving up and down A1A playing Pokemon Go.
-Trying new things with you.
-Going to Laspada’s and Skyline chili with you
-Venting to you about my struggles and having you make space for me.
-Sunday mornings and afternoons spent in bed with you, in love and in lust.
-Feeling you inside of me, on top of me, all over me.
-Submitting to your control of my body and letting you feed my desires.
-Petting your head.
-Laying in your lap, and staring up into your gorgeous eyes while you pet my head.
-Watching you mush all your food around and together on your plate.
-Listening to your views on politics, anarchy, and FUCKING SHIT UP.
-Sitting naked with you, crosslegged, touching each others thighs as we worked through conflict and hard times.
-Crying with you.
-Visioning with you.
-Going to the bars with you on Wilton drive, and walking back home to fall into each other’s arms in bed.
-Kissing your mouth and staring into your eyes, sometimes giggling and laughing, other times crying.
-Going to Billy’s with you for Lemon Pepper wings.
-Rolling over and letting you scratch my back.
-Walking into my apartment to find you sitting with and petting the cats when we had plans in Miami (because of course, I was always late, even to my own damn house).
-Updating you throughout the day on little things, and receiving your updates in return.
-Laughing at your general silliness and your silly jokes.
-Watching you prance around the house naked.
-Attending community events with you, seeing, feeling your support.
-Crafting our never-ending lists of movies to watch, restaurants to eat at.
-Embracing our fantasies and trying on new things constantly.
-Hearing you say hello to my cats in your quirky “Hi Puppies!”
-Seeing your happiness when you got to do something that filled you with pride and purpose.
-Saying good morning to you each day.
-Spooning with you in bed.  Big spoon, little spoon, switchy spoons.
-Chuckling to myself from the moment I met you at a meeting, and almost every time thereafter, when you entered a room with a 2-liter of Diet Mountain Dew.
-Evolving, becoming a better person with you.
-Holding one another accountable and working through our mistakes.
-Opening the door to your apartment and hearing you say “hi, baby!”
-Sharing our writings with one another.
-Watching you in huntress mode at a bar or a kink event.
-Most recently, traveling with you, photographing with you.
-Making new memories with you.
-Finally, I will miss taking risks with you – including the very risk involved in loving one another at all.

It was just Sunday, December 18th, two days before your death, that we talked about how we must both continue embracing our desire for connection, because it so very worth it, even when the fear of losing it is very real.  We were both terrified of loss, you because you’ve lost so many families, and me because of your suicidality, but we knew that this was right.  You held me as I cried, and you said you recognized how very hard the fear of losing you has been for me.

Yes, the fear of losing was always hard… and now it’s real.  And this is harder.

You’re not here with me in physical form anymore to hold me while I cry or to pet my head through the hard feelings.  I feel empty and destroyed, but I know that you did not want that for me longterm.  I also do not know what I feel just yet about spirituality, but I do think you’ve already been sending me indicators that the risks that we took, the vulnerability that we embraced, and the love that we made – made sense.  I believe in my being that you are sending me signs that you are at peace, and that I was not responsible for your decision or need to go.

And I am so profoundly thankful for the time that you were here.  That we were here together.  As I have said before, and as you echoed back to me in your final letter, every moment with you has been a gift.

My laybae, my girlfriend, my relationship anarchist, my lovie, my lover, my partner — You wanted to show me what good love was – you did that and so very much more.  I did not know what love really was before I met you.  And now I do.

I will be eternally grateful for our good love, for all that you taught me, showed me, bestowed upon me, instilled within me — And I will always love you.

Yours forever, in love that never dies.

Accountability and Change

There MUST be accountability and change in our community. If I am to survive and continue in this fight, to be here for our young people, to be here to offer love and to be here to receive love, I will need you to fight alongside me – – especially in the coming months, while I am deeply depleted and grieving the loss of the greatest love I have ever known.

As the person that was closest to Diana, I really need folks to understand and accept that Diana’s mental health did NOT ultimately push her to take her life. She warrior-style battled mental health issues all of her life, and damn near overcame them entirely in the last three months of her physical existence. She wasn’t anxious, she wasn’t depressed, she wasn’t manic. If anything, in our many recent discussions, she was clear, grounded, rational.

She was also clearer than ever that she was worth more than the world was offering to her (and many other brilliant and highly employable trans folks), and she wasn’t willing to settle. She wasn’t willing to work three jobs to keep her apartment. She wasn’t willing to keep doing sex work. She wasn’t willing to expose herself to systems that might cause further harm to her, just to survive.

For those that missed this, she wrote this on November 19th, 2016, a day before TDOR, and a month and one day before ending her life:

“… I’ve gone through a whole world of hurt this year.

There were many times when I wanted to throw in the towel. I’ve lived a lot of life, and a lot of lives, and my prospects for the future have seemed bleak. Therapy and medication have helped a lot as far as how I feel and think goes, but haven’t changed my circumstances.”

She went on to say:

“TDOR is officially tomorrow. More of my people have been murdered in the United States this year than ever recorded before. Many many more have ended their own lives – children, youth, adults, and seniors – in every circumstance imaginable. Death is an ever-present reality when you are trans, and it rarely waits for old age and infirmity to take you. That was true long before this past election, which has folks so terrified.”

Her circumstances, a result of systemic oppression and trauma, killed her.

We need to really examine and own how we regard and (mis)treat trans folks in our community [especially trans women, sex workers, non-binary, neurodivergent trans folks] — from employment, to health care, to mental health care. This conversation is long overdue.

Backlog 18 – 1/24/17

Jan 24, 2017. 3:21am.

It is both surreal and heartbreaking to bring home every gift I ever gave to Diana. Today makes five weeks, and I still feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. There are still many moments and many days when I don’t think I can really survive this.

Jan 24, 2017. 3:33am.

It doesn’t matter how hard I try to turn them off, I am still absolutely plagued by “what if’s.” I am exhausted.

Jan 24, 2017. 3:38am.

My mind misses your thoughts. My heart misses your love. My body misses your touch. My ears miss your voice.

Please help me understand and accept your absence. I feel lost without you, my sweetest love.

Jan 24, 2017. 9:49am.

I just want to turn off the noise of the entire world. It’s all too much.

Jan 24, 2017. 10:28am.

I don’t know how to forgive the many entities/people that inflicted harm upon my love over the years.

The many entities that denied her employment, despite her being qualified, able, willing, desiring of meaningful work.

The more of her old posts I read, the more I am validated in knowing that they killed her spirit, so she killed her body.

Our systems are so broken. Which is exactly how I feel.

Jan 24, 2017. 5:22pm.

There is so much we planned to do together. How could she just walk away from our love and our life like this? How?


Backlog 17 – 1/23/17

Jan 23, 2017. 4:42am.

How did we not at least have mental health directives written out? I just can’t help but to feel I failed her, me, us – in so any ways.

Jan 23, 2017. 8:42am.

slept in 1-2 hour chunks again all night, but I finally dreamt of Diana.

We were with friends, prepping for a play on topics that impact our community, including suicide. She had a part involving kissing someone, and she was working through consent with that person — ensuring that the kiss would be how/where they wanted it, so that it would be comfortable for both of them. So very her.

Jan 23, 2017. 8:57am.

So when someone reported Diana Hemingway deceased to Facebook, her artist/photography page got shut down as well. This was truly not okay. I wish that whomever did this would come forth and explain why. Just more layers of loss.

Jan 23, 2017. 9:17am.

In honor of my love, I got up and scatted with the great Zoë Lewis last night at her show — on one of my favorite tunes, Breakfast Blues.

Thank you for the invite to the show, Sharon, thank you to Zoe for this opportunity to revisit my history of making music, and thank you to Tobias for filming. — with Tobias Packer and Zoë Lewis at LUNA STAR CAFE.

Jan 23, 2017. 10:34am.

My aunt passed a year ago today. There is so much darkness in the world and in my heart today.

Jan 23, 2017. 6:35pm.

Today, I indoctrinated our friend, Jack, into the ways of Laspada’s subs (one of our favorite places) just like Diana did with me. #healing #sharing #family #missyou

Image may contain: one or more people, people eating and food

Image may contain: 2 people, people eating, eyeglasses and food

Just one month prior

This was posted by Diana to Facebook on 11/19/2016, just a day before our seven-day Western Caribbean cruise, and just one month and one day prior to her suicide.

“CW: suicidality, murder, TDOR

Moment of honesty*

This cruise has been for me what I call a milestone: something that I look forward to as a “cannot end my life before this” point in time. I’m a little surprised that I made it. This milestone has been in place for 10 months, and I’ve gone through a whole world of hurt this year.

There were many times when I wanted to throw in the towel. I’ve lived a lot of life, and a lot of lives, and my prospects for the future have seemed bleak. Therapy and medication have helped a lot as far as how I feel and think goes, but haven’t changed my circumstances.

In thinking about what I could still look forward to that would be powerful enough to go through this next phase of my life, I’ve been concentrating on my art and especially my photography. It has given me great joy to exhibit some of my work this year.

When I get back from this trip, I have some really big decisions to make. I’m not going to let myself think about them until this adventure is complete. And I’m coming back with LOTS of photos to go through.

TDOR is officially tomorrow. More of my people have been murdered in the United States this year than ever recorded before. Many many more have ended their own lives – children, youth, adults, and seniors – in every circumstance imaginable. Death is an ever-present reality when you are trans, and it rarely waits for old age and infirmity to take you. That was true long before this past election, which has folks so terrified.

Maybe I’ve had enough for one life. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll be okay getting through the next year, and the next, and the next. I definitely have a great love in my life (he really is the greatest), and the love of many friends. And I know I’m strong enough to make it through if I choose to.

For now, it’s a matter of existential choices. And cruise ships.

Love always

*actually, I’m pretty much always that, though I keep the most burdensome stuff to myself most of the time.”

My reply to her was:

“I just finished packing for the milestone trip. I hadn’t seen this post until now. I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure you’d make it — then again, there were many points during this year that I wasn’t sure I would either.

You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and I am so glad that you are still here. Your love, your brilliance, y(our) dialogue, and your creativity has sustained and fueled me.

I really believe that together, things will just keep getting better from here on out. Not because we need each other — but because we still want each other. I love you so much, and I cannot wait to share this week-long adventure with you — to make love, to make laughter, to make art.”

I still cannot believe she is gone.  Her words are so powerful.

Backlog 16 – 1/21/17 & 1/22/17

Jan 21, 2017. 2:06am.

Each time I am able to share Diana’s suicide note with someone else, especially with someone who knew her, it feels like spreading the pain out a little bit among others.

Jan 21, 2017. 9:32am.

Waking up on Saturdays used to be the best. I would get so excited about spending time with Diana all weekend. Today I woke up after only 3.5 hours of sleep, anxious, sad, missing her. I hate this.

Jan 21, 2017. 11:40am.

I just keep trying to put one foot in front of the other, but life really doesn’t feel real. Nothing can be depended upon. Everything and everyone is transient. There is no such thing as safety or security. They’re both an illusion.

Jan 21, 2017. 12:36pm.

I am wearing a pretty thick blanket of depression and darkness today after a huge improvement yesterday. I feel detached and hopeless again. I don’t want to leave the house, but I have 10 days to finish emptying Diana’s apartment.

I don’t understand these waves/cycles.

Jan 21, 2017. 2:52pm.

I have developed a bit of a routine of talking/crying with Diana in the shower each day. Had about 20 minutes of that just now. I notice a difference in how I feel afterward each time I do this. Definitely less heavy and less disconnected from reality, even if only for a time.

Jan 22, 2017. 7:55am.

Love, I get so lost sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are

all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes

love, I don’t like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

—Peter Gabriel, as sung by Sara Bareilles

Jan 22, 2017. 8:05am.

and did i tell you how i stopped eating,
when you stopped calling me?
and i was cramped up,
shitting rivers for weeks.

Jan 22, 2017. 11:31am.

It’s still so hard to see the world keep turning, to keep seeing the marches and the political banter, to keep seeing people post a bunch of what seems like nonsense.

I just want to scream and ask people if they realize she’s dead. If they realize nothing makes sense. If they realize that I feel like I’m dying too.

And then I realize that, for the most part, they don’t. Life goes on. This is all too much and too surreal.

Jan 22, 2017. 6:50pm.

Seeing Zoë Lewis for you (or perhaps with you), my love, Diana. I know you would want me to see her, just like we did, not that long ago.

Already started crying. I love you and miss you so much.

Jan 22, 2017. 10:12pm.

I literally want to beg her to come back. Please please please, baby. Please.

Medium – Session 1, 1/21/17

Had my first session with a medium/channeler. Really don’t know what to think, so I’ll list out what I heard and some of my reactions to what I heard.

Some of the things she said were absolutely spot-on, while other things seemed very general.

She definitely used a lot of the language that Diana would have used – many of the same words that were in her suicide letter came through. She didn’t blame me at all for her death, said I was completely not responsible, that she had thought about this for a very long time, and attempted suicide before (this is true, but is still sort of a general theme with those who die by suicide). She talked about how suicide is courageous, not cowardly (I started watching Cloud Atlas last night, and almost that exact same line is in the film).

She picked up on both of us being artists, being colorful (though that could have been found online), and mentioned glitter (queer AF).  She said that Diana and I had lived many lives together, which is why we were so familiar with one another and were often able to read one another’s thoughts/feelings.

She also spoke to the power of the ocean, which is the only ‘higher power’ I have ever looked to. She also talked about bruising versus scarring (which is complex and associated with kink, and something Diana and I talked about, too).

She said Diana was incredibly gifted with words, very poetic, strong command of language (so freaking true), extremely tender-hearted, incredibly wise.

During the channeling, Diana said that she is always blown away by how I am able to manifest what I hope for/dream up, and that I need to keep doing that, because I’m a “bad ass.” This is language she would have used.

In terms of future relationships, she said “hell yeah” (also very Diana), that I should seek love again, and that I should find it over and over and over.

The most powerful part is when she channeled Diana in regards to feeling everything around her in a super intense way (in part because of being on the spectrum) — which made it damn near impossible to exist most days. She talked about how seeing things going on in the world was often all-consuming. Diana and I talked a *lot* about this, and she had even stopped sharing a lot of bad news on social media because she realized it was wrecking her.

Still have all kinds of mixed feelings and thoughts. She sent me the recording, and I feel like I need to transcribe it to fully wrap my head around it.