"be careful with each other so we can be dangerous together"

i'm writing to you from my office, listening to 'a case of you' by joni mitchell and trying not to cry. as a chronic oversharer and certifiable open book, it's difficult for me to connect with y'all this month. a lot has happened in my personal life and there's so much i can't say. rest assured, i am safe. i am exhausted and sort of dazed. i have support, i just have to remember to utilize it. i'm always trying to help the helpers instead of just accepting their help.

over this past week or so, i've learned that i'm capable of so much more than i previously thought. i have a road ahead of me, but i think the most difficult part is over. right now, i'm attending to my most basic needs: water, food, sleep, time in nature, journaling. i'm not sure when i'll be able to work again, but i'm trying not to worry about it. i have a tendency to get stuck in a cycle of work and burnout. i get carried away with all the ideas i want to actuate, and before i know it i'm frazzled, socially isolated and crashing- then i give myself the minimal amount of rest before repeating. but work doesn't mean shit. health and safety come first, the connections we have with the people we love supersede work. hold your loved ones tight if you're able. check on your friends. ask to be checked on if you need to. offer service within your capacity, especially to the black folks in your life right now.

my mantras right now are:
slow down. one thing at a time. you can't pour from an empty cup.

i am trying to get well and manage my stress levels so that i can be strong for the ones that i love, because it's imperative. we need to take care of each other, and that's not always a 50-50 thing. i am thinking about what my old therapist said about saying 'no' in the service of 'yes;' how we can better show up to the causes or opportunities that will be truly fulfilling or bring us great joy when we aren't stretched to the brink from saying 'yes' to every little ask. i'm thinking about what's truly important, and what inconsequential things i allow to weigh on me. i am thinking about how to be more present, less preoccupied. i am thinking about "the body keeps the score," both the audiobook that i never finished listening to, and the concept in and of itself- the measurable, physical toll that trauma and stress take on our bodies. i've been thinking about how completely unmanageable my circumstances seemed at the beginning of this week, and how much worse off folks who are more marginalized than me would be in the same situation.

i'm thinking about all the privileges i'm afforded because i'm white, because i have a safety net. how a person of color in my situation could easily end up on the street, or worse. how generational poverty, overpolicing and institutional racism get black folks murdered with impunity. how the intersection of racism and transphobia (itself an intersection of sexism and homophobia) make it so that a black trans woman can be brutally murdered in a neighboring city to one of my woke white cis friends, and it's not even on his radar. how none of us will be free until we're all free. how the timing of these reignited black lives matter protests coincide directly with pride month, a celebration born out of queer and trans women of color refusing to stand by and accept being continually assaulted by police. 

but my mind is also aflutter with gratitude for the folks who showed up for me in my time of emergency. gratitude, joy and humor are crucial to hold onto while we take on these grave societal injustices. even though i'm feeling guilty about needing extra help in a time when i feel it is my responsibility to be of service to others, i'm acknowledging that i have to take care of myself, and let other people take care of me, so that i can gather my strength to be of service for the long haul. i'm counting my tiny victories, and i want to share a few of them with you, even though they feel inconsequential with everything else going on.

this month marks the one year anniversary of my decision to get sober from alcohol.
june also marks 6 months tobacco-free for me.
i've made my little pocket guide to pride: a stonewall primer available to read for free.
there's an update on my website you can read about what's going on with me, with more practical info.
i finally bought a pdf editor so that i can start digitizing all my zines for a future patreon archive.
i've been eating from my garden.

til next time, i'll be reflecting on all the vital mutual aid structures that this wonderfully gay little city currently has in place, and dreaming about larger-scale possibilities for meeting people's basic needs, practicing restorative justice, facilitating community care, and making sure no one is left behind. and, y'know, remembering to eat and take deep breaths.

<3,
alyssa