APRIL 26, 2011. there was a riot on the streets, tell me where were you???

there's nothing not to love about me!

it has taken me years and years to appreciate this fact. but it doesn't make it any less true. and whether i contend against a god, a parent, a sibling, a friend, or a coworker: if any person that matters to me does not understand and appreciate the level of awesome that i -in fact- am, then FUCK EM.

april 26.... i fucking did it. i'm so close to grasping this impossible dream in my own grip. it's beyond words, beyond poetry, maybe even beyond music.

semester I.
david, jose, kristin, nay, julie, cory, lindsay, sylvie, a few others...
i fought to get there, and then i failed and stayed behind.

106 pounds crying in the office of every professor, terrified of what my sexuality might be, what this meant for my husband.

squinting in the light as a pioneer of feminist psychology, the embodiment of everything i'd ever been taught to fear and to hate, begged me to move my seat so the light from the sun didn't blind my eyes and asked me if i engage in self-mutilation based on the way i saw myself, hated myself.

cut off from my parents, my soulmate, my best friend, clinging to new people at a new job. her.

semester off.

political philosophy, yoga. weed and benzos. gym and weights. music. discovery.
him...

prop 8, milk, prayers for bobby, gender identity, keeping it real. work. love. lies.
vic.

summer. tan. alone. nika. tears. fears. terror.

danny. drugs. hurts me. pure hate glares in my face and i laugh and make a wish, like a child reaching a trusting hand to a parent...
slammed into the floor, gasping, why, why, why...

merry saved me. pulled me out. into a safe bed, into a home with food and shelter.

semester I.
torie, angie, chris, ricky, emily, jen, vanessa, rachel, me...
assessment with poorni
gender ethniciy with elena
theory with glenn
diagnostics with jen

hooked on powders and pills and pain. struggling, hurting, holidays.

semester II. homeless
cold in my car, shivering in a sleeping bag.

hood. hard. i don't give a fuck.

psychopharm with glenn
research methods with poorni
clinic with annabel
child psych with heiden

testing drunk at angies
COMP!!!!!!

passed both when told i'd fail.

quit addictions, but lost my soul. it went missing when i wandered the street...
dean. amanda. vic. auntie.

summer of debauchery.
passed all my classes, moved in with jen.
job went awol. to grieve the loss of all my new friends, or to drink the pain away?

met the first years. of course.

semester III.

clinic
change the life of my first client.
ethics
family therapy
fieldwork
internship with george.

VICKI.

BROKEN ANKLE.

:(

chris. shame. crutches. BRI. jen. kim. grant. donna. kiko.

move forward anyway. or hobble.

move downtown. fucking meat curtains.

old habits die hard. escape, avoid.

holidays.

family.
shannon, dean, jen, grant, kitty.

birthday...

practice comp.

AT LEAST I'M NOT A FUCKING CUNT.

marisol, lisa....

MY CLIENTS.

semester IV

fieldwork
sex drugs, rock n roll
modern family
internship

meeting, embracing, conquering demons.
panic attacks.

making a difference.
losing.

feeling alone.
feeling loved

ER.

kim. grant. jen. shannon. kitty. art. angie. vicki. george. marisol. lisa. dean. nay. adriana. rikki. chris. gwen. overflowing cup.

pressure, comp, OMG.

writing is your gift.
-sancho

i did it....

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

imma make it by any means, got a pocket full of dreams, baby i'm from the bay...

and the pressing question?

now what?

just another day, livin in the hood, really. who can say, who can know? this futon is pretty fucking uncomfortable, but this room is warmer than my car, and freer than my marriage bed. heh.

this blog goes out to all my haters. FUCK YOU. (:

winning.

BITCH.