Miley Cyrus and a Call to Action

"Nobody's Perfect. Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has those days." Yes, that's Miley Cyrus (Hannah Montana). Lately it seemed like Miley was having some of those days for quite some time. I liked Hannah Montana because it was Disney and I like Disney. You can say what you want and judge all the questionable activity of Miley, but there's more to the story. You can read the story here at The Daily Dot and Out Magazine. But basically Miley came out as non-binary (but not explicitly genderqueer). Hence, my avoidance of pronouns.  On a social level it's wonderful to have such a famous young icon for non-binary children/teens to look to. Not necessarily emulate everything, but that they now have a voice, a face, that the world can't ignore. Furthermore Miley started a charity The Happy Hippie Foundation that "rallies young people to fight injustice" and is dedicated to helping the homeless LGBT youth.

So this really got me thinking. All these issues that I've been writing about (identity struggles, depression, mental illness, suicide, self-harming, etc.) are more than just feelings to process or conversations to be had. These are as real as the air you breathe and food you eat. They are a constant and daily occurrence whether in your life or a friend's or the person you see on the street. In the side bar to the right I have a small list of different hotlines and information under Helpful Resources. I'll continue to add to it as I come across more resources, but that's for when you're on my blog, on the internet. What can you do when it's that person on the street that needs help? Directing them to my blog or any other online resource isn't the best option. When you're outside in the real world, you need immediate access to real people who can help in real time.

I live in NYC and I see people in need every day on the streets and in the subway. And then there are so many more than simply don't show any immediate physical signs of needing help or don't ask for it. Life is hard. And I'm not rich. As much as I would like, I can't even give a quarter to every single person I see in need. And it breaks my heart to the point where I've gone numb and blind. And we New Yorkers are always in a rush. We don't have the time. We don't think we have the time. Sometimes all it could take is one phone call to save a life, and I'm not talking about 9-1-1. At the very least give a smile. Treat them as the equal human beings that they are.

I challenge you to add these numbers and address to your phone contacts. It takes a few seconds now, and by tomorrow you'll forget that they're there. But when the time comes you'll be prepared to step in and make a difference. I'm doing this right now with you. Here are some NYC information and some of the links have information for other cities as well.

Homelessness:
Covenant House New York (homeless, runaway, at-risk youth)
460 West 41st StreetNew York, NY 10036(212) 613-0300

Bowery Mission227 Bowery, New York, NY 10002(212) 674-3456

Domestic Violence: Safe Horizon Hotline: 800.621.HOPE (4673)

Suicide/Crisis: The Samaritans: (212) 673-3000

Human Trafficking Hotline: 1 (800) 373-7888

Life Before and After A Suicide Attempt

Although I think suicide is the most important struggle since it's permanent and it's also what I used poetry to help me process the most, I decided not to lead with it but instead some of the major contributing factors for me. I don't think someone commits or attempts to commit suicide for just one reason. I didn't try to kill myself just because I was stuck in a massive depressive episode for years. I didn't try to kill myself just because I was gay and that wasn't acceptable in the Christian environment I was trapped in. I didn't just try to kill myself because I didn't feel like I could ever be the man I was "supposed to be." Yes, all those things pushed me closer to the edge, pushed the knife a little deeper. But after all that I tried to kill myself because of society and not just the one I locally lived in. I was 11 and I didn't want to grow up to be a teenager because teenagers are idiots. I should know now that I've crossed that bridge recently. But I saw them on TV, in books, in my life, (I'd say in movies but I wasn't allowed to go to those), and I so desperately did not want to be one of those. Aside from the aforementioned, I had lived as great a life an eleven-year-old could live. I was fully content with dying and escaping the future torment. But I'm here now so that obviously didn't work out. Before I knew it I was a godforsaken teenager. Puberty, honestly, wasn't that big of a deal for me. It hit me rather early for a guy and I was like ok. The hard part was that I was like ok I like guys, how do I stop? I had a couple best friends who I called my Lights. As long as I was around one of them I was ok. But at night the depression hit hard and fast. And unless you're familiar with that level of depression, it's too hard to explain in any way that isn't a face to face conversation. But one by one my Lights went out for different reasons. But by then I was already almost done with being a teenager. And I had become the monster I was trying so drastically to avoid. I had lost most of my innocence, not that any of us are innocent to begin with. I decided my freshman year of high school that I had to get as far from this homophobic environment as possible and as fast as possible. And I was too afraid to ask my parents to let me go to a public school, and I couldn't even play the financial card since my mom worked at the school so it was practically free. I honestly just wanted a place to get away from the same people I knew since I was 5 and saw six days a week none of whom I could trust. And yes, I was hoping to meet a cute guy or any non-hetero so I knew I wasn't alone. Because I don't know what's lonelier than being the only inmate living in a prison with no bars surrounded by wardens who preach love but would hate me if they knew who I had a crush on. So if I was going to be stuck in this system till I graduated, I might as well move up my release date. And who needs a sophomore year of high school anyways. I'd make a joke about a "wise fool" but that's etymologically incorrect.

Remember when I went to a mental hospital?