It is truly amazing the human capacity to withstand pain and repeat cycles of violence before breaking. Some fucked up relationships can go on for decades. But the lab rats when left alone with heroin laced water will always overdose and die. At some point the mind inside the user’s body decides NO MORE. Either by death or detox, something finally gives. It is a slow suicide. Even calling it that is a catch phrase that rings true to me when i describe being suicidal to people. I would do whatever drugs clients did or put in front of me. I once traded sex for pills from a pimp. I was trying to get Oxycodone but he gave me something weaker. Vicodin. I can’t commit suicide with Vicodin! Or maybe it is possible but i just ended up throwing up for half a day.
Is suicide a choice? Do you support your friends in making this choice? Is it like when a friend gets an abortion?
I posted this on my Facebook. People convinced me it was not a choice because it was a mental illness. No sane person would make this choice they said. I thought back to fucking that pimp (not my pimp) for those pills. What was I thinking? That it would take just 3 to OD on oxy for me and I could die alone and unnoticed because the world as I knew it was pointless. My narrow tunnel of darkness was a form of mental illness I reasoned. My logic was indeed skewed. I felt at the time that I was “trying to become a drug addict” because at least a downward spiral would count as having “direction” since most of my depression at the time was the result of having lost an identity around being a sex worker founder of an organization, getting arrested and jailed and feeling like my life had no direction. The feeling that being denied the right to work a teaching job was a good reason to give up entirely on any future. Mental illness. No sane person chooses addiction. Or do they?
Lily Fury wrote to me and many others on Facebook personally apologizing for the Bambi Ortiz fiasco in which she created a digital character or three that represented all of the social justice rainbow spinning a fundraiser for a victim raped by a NYC cop story that pulled the heartstrings of many people workers and non workers in the sex worker rights community, who has been in the last five years working hard to implement social justice into the organizing structure with conscious visibility and its own form of affirmative actions which would show up in events, conferences, marches and media campaigns like Bambis. Bambis photos were sexy. So was Harmony, her Latina persona. So was the Asian one she created too. She would pull my bisexual sweatshirt strings towards her full lips and whisper about the good times we could have if we were alone in New York City on my next visit. Haha it was all from Lily pretending to be women (plural) of color). I fucking donated to her and I didn’t even have the money for my own rent. I was promptly refunded after this whole shit was uncovered but the whole community was outraged as they should have been. The campaign had gone viral and she had effectively embezzelled a few thousand dollars. I don’t know what happened to the money, but she would be posting happy white sand beach photos with her tribe and girlfriend “sorry not sorry” as the caption in bold during the uncovering of the fiasco. Mental Illness. Narcissism.
“I’m sorry. I’m bipolar and have schizoaffective disorder. I had just been incarcerated and was in heroin withdrawal in a terrible state of mind. I’m continuing on my journey of self growth for my daughter. I know what I did was fucked up and will always regret it but unfortunately I can’t go back in time. I can only move forward and learn from my mistakes to be a better person.”
The rest of her blog, like the rest of her writings are well written literate pieces, explaining the situation in a transparent recap, step by step from her brain to our community. Lily asked to add me into a sex worker group on FAcebook. Bambi Ortiz never personally reached out to me, but Harmony and her Asian persona had. I even tried to forward a media interview to one of her personas!
“No thank you.” I said.” I do not think you should be organizing sex workers.”
“I’m not,” she said,”It’s just a support group.”
She was gathering up who were still willing to be her allies. I was speaking to her on FAcebook. I hadn’t blocked and unfriended her. I told her I forgave her and wished her the best, but she and her crazy are the reasons I continue to stay away. Like an abusive ex. Don’t. Call. Me. I’ll. Call You. NOT.