Me, myself, and my dog
Winnie probably doesn't have the same concerns about loneliness
I’ve recently gained a few followers and subscribers on Substack so I’m going to try to be consistent with updating. It's a bit hard because sometimes I feel like I have nothing to share but at the same time my mind is going a mile a minute. Here are some recent thoughts and, at the end, a plea for support if you feel so inclined.
During the early January fires in Los Angeles, I chose to evacuate when a new one started just a few blocks away. For a day at least, the sky was dark and the whole city smelled like a plastic barbecue but this was the first one that came close to my home.
Some of my neighbors were leaving, some chose to stay. I asked one of them, “do you know where you’re going?” And she looked at me with a bit of pity. I forgot. Not everyone lacks an emergency destination in times of need.
“I’m going to stay with a friend in Echo Park,” she said. “I feel like Long Beach is a good option too. See if there are hotels open that way?”
She didn’t say it with any malice but, still, I was embarrassed by this exchange. I was also sure that they had all heard me crying on the phone in my studio just minutes earlier. My mother sounded painfully uncomfortable herself. Her solution to all of my inconveniences is to suggest that I fly back home to Houston. But she didn't have the funds to send to make it happen and neither did I.
But I wasn't asking for that, especially because our cordial relationship is somewhat recent and uncertain. I was more feeling worried for the space I’d built over the last few years; I didn't want to abandon it.
Most of all, I was having one of those moments where I was registering just how alone I really am.
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I’m working on a memoir right now. Or rather, as I’ve seen an author say: a memoir is working on me. It has been for the last few years, really, but over the past few weeks, I’ve been on a writing high. I’m churning out more work than I have in years. It probably has something to do with the astrological moment or maybe a severe need to make sense of things. Either way, I’m not gonna question it.
Right now, it's split into four parts that mirror each other when it comes to my experiences. For example, I’ve been alone for quite some time in my 28 years. Not consecutively but consistently. And each time, it seems like the last instance has prepared me for the new one.
I just have to remember how to to do it, like driving a car (because I don't ride bikes).
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When I was in the hotel in Pomona, I was with my dog. She’s only two feet long but she somehow managed to take up most of the king bed, corralling me to a corner.
Normally, I’d chastise her a bit and beg her to scoot over. But we were both stressed in this moment after leaving a burning Los Angeles -- me, because of my rage from the day’s chaos; her, due to my harried go-bag packing and need to drive at top speed, blasting one of the angry women playlists I have on hand.
It was fine though. We were soon synced back up like always: playing around in the room, patrolling the premises, and eventually cuddling after the mandatory chicken bribe. We spent two days there with other evacuees.
These days, everyone is reading or re-reading Octavia Butler. Her work encourages us to link up with community to protect ourselves and each other so I’ve been trying to do so.
I was encouraged by the speed with which people came together before the fires were even contained, passing out masks and running clothing drives. I even volunteered myself. But I was equally as discouraged by the presence of the National Guard to prevent “looting” and the lack of urgency from the local government to support in any other way.
Still, the stark silence when we returned home to my unharmed apartment was the most jarring.
I want to blame this outcome on something but there are so many causes. I’ve purposely escaped some people in the past. Admittedly, I've done nothing but work for the last few years, sometimes well past regular hours, limiting my time with the few friends I've made on the west coast. My chronic depression catches up to me. There are people I do not ever want to see again after one bad engagement. When I do have the time and energy to leave the house, often everyone else is tucked away with their partners, lacks the funds to go out, or is one of the many practitioners of the classic “LA flake.”
I don't blame this place in particular because making friends is hard no matter where you are. However, I sometimes wonder, when laughing at a glowing screen thanks to close friends from college, if I'm past the window for having any new depth in my circle.
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Sometimes, when planning road trips or flights across the country, I’m empowered. Nothing is holding me back and I'm not responsible to anyone. I love bragging about it, even. I love shocking a cocky jerk on a date or a patronizing interviewer by telling them that I’ve been to Cuba, South Africa, and driven over 13 hours solo from Baltimore to Minneapolis in a U-Haul truck.
Some people have never done anything alone so that skill makes me feel like a bad bitch. But, at times like these, I’m exhausted by the decisions I have to make on my own.
As the hard times are starting to ramp up, as people feel more unhinged and complacent, as I plan for the next emergency, that exhaustion is getting more regular. I want to feel like I'm simply on a tumultuous journey, having fun or at least learning how to hang on but, instead, I feel like I have to lean into the stereotype I'm supposed to be: the strong Black woman who’s capable of doing it all and with grace.
While that can be exciting to execute, I do wonder when it'll end.
Thank you for reading. Obviously, I'm in a down moment right now, but I hope to share some positive news soon! If you're able to swing it, please consider donating to my recent fundraiser. And whether you can or not, you definitely have my permission to share with your community.
Also, happy Black history month. Nothing feels as important as celebrating that right now so I hope you fill it with the Black reading, films, and music that have inspired much of the world.