I’m seriously sick of having these court conditions hanging over my head. My dad was on the verge of calling in a breach last night and I told him to just fucking do it. Honestly, I know that I’m not going to last until July 15th without SOMETHING going wrong. I just need to not be in jail when Kristy gets here at the end of June, so I’d rather get it done sooner rather than later. I’m actually considering breaching on purpose to go in.
I don’t know why, but I’ve been feeling really alone. My beliefs only get me so far, especially when I see the world shit all over them all the time. It’s really hard to keep convincing myself that everything is okay, and that we’ll win this fight when the people up high not only don’t care, they actively persecute and harm us.
Discriminiation is bullshit. And I’m so fucking sick and tired of it, in all it’s forms, I can’t stand it anymore. I say it all the time and I live what I say, but every time I hear someone use the word ‘fag’ or ‘gay’ or ‘junkie’ in a negative way it fucking hits me hard. I know that I identify as hetero, but that’s not the point. Most of my close friends fall somewhere in the queer spectrum and if I think I have it hard as a junkie, they have it worse. Getting fired from jobs, constant loneliness, I can’t even imagine what it’s like.
The societal policies, as I like to call them, have to change before the official ones do. It’s such a simple thing but people don’t fully understand it. We have to live discrimination-free, stigma-free before our laws will change to reflect it. I mean, for Christ sake, sodomy is still illegal in some parts of the world! Like, fuck off.
My new amazing girl used the word gay the other day and I challenged her in a really open and understanding way, and she explained that she is totally not discriminatory, it’s just our stupid generation has the word burnt into their minds. I told her that I understand, I used to be the WORST one of all in using that word negatively. It took a LONG time to clear it out and now when I try to say it to test myself it just feels wrong. Which it should — my older brother is trans, my uncle is gay and most of my friends as I said are queer in one way or another. And working at YSB, we of course have a harassment- and discrimination-free workplace. Which is really awesome. It’s called a safe space, which means EVERYONE should feel same from any and everything hurtful. And it’s enforced, really well. It makes me proud to work here.
I’m in a really unique position, and at a really big crossroads in my life. As Michelle always tells me, junkies tend to buy into the bullshit we hear all the time — that we’re worthless scum that deserve to be sick and die. And we believe it — we actually bring it on ourselves because we feel that that’s what we deserve. I’m so tired of feeling this way, having this constant internal identity battle. I hate having to hide from everyone. I wish I could just take off my sweater and let the world see my track marks, but except in a very small number of circumstances it’s impossible.
To me, it’s like someone who is mentally ill not being allowed to talk about it. Or recieve any help. Or, say you have cancer and it’s so stigmatized that you can’t talk about it and you have to hide from the world. And God forbid the tumour gets so big other people can see it, cause then you can’t walk down the streets.
Last World AIDS day, literally a couple hours before the march started I found out that a good friend of mine had died from complications with his HIV treatment. I was so upset that I could barely talk; I just marched with my head down and away from the YSB delegation. I pulled off my sweater and bared my tracks to the world, I wanted everyone to see that I was not ashamed of who I was because he would have wanted me to. And that’s a big part of it — so many people want me to be proud of who I am. Tara is like my personal fucking cheerleader, she makes me feel so wonderful about what I do and who I am. But then there’s the days where people like her are not around, and I’m panning by myself, and someone goes out of their way to spit on me and then they take five minutes out of their day to hurl insults at me. Believe me, I don’t sit there and take it, I yell back but then I regret it because I have to leave me spot.
Or when the cops jump you, find your syringes and then try to stab you with them because they don’t believe your story. And then they work you over a bit to get the point across, and then take your research papers and throw them out. Thank God Tara is so understanding! Luckily that turned out okay.
I don’t look at the police the same way you do. I can’t! I’ve seen them do so many horrible things to the best people I know that I can’t have the same respect that some people do. But sometimes you run into one who truly cares and it reminds me that there is good still left in this world.
Then there’s people like Jason Pino, who runs the Thursday night art group I go to. He’s literally tireless – he does street outreach, working with the Ottawa Innercity Ministries, and goes to school during the day, and has a family at home. I don’t understand how he does it. It’s pretty inspiring to me. He takes time to care for everyone. If you met him you’d immediately like him too. He works with a lot of drug users, and though he doesn’t totally understand why we use drugs he doesn’t care. He just wants us to be healthy and to reach our full potential.
Doesn’t everyone deserve that same chance? Doesn’t everyone deserve that same respect?
Ask someone if they think junkies deserve respect and see what they say. Seriously, try it.
