An Attitude of Gratitude

This is going to be a blog of gratitude for my sisters, cisgender and transgender alike. I am humbled by the genuine care and concern that my sisters have shown me in what has quickly proved to be the most traumatic event of my life. I won't go into detail just yet about the trauma because it is now a legal matter since I decided to speak up. Nonetheless, where I have felt weak and broken, my sisters have been the strength and glue and voice of reason to keep me together. By the collaborative work of such caring women such as Thelma Luckett, Naina Khanna, Andrea Zekis, Channing-Celeste Wayne, Krista Martel, Najiba Moyer, Ashli Hunter, Octavia Lewis, MPA, Bre Campbell and Milan-Nicole Sherry. When each of these women listened to me and told me they would support my decision to fight or not, verily, I say unto all of you that I believed them. There was and continues to be a true connection with all of these amazing and phenomenal women. Their words resonated in the deepest recesses of my soul which I don't recall ever happening before. I, in no way, am doubting the love so many of my sisters have for me and have shown me. I also am not negating the fact that people have interacted with me due to having a personal motive for doing so. These are merely facts, not opinion. It's different with these women because they all held onto what I shared with them, and I didn't receive any phone calls from people I hadn't told. They made my issue their issue, supported my decision, didn't judge me and continue to uplift me. That is special and speaks to me of the integrity in each of these women. Mama, Naina, Andrea, Channing-Celeste, Krista, Najiba, Ashli, Octavia, Bre and Milan…I thank you!!

At any moment over the last 18 days, whenever I reached out to any of them, they made themselves available. Moreover, these compassionate and empathetic women reached out to me to let me know that I am loved. Truly, they are the reasons as to why I have been able to move about my days these past almost three weeks. I now have a name to what is going on with me. It's called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My body is doing things that my mind has no control over several times during the day. My mind wanders to that night even when I feel completely safe. I don't want to be touched but need to be held by my boyfriend who is doing his best to be supportive. It angers him to know that he can only be support for me. He can't fix me. I'm working on getting back to me so that I can be the best me for him, yet I have had to admit that I am not physically, mentally or emotionally able to resolve this all on my own. I need help, so that is what I am doing. I am talking with a counselor who has set up an appointment for me with a psychiatrist. I don't feel ashamed about any of this because this is the best course of action for me. There is strength in admitting where one is weak and actually working with a professional to repair the damage that has been done. It is not something I have ever done, and those who know me will not understand why I am doing it. I know why. I'm the one feeling it.

I know that all of this is far from over, but I'm holding onto the hope that I will become strong enough to see it all the way through. Right now, it's a struggle to go about my daily life with just the simple, mundane and ordinary things. I catch myself telling myself, "That's not what you were supposed to do." "What are you doing?" "You can do this!" It's at those moments where I take a deep breath and think my way through each action. In case I don't say it enough, I want it to be known that I love you women!! I've never stated this proclamation without meaning it.