POC Anti-racist organizing and burnout

Can POC organizers keep a sound mind and longevity in a career committed to anti-racism and anti-oppression? I've seen a lot of POC burn out and it leads to this reflection...

Co-signing for White folks

What this means is that you as a POC organizer are giving the go ahead for other POC organizers or organizations to work with white “anti-racist” organizers. Sometimes this is fine. Other times this may come back to haunt you because the “work” that the white anti-racist organizers/organization have said they have done around privilege and anti-oppression is not complete thereby leading to additional oppression. Many POC are wary of working with white anti-racists because, to put this bluntly, there is a sense of mastery that just doesn't exist. There's a lot of empty rhetoric, good intentions, and horrible actions under the guise of being educated as an anti-racist.

Whose Anti-Racism is it anyway?

And just what does it mean to be anti-racist anyway? Does it mean you are against racism from other folks but don't check your own racism? Does it mean you are an ally who checks your own privilege and supports POC? What does support mean to you? Does it simply mean saying your best friend or colleague is black/brown and you don't say racist things outside the comfort of your own home? Does it mean you are actually trying to create more space for POC and build with POC? Does it mean you are trying to tackle the institution of racism in a substantial way- other than attending one or two anti-racist trainings and thinking you know it all?

From what I've witnessed, groups and organizations that claim to be committed to anti-racist organizing are predominantly white and miss the mark completely. They commit grave errors in taking up too much space, saying that racism doesn't exist within their space, or denying anything can be done about POC members feeling unsafe in the space. I've seen POC blamed for being uncomfortable. I've seen POC called reverse racists when they try to point to racism that exists in these “anti-racist” spaces. I have seen white privilege rear it's head time and time again in POC being silenced during committees and councils, not getting to form their own committees to promote POC involvement, POC not being taken seriously, POC issues not being confronted, and POC being blamed for the lack of POC presence.

When POC try to speak out about all this suddenly they are a voice of dissonance. They are said to be divisive. When they leave the group/committee/council it is because they “weren't cut out for the committee” or because they were “reverse racists”, were “too angry” or “couldn't handle it”. Every explanation points to how deficient they were or how they were too hostile for the organization or committee. This is racist. It goes back to historical views on POC's “place” in this society. It's not our “place” to speak up and when we do it's just because we're angry and there can't possibly be any credibility to what we say. What we say is always to be questioned and disregarded.

Tokenism and being the "educator"

On top of feeling silenced or unheard in these organizations or groups, POC are tokenized or expected to educate on all that I've mentioned and it is seen negatively when they don't want to do the work for the white folks. No one in the group notices how much of a burden this is on POC...or how racist these expectations are. Yes, expecting brown people to tell you how to be better and then getting angry when they won't is racist and tied to a history of white folks building empires off the backs of brown folks. Think about it. Let it marinate. It's racist to think that a POC should be there to hold your hand through the processing of all this and expect them not to say a word as you lash out, say it doesn't exist, blame POC, and expect sympathy as if it is owed to you. I have seen this time and time again in anti-racist workshops. POC will flock to the white participants and try to comfort and console them as they realize the harm caused by white privilege. Yea, I know that there's a such thing as compassion...my problem is with the expectation of some white folks to be coddled and walked through it....supported.

This leads me to talking about the lack of trust and disrespect POC have to deal with among their own community for being committed to anti-racism and co-signing for people who have not done the work on themselves and for the harm they continue to do to POC. It's really unfortunate but I get it. And when POC organizations are wary and apprehensive to work with you ...you should get it to. It's not because THEY'RE racist...it's because YOU ARE.

Please dont....

Please don't reach out to POC organizations to do the work of unpacking your privilege and understanding racism. Please don't ask POC to be part of your committees, organizations, and coalitions until you've done this work. (I would say until you've “made a commitment to do this work” but...isn't that the point of having the “anti-racist” label that so many tout?) Making a commitment isn't enough. It just isn't. The work is hard...the work is continuous and never,ever done. It hurts to hear that though you've done the work, that you're still taking up too much space or asserting your white privilege...but...you should be open to this constructive criticism if you are as committed to anti-racist work as you say you are.

You've got to do the work on your own and get back to us (POC) once you've begun healing yourselves and  are ready to actually support our communities. No more lip service, please. No more tokenism. No more blaming us for your superiority complexes, and such. White supremacy is endemic to this society and thankfully it is crumbling. Will you continue to feed into it while cloaked behind the “anti-racist” banner? It is important that both white and POC anti-racist organizers turn a critical eye toward themselves, address internalized racism, superiority and inferiority complexes, and once healed join to dismantle this institution of racism.

Who I am and Who I am not

I'll tell you first who I'm not. I'm not "just another angry POC". I'm not irate but I AM firm in my convictions and it is upsetting to be at square 1 half a century after the civil rights movement. The truth is that the movement is still happening. We are living and breathing it.

I am a person committed to diversity and inclusion, anti-oppression, cultural competence and civil rights and I'm not going to give up. No matter how arduous. There are so many civil rights leaders who had to endure so much more. Our foremothers and forefathers have had to endure so much more. I will carry the torch but I will not be taken advantage of. I have my eyes wide open and I'm not afraid to call what I see. No change will come if we don't.

Thoughts from a QPOC going into 2012

It's 2012 and I've been reflecting for a few days on my identity and activism. Being home for the holidays I've been forced to remember that I am a daughter, sister, and niece in the eyes of at least 48 of the 50 people who crowded my aunt's home to eat and reminisce. All of these folks don't know how hard I fought to come to terms with my identity for the past few years.  Yet, for once, I didn't withdraw from conversations or hide in the back room. I wore my tie and suspenders after a little anxiety about what older family members would think. I prepared myself for the silence around my personal life. I prepared myself for the pronouns and name I haven't been called by in a while.

A 7 year old boy cousin took to me instantly thinking that I was cis-male...his step sister called him out on his error in a jarring scene. "Toi...aren't you a girl? See. She's a girl!" What an awkward moment that was. I went upstairs defeated...not really knowing what could be going through his mind. A couple hours later...we were back to hanging out again. While playing basketball he told me , "I keep forgetting you're a girl." I consoled him, "It's ok. Not many people think of me that way anyway. And I prefer it that way."

In my family, I guess we don't really ask questions. We keep our assumptions to ourselves. (At least in front of your face). I bet they think I'm gay or some kind of tomboy. Nobody comments on it...or asks me if I have a girlfriend or boyfriend. (Though most of them know I've had girlfriends). As a matter of fact, no one asks anyone about who they're with. Maybe we just want to get through the holidays as smoothly as possible. Who knows. I do know that I was ready to do battle if anyone made a trans or homophobic comment. I had heard a couple jokes a few days before and was ready to confront whoever I had to. It didn't happen. I missed the opportunity to have dialog.

Sometimes I feel so torn about opening up to my family about my identity. Part of me feels like I just want to live my life away from the added scrutiny of family members.  Now that I'm back in the South, I deal with it enough on a day to day basis. But deep down I want them to accept me...want them to accept that there are others out there like me. I want to be able to talk about who I'm dating or have dated with them. I want to be able to talk about my queer activism with them, since it's such a big part of my life.  While I know I probably can't go spouting queer theory, it'd just be nice to actually be able to talk about things that are important to me.

So with TPOC activism

 I have found it hard to get people to contribute to this chapter on race and ethnicity in this trans resource guide. I want it to represent the TPOC community but we're barely getting any submissions. I suspect that it's because our project is mostly organized by white folks. The title also uses the name "Trans"- forcing people to identify as Trans which a lot of QPOC don't do. Not everyone wants to be under that umbrella term.
I've also found it hard to get in contact with QPOC organizations to get support. They probably don't trust the project, are too busy to worry about it, or who knows what else. I want this chapter to come from our community and speak to our community. I want this chapter to expose what is happening in the larger LGBT community. It's been slow going. I bet it would be different if I was doing a zine and the majority of the writers were POC.

Some have asked me why I keep going with this project...and it's simple really. Who else if not me? I have invested so much time and effort and I really believe in this. So, I'll continue with it to the best of my ability. I just wish we had more support...wish the people behind this project were more committed to building with POC organizations and reaching out to TPOC. But maybe that's a separate project. It's just so frustrating, though, to see a project with such potential that is supposed to be a resource guide for EVERYONE become so narrow and representative of such a few in the community. It just goes to show that our intentions are not enough. They are never enough. It takes work ....and a real committment to inclusiveness.

The last few years of my work have been dedicated to figuring out how to promote diversity and inclusion in different settings. Hospitals, academic institutions, groups and organizations....And the work isn't easy. We just had the civil rights movement 50 years ago. So much of this world...these systems....our thought, operate on the belief of the inferiority of others. So many times during the Occupy movement (and way before this) activists and organizers have urged us to decolonize our minds. They're right. This whole idea of inequality and superiority complexes comes from the mentality of the colonizer. Colonialism. This whole idea of "Integration" or "Inclusiveness" is impossible without acknowledging deeper, systemic issues AND our mindset. The value system of this country is deeply flawed. How can we pull our self up by our bootstraps with the man's foot on our neck? We have to address racism, classism, sexism, homo and transphobia and all other forms of hate and discrimination before we can create a better society. Many don't want change because they profit from those whose necks their foot is on...others don't have time to think about change because they are trying to survive. With the economy in the state that it's in...change is coming whether we like it or not. It's better to be proactive than reactive, as they always say. We have to come together and support each other while valuing each other's differences. In this day and age- the rhetoric of being "equal" is not enough. All I hear is that we "should" be able to be equal. Should doesn't mean anything to me right now. There is so much in place to keep the poor, poor which informs every other aspect of their life -education, housing, health care. I just don't believe in the American sense of equality anymore...especially if based on "meritocracy". No one deserves to be poor or discriminated against...or to die because they don't have housing or health care.

So much to think about as we start off a New Year. I am still committed to anti-oppression and making institutions and organizations more inclusive for the betterment of society. And also creating dialogue across differences to build healthier and more supportive communities.

Low cost healthcare tips for the Uninsured

So I started writing for Examiner.com as a Healthy Living Examiner. It allows me to rant, talk about local clinics and hospitals....herbalists and acupuncturists....meditation and ayurveda. Yea, just about whatever. So, if you'd like to take a gander at my first article...please do:

http://www.examiner.com/healthy-living-in-austin/low-cost-healthcare-tips-for-austin-s-uninsured

The article is a self-advocacy article. It talks about using available resources, low cost clinics, low cost dental and vision, prescription assistance and low cost holistic health. I'm excited to be able to share this valuable information. (And not all of it is just for locals!)

I will try to keep everything relevant and useful.

That is all.

Trans Rites of Passage

I've been thinking about this topic quite a lot lately. For many cultures this is a defining point - a transition from one status to another. Many times it's a transition from childhood to adulthood and full inclusion into a social group. One of the first men to write about this (Arnold van Gennep) proposed that there were three phases: separation (pre-liminal), transition (liminal or threshold), and reincorporation (postliminal). I remember how fascinated my anthropology professor was when we got to this part of Cultural Anthropology...eyes all a-bulge. Flailing his arms talking about rituals and ceremonies marking this transition from a previous world into a new world. Immediately I think about similar traditions here in the U.S. such as bar and bat mitzvahs, rumspringa, vision quests, quiceaneras and sweet sixteens. It's such a special (and sometimes especially annoying) time. It's so awkward and painful and sometimes the "honorees" don't want to make a big deal of it. Some families even go into debt because of these events.

And then I think about what the equivalent of this would be in the queer or LGBT community. Our "coming out" is rarely similar to the debutante balls of the same name. The rite of passage is usually something we come to terms with within our self- and then start to tell others. Maybe it's joining a group on campus or in the community that is specifically LGBT. Maybe it's telling family members or close friends. When we come out that closet we are separating ourselves from the straight/heterosexual world we may have once thought was the only world that existed and transitioning through self-education or support from loved ones or our created family and then, re-incorporating ourselves back into society with this new-found sense of self.

Now lets think about the trans and gender non-conforming equivalent. Sometimes it's similar to above and other times it involves physiological changes. Sometimes we modify our bodies in order to feel whole; now matching our bodies to how we've seen ourselves. Other times it's not about physically transitioning and it may be changing our names on a birth certificate or other types of identification or telling our co-workers and family members to call us by the proper pronoun. Sometimes it may be about forming alliances with others like ourselves and organizing for our community or none of the above.

This society at times places so much weight on gendered coming of age events. But where is the bar mitzvah for the trans boy? Where is the quinceanera for the trans girl? And for those of us who came out much later...where is our "coming of gender" (not age) event? Hmm hope it's not the parties we have to throw to fundraise for our transitions.

I wish that more of us supported each other in coming out. I know that a lot of us don't have much money or are unemployed because of our gender, so this makes this much harder. I wish there was a trans fairy who would leave us a card under our pillow once we've decided to come out. Or maybe an organization or group that would write to us personally congratulating and welcoming us. It's such a tough, tough decision.

Perhaps if we had more support there'd be less transgender folks committing suicide. We can't all move to NYC or the Bay...a lot of people in rural areas are feeling really alone. Some are rewarded with beatings or being kicked out of the house when they have their realization about being gender non-conforming. A far cry from parties and debutante balls.

Being torn from our families, ostracized in schools, and then disappearing to re-acclimate into this heteronormative society (and sometimes even hostile LGB and queer communities) is a very common experience.

As trans and gender non-conforming people of color, our networks are much smaller and we have much less support from families and our own communities and the LGBT community at large. We face more violence and more disparities in education, housing, and in health care. Sometimes our families ask us why the heck we didn't decide to stay in the closet. Why did we "choose" to be trans when we were already at such a disadvantage because of our color? And that is our rite of passage experience. More close to those of tribes in other continents than to fellow Americans. Some of us stumble through the wilderness in search of ourselves with no guide...no mentors...no support. Some of us scar up our bodies to deal with pain and remind ourselves. And then some of us have the privilege not to go through any of this.I don't know many trans folks that haven't experienced some form of discrimination and I probably know even fewer who had a party thrown in honor of discovering themselves.

I am so glad that there are more trans and trans people of color conferences and organizations that are allowing more of us to come together for education and support. Maybe in the future these conferences and events will be a rite of passage...like attending the gay pride parade with less glitter and more clothes.

Genderqueer Job Applicants or Cross Dressing for a Career

Folks, today I am 2 steps closer to a respectable career doing something that will pay some bills, somewhere. I, Toi, after months of looking for jobs across the nation- ok, in three or four states... have now advanced my job applicant status and possibly furthered myself to a third interview by...

get this...

purchasing a suit. And not just any suit my friends. This suit was purchased...
in the women's department of JCPenney by a beneficent benefactor who told me in not so many words that it would lead to actual success during my interviews. And I don't doubt it. Recruiters (in the South,especially) want to see you match your clothes to your proposed gender. Psshh...I'm not into "matchy matchy."

My mother and two aunts have asked me in the last month...what do you wear to your interviews? Well, a nice pair of (men's) pants, a (men's) dress shirt...(and sometimes a tie). Oh! And my natural hair, suitably tamed for their viewing pleasure. (Wouldn't want to be too "ethnic").
No...no...no...apparently this is all wrong if I want to actually support myself this lifetime. I've got to fool them my mother implied. She said...just wear this to the interview and who cares what I wear after I get hired. Hmm...Granted, this has definitely worked for me before- though I didn't exactly plan it that way. In corporate america I just got so tired of wearing these femme clothes because that's what was designated in the "girl's dress code". I started to feel really weird wearing these feminine clothes for 8-10 hours and then coming home only to rip them off and throw on basketball shorts and a muscle tee. (flexes, grin) Yea. That's what I said.

So ...there I was in the ladies section of JC Penney...not "doing it right". (Is that even still there slogan? anyway...) . I felt mad weird. My mother says..."What size are you?" I give her a "No you didn't" look...and she assumed somewhere between a 6 and 8. Actually she said my butt was probably an 8...(blank stare). Soooo I grab the first andro-looking 6 that I saw after wading through some truly horrifying women-ly outfits designed for some stuffed-shirt dinner party and made a dash for the dressing room praying that this thing would a)not make me look too feminine and b) fit, so we could get the heck out of dodge.

So, there I am standing in the dressing room with my corn rows and nicely flattened chest under my undershirt and some men's boxer briefs...slinking into this women's business suit and delicately zipping with this ridiculously small zipper on the side of the pants. And my mind drifts off to that Office episode where the manager is wearing a lady's business suit. Yes, that's one of my favorite episodes. And then there I am...it fit. I was elated. My flat chest was accentuated by the ridiculous women's cut they put on the chest of these suits to ...lift the breasts? Show 'em off? I have no idea. It did a bad job.

So I saunter out to my mother who is waiting to assess...and she says it looks good...and says it's not too "girly". I look straight at my flattened chest and say "yea...well I don't like that women's suits have this cut right here to accentuate the boobs I don't have." My mom shrugs...I go back in the dressing room to strip out of this clown suit that is going to be my ticket to some career somewhere...and juuuuuuuuuust as I'm snapping a picture in this outfit to send to my boo thang...*trying to look as masculine as possible *ahem*... my mother comes with another friggin women's suit that I have to try on for some person  I'll be sitting down with at some point who can't accept my gender expression. Great. So, I try it on...pants are too baggy...blahblah we buy the other pin striped andro-ish suit which makes me look like a negative AAA cup. Yea. That's not going to draw attention at all...

So, fellow andro and genderqueer folks...I'm going to say that it's imperative for us to start making some andro suits with neither a male or female cut.  I got close today but I'm afraid the chest area is a fail. Sigh. In my head I'm picturing the perfect vest and slacks and I'm looking so dapper accepting my next job.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm super appreciative of my mother's support. She's only telling me like it is. Basically, that these southerners don't want anyone who looks odd or queer gracing their halls if they can help it. Yeah, I know that it's not just the south...

And now I'm sitting here thinking that even if some of the LGB constituents of the employment discrimination policy (ENDA) hadn't thrown us gender non-conformists under the bus not too long ago, that recruiters would have still been able to discriminate by not letting us through to the next interview. Who can prove that you weren't hired because of what you're wearing (and even if you could, would they agree that it should be legal to discriminate based on an outfit?) Who can prove that it was your gender expression that kept you from being hired or promoted? It's all "conjecture". But even my mom knows that it's a factor in me not finding employment and a facilitator to me going to some job some place and being hired by someone.

Sigh. I know that some of you are thinking... well of course you've got to dress differently to get a job, we all do. But, I want to stress that I am having to cross dress. It's not that I want to wear sweats or booty shorts (see *Awkward Black Girl). I want to express my gender in the way that I feel comfortable and I'm not able to. Me wearing a woman's suit is certainly going to make me feel a tad uncomfortable during my interview. Shake it off, you say. But you men out there...how would you feel doing an interview in panty hose and lipstick and maybe a nice little skirt suit? Yea, awkward. I know that there are so many trans and gender non-conforming folks out there at their jobs feeling really,really awkward because they are not able to express their true gender. It can really make someone feel helpless and defeated. A lot of us accept jobs where we can feel comfortable but don't get paid nearly what we're worth and others of us can't get a job at all because they can't "pass" as their true gender or fall somewhere in between. I just want people to realize that this happens frequently and urge people not to be so harsh in their judgment against trans folks who want to get surgery and "pass". We just want to be who we are...this policing of our gender has to stop in all arenas.

 NO!!

Yezzzir!

(UN)Queer for the Holidays

Well, if you're anything like me, going back to your old neighborhood or even merely hanging out with your family could be like going back in time. Sometimes I feel like just crossing the border into my hometown melts away a decade of identity processing. I have to admit that I feel severely repressed every time I come home. And it isn't just the feeling of being 16 all over again. It's years of finally expressing myself in the ways that I am comfortable with and then coming back to a place that hasn't been a witness to any of that. It's also coming back to legal names and pronouns that I finally got comfortable with discarding. It's being called “ma'am” and being asked if I'm a “tomboy”. It's rigid gender roles and a bible belt that upholds the patriarchy. For all of these reasons, I'm never in a hurry to make it home for the holidays.

You see, I'm the “free spirit”of the family I'm told. I'm the only queer...the only buddhist...the only vegetarian...the only traveler. I'm kind of like a sideshow to some of my family members. It's great to be the entertainment and all- but it leaves me feeling pretty lonely. While everyone can share about their family and whatever heteronormative ideals they fit right into...I find that people always refer to my partners as “friend.” Yep, even the girl I was with for 4 years. I've never felt comfortable sitting around when everyone is laughing about their weddings and engagements and babies- when I don't really fit into any of that. I've felt a lot of the time that people just didn't want to know anyway. It's better left unsaid at the dinner table. I also have such a huge family that I'd probably have to be constantly coming out at every function, which is really tiring. And I've decided that only a handful of my family can handle actual labels for my gender expression.

So where does that leave me?

Silent. Repressed. Awkward. Every single holiday. Sure we can dwell in the past, but the present minus queerness leaves me with about 10 minutes worth of material. My school (minus my activities), My hobbies (minus my organizing), my writing (minus a major project). Sometimes this bothers me and other times it doesn't. I realize that I'm really different in many ways than the rest of my family. I realize that people in my family uses homophobic slurs and I've seen transphobic comments on facebook...I realize that my causes are not theirs. But I hope, that despite all this that some day my partner can sit down at the table and not be called my “friend”. I hope that more people will accept that my gender expression is what it is. I hope that some day soon, we will have dialogue about queerness and how it has shaped me and why I do the organizing that I do. I hope that my queerness will not have to take a back seat while my straight cousins and their family get the front row. I want my relationships to garner the same respect even though they don't come in the same package. I probably won't get married- that doesn't mean I'm any less committed. I probably won't have kids, that doesn't mean my relationship is any less complete.

As I think about the difficulties I'm having I try to take into account the intersections of my identity. So many conflicts surface with the intersection of being black and queer. Especially since I'm from the south. Down south, many black folks are religious and being queer is not accepted...at all. Being queer is a sign of weakness (and most times a sin) and is a hardship that you place upon yourself in addition to you being marginalized as a person of color. Black folks want to know why you would choose this. Some black folks think this is a “white people” thing. Gay black men are forced to be on the “down low” because they fear for their safety. Many lesbians are disowned or their gender expression or sexuality is not taken seriously. And trans folks? Forget about it! This is the most vehemently opposed (and oppressed) group. African-American trans folks receive the most violence from their families, within their communities, and from law enforcement. So this is what I'm working with as I grapple with opening up dialog with my family. Most of them identify as christian and I've heard the majority of them use the phrase “fag” at some point in the last 10 years. I feel like this is an east coast thing. (My family is mostly from the east coast and some settled here in the South). I can't help but be apprehensive in speaking to them about all of this. All I really want...is to not be (un)queer for the holidays. In addition to people “accepting me for who I am” I'd like to be able to talk about who I am and what I'm about. And I'm sure that my family will welcome my partner and be as nice as can be...but I hope that in the future they will be accepted as a family member and not just as my "friend".  I hope this isn't too much to ask... I know it isn't.

Prednisone (a corticosteroid) and Dating

Prednisone and Dating

It took me a month or two to start the corticosteroid prescribed to me by my hard-of-hearing rheumatologist. I was terrified of the physiological changes that would happen but even more terrified at the sound of urgency in everyone's voice when I told them that I had not started the drug yet. Though everyone acted like it was no big deal...it was a huge deal. My “condition” was worsening. I could barely walk. Sometimes I couldn't put on my shirt or tie my shoes. I ached all over and seriously wanted it all to end. Wished it would end. The pain was so unbearable and indescribable. It defied all language. So...I began the medication at what I was told was not a high dosage. It changed my behavior almost immediately. Some nights I'd feel like I was on speed and I'd dance at midnight for an hour or so non-stop. Sometimes I'd have splitting headaches or my throat would hurt. Sometimes my stomach hurt. I got these raw spots on my tongue. I cried for no apparent reason.

And then I met someone.

Ahhhh! I thought...maybe I shouldn't date anyone right now. I don't know what other side effects there will be. But she was awesome and there we were. I tried to be as honest as possible about the new medication and the way it made me a little weepy. My pain was still around and she ended up steping into the role of caregiver quickly- soaking my feet when I couldn't walk (about 3 weeks into our relationship). Immediately I felt ashamed. She took care of someone else all week long and now here she was caring for me. I have always been so independent. I really, really tried not to get help from anyone after I became sick and to my own detriment a lot of the time. My mentor once told me to stop being so butch. Ha! If she only knew that I was just being a boi. But women do it, too. I feel as if all genders go around not divulging how much pain their in, emotionally, physically, etc.  Especially if they are people of color.

So we continued dating. I was finishing up grad school and was super stressed and still hurting. I couldn't be all that I wished I could for her. I was pulled in so many directions. Sometimes I was irritated. Sad. My parents were in complete denial, only a few family members knew and I felt alone. There were so many ups and downs. I had spent a whole winter with this pain...and was now trying to figure out how to manage it and how to heal and- how not to let it affect love with all of this going on in the background. But with her I felt euphoria. We went to performances, walked around town, watched documentaries and spent whatever time we could with each other. Usually weekends. I can't even explain to you how awesome this woman is. A family-oriented, organizer of so many different causes. When I went into these schpiels about race in academia and in my community, she totally got me and I was in awe.

I thought I was doing a great job juggling my illness, school, and romance through the Spring. The meds made me feel ok and I'd gotten a great homeopath whose remedies were helping me work through all this emotional stuff. I also got a wonderful herbalist whose herbs also helped me physiologically. But- she also told me that my diet was horrible. I was eating good foods- just not for me. Ugh. So I tried to switch my diet, I was stressing out with school...these new meds...but our attraction and interest was still going strong.

Then came the summer. I had a huge transition from east coast to west coast and the meds had started to make me feel irritable and like....stone. It took me weeks to notice this. My emotions...what had happened to them? I was so emotionless. I did not feel like myself at all.  On top of all this I went down on the dosage with a new doctor and began a new anti-malarial drug. I'm fairly certain these drugs brought back my blood disorder and really messed with my level of iron. So I was fatigued a lot...in pain if I biked too much or walked too much. I felt like such a sucky boifriend. I don't think she'd ever dated anyone with limited ability...so this was all new for both of us. I felt it really hard to keep up with her, and at first, she rarely tried to slow down. I began just declining going out with her. Especially if it was an event in the night time where we'd stay out all night. If I don't sleep I can barely move in the morning...Also she never knew that smoke exacerbated the achiness in my joints and I think that my disorder caused me to be overly sensitive to it. It took me a while to figure that out, too.

She became frustrated. I became frustrated. Stupid drug that took away my emotions or made me overly emotional. After a month or 2 I felt like I was inhabiting my body again. More like myself. Less distant. I'm going to say it was the decrease in dosage. Around the fall I started to notice which foods would make my joints hurt more...but I must have also become low in some other mineral or metal because I would crave powdered donuts or kettle corn...what a summer. I suspect that if I'd learned to control my diet more and if I'd kept a better eye out for my emotional shifts that the summer would have gone slightly easier. As I've thought of my diet more and more I've thought about how eating the foods that I wanted to eat was the only control I really had over the summer and fall. Everything felt so up in the air but if I just had a snack or meal that I liked, at least I had that. I guess that might be the main mechanism for eating disorders if you think about it. Not that I think I had one-- I just know that with my life swirling all around me, food choice was something I could most of the time control. Well, until I started running out of money.

But she stuck around through my aches and mood swings. I can't wait until I'm off of this altogether. It's really changed my mind about taking testosterone. I'd known that irritability was a side effect but actually experiencing it- whoa. I miss my raspy, baritone voice though  since I've decreased in dosage :(. But, I suppose that's neither here nor there.

The reason I'm telling this tale is because I want folks to be more aware of what prescription drugs can do to you. I know physician's always say “Possible” side effects but keep an eye out for emotional changes. Listen to your loved ones. I know that there were support groups that probably could have forewarned me and told me of techniques they used. But- I thought I was fine and never called them up.  As an independent person, I pride myself on not requiring much assistance. This autoimmune disorder changed everything. I had this wonderful partner who was trying to understand and trying to help me once she understood more- but every time she helped me I felt more and more ashamed. Sometimes I'd relax but then I'd be reminded of what she'd done- and I'd be depressed again. Because I'm the masculine one...right? What am I doing not being able to support myself? Manage my pain? Manage my emotions? And I felt so bad that I was a burden. I felt like at some point she resented my illness; being with this ill person. I felt like she saw my illness as a weakness...that it lended to her believing that I was weak. I became more indecisive because I was indebted and also because I'm fairly easy - when it comes to restaurants and outings.  She'd dealt so much with my irritableness, I tried extra hard to dial it back. But- then she started blowing up at me. And I started reacting to her reacting to me...and emotional meltdown after meltdown. Was there some queer counselor, yoga or meditation instructor that could have helped us from triggering each other?

I'm usually a level-headed person. I've practiced buddhism for years and years. But it felt like meditation was no match for this damn drug. Sometimes I was so complacent. I became less into my practice as I spiraled into this out-of-body experience with prednisone as the driver. Granted, it's important that I mention other factors were involved.  But the prednisone set the dynamic. And I am going to do everything within my power to heal myslf and get it out of my system. The anti-malarial drug as well. Because I care about my partners and loved ones and I would have never been so incompassionate if I'd never taken this stupid anti-inflammatory that suppresses my immune system (and emotions as well). Sigh.

One of the best things I heard while trying to cope with this drug: Remember, these emotions are manufactured.

I know this...my partner knew this...but what then? How do you deal with the aftermath or the continuation of being on such a disrupting drug?

Here are my thoughts: 1.keep open communication with your partner, ask for honesty and listen. 2.Try to eat as healthy as possible and figure out the allergens that might cause inflammation as well as depression or irritability. 3. Find coping strategies for when you have spells of irritability or rage whether it is going out, meditating or chanting, or doing breathing exercises and remembering that these emotions are not really coming from you. It helped me a lot when I would get angry to ask myself...am I really angry? Why am I angry? Is this really coming from me? Is there a reason for me to feel this way? Did what just happened warrant this much of a response? And when I'd get upset at myself for being angry I'd remember how important it was to be compassionate to myself. At first it was really hard to keep from being depressed or angry at my reactions, but once I learned to manage my emotions a little more it was easier to step back and be compassionate to myself. Honestly, if you can't be compassionate to yourself, you can't be compassionate to your partner. No matter how loving you think you are- if you are hard on yourself, odds are that you are the same way to your partner.

It's also extremely important to remember that autoimmune disorders didn't happen overnight. Depending on your understanding of the etiology or cause of it...you could believe it started as a child with exposure to toxins or maybe that it's something you inherited or you could believe that it is karma over a milennia. Whatever your understanding, it's important that you know that these disorders are deeply rooted and that the odds are that there is going to be a long road to recovery full of ups and downs as you learn to manage your lifestyle. It is imperative that you be with someone who understands this. I can't stress this enough. If you are with someone who does not understand the extent of this disease and what you are going through, it is going to make your recovery that much harder. I also recommend that your partner finds a support group for loved ones of people with autoimmune disorders and reads some literature and maybe even blogs on similar experiences and that you really sit down and check in with each other on how you are feeling and how you can support each other. It can be difficult, you definitely shouldn't minimize that - but it's not impossible. Those of you suffering with chronic pain and illness remember that if your partner gets upset or stressed out or feels like they can't deal with it, that it doesn't mean they love you any less. Think about it. If it's difficult for you to manage, how must it be for them? Even when we don't think that we ask a lot of our partners, it still can be overwhelming for them. Understanding is key. I can't stress enough how we need to be compassionate to one another in order to get through this together. And if your relationship must end because it is too difficult, don't beat yourself up or stress out about it. I know that it is more easier said than done but we really need to use that time to focus on what we need to do for us to feel better and manage our health and hopefully we can keep that loved one as a friend if not a romantic partner. If they stuck with us that long through all of the ups and downs, they really do care.