On Writing Publicly (2017–02–15)
Putting all this stuff online was my version of putting tattoos on my hands.
There are jobs I will never get because of it.
It’s permanent.
I did it consciously and intentionally.
But, yet, sometimes I’ll be on my way back from a meeting (like today, when I met with a planning coalition that includes representatives from 27 communities as part of a current consulting job that does *not* reward vulnerability) and I remember…
And it feels like a gut punch to suddenly re-realize that any one of these people could google me and find out in great detail that my existence isn’t secure and that I am a liability in common society’s eyes, that I literally have the ICD-10 code for chronic PTSD tattooed on my upper arm.
I’m on I-93 headed to my next destination and zooming ahead to six months from now, picturing my contract not being renewed because of uncomfortable whispers, my next lucrative gig outside of trauma work shot because of stigma.
Everything is temporary. I’m trying to save my fuck-off fund just in case. Save 15k asap. Don’t get too comfortable.
I try to bring it back to the moment.
I chose this. It chose me. I chose it because it chose me.
Me and F43.12 are ride or die now.
I fiddle with the pack. I’m low on cigarettes.
I roll the window all the way down and check my speed.
Fuck.
Exhale.
Be the change you want to see in the world, right?
I am the Founder and Creative Director of Other Lives, a peer-led trauma survivors’ network and advocacy organization. For more about our work, please visit otherlives.org. You can support our mission at patreon.com/otherlives.
I am currently publishing some of my old writing that was originally written for Facebook, and I have created my own publication on Medium for that purpose: https://medium.com/untitled-draft
