I lost my house back in March. Since then, I've been staying at a friend's place not far from my old house. I have a stuffed shar pei named Dusty who keeps me company. My time here is just about up, and I have to be out by May 1st. This leaves me with few options. The most promising one, is that my local LGBT clinic is helping to get me into a women's shelter. If that doesn't pan out, then I'll be living in my car and/or on the streets.
As we all know, as horrible as homelessness is, being homeless and trans is way worse. I can still cook where I'm staying, so eating rice and beans is cheap.
I've also been eating out of the trash can at the local vegan pizza place. This is so embarrassing. I've befriended a lot of the people who work there. They know how poor I am. Sometimes they give me food. Still, I hate doing this. I hate being seen doing this. I walk in and try not to make eye contact with anybody as I do this. "La la la, I'm just some cute transsexual eating out of the trash can." It sucks.
Oh yeah. I'm also often heckled on the way there for being trans.
As I said, my time here at my friend's house is just about up. It's scary here. The neighborhood is crummy, the house smells like cigarettes, and the windows don't lock. My friend's roommate usually goes to bed early to get up early for work, so I have to be quiet most of the time. I've barely been able to play music since being here. And certainly not through an amplifier.
I had one hell of a run. Three years of no job and no responsibilities. Most days, I would wake up whenever the hell I felt like, eat breakfast, get high, go skate, eat, skate more, come home, get high again, and rock out in the basement until ten or so. Then I would run around the house like a maniac, listening to loud music as late as I felt like, or play Nintendo, also as late as I felt like. I had a full music studio in my basement -- a finished basement with ceramic tiles and fake wood paneling. I had two guitar amps, a bass amp, a keyboard amp, a PA, a drum kit, microphones, and a computer to record on. I got to practice for hours and hours a day. I got really good at playing my songs, and it showed when I played live. For three years, I was able to do whatever the f--- I wanted, whenever I wanted, with nobody to tell me not to. I didn't have money for things, really, but I had a good house and could eat well. It was awesome.
Once I spontaneously drove to Woodstock, NY. I slept in my car at a rest stop. I spent the next day exploring the town. Another time, some friends and I played a show out in Ohio. That was a lot of fun. We also played one down in Baltimore.
I really got to explore my sexuality. I discovered and accepted my trans identity, with the help of some wonderful girl-friends. I explored a particular long-coveted kink with a couple of girlfriends. Being able to run around the house naked was great. Having two girls in my bed at the same time, was awesome. Being able to blast music at 2 AM was great. Being able to step outside and skate was great. (I still have that one, but my heel's in bad shape these days.) Decorating my house however I wanted, was great! And I invited my friends to do it, too. My neighbors were awesome. They totally put up with my bull->-bleeped-<- and accepted me as a person, even when I came out as trans. I was really popular on my block.
Now I'm here. I have a small bedroom with a small bed. I have my computer in a scary basement. But in ten days, I won't have any of this.
I'm scared. I feel lonely and afraid. I can't go back to my parents' house for the same reasons most trans people can't. It was also a bad place before I started transitioning. My stepdad has made my life hard since I was little. My mom battles chronic sadness and depression. They live a million miles from anything. I can't get the health care I need out there. I have no friends out there. I have no life out there. And if I lived there again, I'd never get out.
So if I can't get into this women's shelter, I'll probably be living in my car, as long as that lasts.