Walking Home Yesterday in meh...

Yesterday was the peak of emotional sadness for me.

After work, knowing I didn’t have to pick up the kids from daycare, I stopped at a grocery store to buy a new bus pass (haven’t had to buy one in 2 years; hurts my feelings) and pay a bill. I picked up some bourbon and some other stuff and went home.

The way I walk home is definitely a back street type of way, but it’s closer and less dangerous to me than walking over the highway on streets where people rarely stop at stop signs.

Anyway…

The way I take is near a biking/walking path. I walked up this slight incline to get to the little street in front of me. I hear behind me some heels clicking, walking quickly behind me. Some trashy looking woman in a hoop-like skirt, baby doll socks and some pumps. She was clean enough, but you will see why I called her trashy.

She walks ahead of me, with purpose of some kind. I didn’t really care about that, but laughed at her clothes because where ever she was going, she thought she was the shit. So she cuts across the grass onto the path. My pace is leisurely. I watch her a bit. Then I see her look down and at something that resembles a pile of clothes. She looks. Does a double take, and then just keeps it pushing. When I arrived at the spot, I realized it was a person. Crumpled up near a fence near the highway just off the path.

I was taken aback. I looked at that woman and she just said, “I don’t know who that is,” and continued to walk off. Trashy bitch she was. I stood there and looked around and one lady stopped her car and asked if I was calling emergency. I said yes I was. I didn’t know if the person was dead or breathing. Didn’t move at all. Two men walk up, and they look, and then talk to them. I didn’t notice the nail polish on the fingers until someone said, “She moved.” So as I was on the phone with emergency, I turned and saw the foot slightly move and then the arm move. Those two guys walked away. In the meantime, some guys in a truck drove past a couple of time while me and the other lady were standing there. I felt an overwhelming urge to just cry.

So I’m describing this person as a woman. When the dispatcher asked me if I would stay there, I said I could and I will. We disconnected the call. I walked over to “her” and saw a 5 o’clock shadow. My thoughts immediately went to, this is man, transgender, and someone beat his ass and left him here. Wasn’t the case. He was kind of dirty, he was high. When I said, “It’s a man,” One of the guys in the truck was getting out and he said, “What? It’s a guy???” He walked over and saw his face and was like I’ll be damn.

So, he was still laying on the ground, I hear a siren in the distance. The guy stirred. The sirens got closer. He sat up. “No cops,” he said weakly. Ran his hand through his hair, then he sat there. The sirens got closer and then I was able to see the fire truck coming down the hill. He didn’t jump up until and grab whatever he’d been using and laying on to hide it until the truck stopped. He hopped up like he wasn’t just out of it 5 minutes ago. Now everyone is driving past. One lady said, “…we called over an hour ago…” as she and her people were driving by. The firefighters took offense to that. And everyone just watched the person who garnered all this attention just walk down the walking path on the other side of the street.

I stayed around until I was dismissed. I saw the entire thing from front to end. I did not just call and leave. I did not record anything as there was nothing to see. Even if there was I would not do that. Something disrespectful in things like that. At any rate, I started my walk home with this sadness in me and I let tears drop and my face get wet. No sobs, but I cried as I walked home.

Rather ironic because I had a conversation with my son about him saying he was bisexual. I told him that he’s frustrated because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s frustrated with his life and he doesn’t know himself enough to say that. I told him that just because he can acknowledge that a guy can be handsome or like the way he wears his clothes or something benign like that doesn’t make him attracted in anyway bi.

This was the truth I faced the other day. I told my son that while I would always love him, this would be uncomfortable, but something I would get use to. I in fact tried to talk him out of it by stating the above mentioned stuff. I ended it with letting him know that I see how he struggles. I see him trying to fit in and even though being sexually questionable is accepted, he will still deal with discrimination of some type, disappointment in other people, frustration with other people. He has said before that he has thought about suicide. Being committed to a label would bring him an unwanted spotlight and as long as he is comfortable with who he is and confident then I won’t worry. But I know my son isn’t. He doesn’t know himself. He is unhappy right now and to bring unwarranted grief that is sure to come won’t keep him from killing himself. The thought of not having my son in my life in any capacity really, really grieves me. To add a joke, I said to him that I didn’t want to see him hurt because he was trying hustle up on some money giving out handies and shit. And seeing this person strung out, lost, and not being able to cope or whatever his situation was that got him to that point hurt my heart.

That is why I cried. And I went home and talked to my son. And while I didn’t say I cried because he came to mind, I did tell him I was sad at how broken this person was. That he would rather runaway from help than to get help.

No, my son didn’t say he was homosexual and it seems that I am blowing this way out of proportion. I am a person that looks at all avenues. I just ask that he finds himself, finds his niche beyond video games and be confident in who he is before he commits and settles into a notion that he is not really certain of. Don’t approach it from a stand point that “Well since this isn’t working,” especially when effort isn’t made or put into anything. That’s all.

::sighs big momma sigh::

Yep.

Kindest regards,
Sister