Suicide hotline calls quadrupled after Trump’s latest attack on transgender people / LGBTQ Nation

Suicide hotline calls quadrupled after Trump’s latest attack on transgender people / LGBTQ Nation:

Trans Lifeline, an organization that runs a crisis hotline for transgender people and staffed by transgender people, said that calls to their suicide hotline have quadrupled since the story broke that the Trump administration is trying to legally erase transgender identity.

In an Instagram post, Trans Lifeline reported that calls increased by four times last week, and first-time callers doubled.

More Stories About Grantland and Dr. V

Grantland apologises for article that outed transgender golf inventor

The prestigious sports website Grantland has admitted poor judgment and offered a profuse apology for an article about the inventor of a revolutionary golf club who committed suicide while the piece was being researched, and whom it posthumously outed as transgender.

Source: The Guardian


The 4 Most Important Points In Bill Simmons’ Apology For Publishing A Piece Outing A Trans Woman

Bill Simmons, the founder of Grantland, an ESPN-owned sports and entertainment site, issued a wide-ranging public apology on Monday for the site’s decision to publish a piece about the inventor of a golf putter who killed herself while the piece was being reported. Simmons’ piece answers many of the questions I and other critics have raised about the story, “Dr. V’s Magical Putter.” He acknowledged that the reporter, Caleb Hannan, should not have outed the subject of the piece, Essay Anne Vanderbilt, as transgender in a conversation with one of her investors. He admitted that Grantland had been careless in its use of gendered pronouns in referring to Vanderbilt, and in employing other language that implied that being transgender is strange, deceptive, or in keeping with fraud. And most strikingly and importantly, Simmons acknowledged that he and his staff had failed to supplement their own lack of understanding of transgender issues by bringing in outside editors, an omission that the site took a small step towards rectifying by publishing a thorough analysis of the piece by ESPN baseball reporter Christina Kahrl, who is herself transgender.

Source: Think Progress


When a Journalist Threatens to Out a Trans Woman, Where Do the Ethics Lie?

Just like Caleb Hannan, I know that when you set out to write a story, it doesn’t always end up where you thought it would. Human beings are fascinating, complex creatures, and sometimes a simple story on, say, a miraculous golf club evolves into something else as you uncover more and more about its maker. It’s then that you reach a breaking point: stop to refocus the story, or follow it in a new direction? What if following it would require outing your subject as a transgender woman, potentially endangering her?

Source: Care2

Ned Vizzini dies at 32: Fans mourn ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ writer

A sad story which is repeated all too often…

2D10286796 today vizzini 131220 01 blocks desktop medium


The New York-based author of “It’s Kind of a Funny Story,” a semi-autobiographical story about a teen’s battle with severe depression, committed suicide on Thursday, the city’s medical examiner’s office confirmed to His injuries were consistent with someone who had fallen to his death.

Read the rest on

Update On The Kids

My oldest saw the doctor today and it turns out he has a stress fracture in his lower back. Seems this is common among teen boys as they tend to be harder on their bodies. I had never heard of this before, but the doctor sees it as treatable. The main thing is to restrict his physical activity to low impact only and to take a pain reliever as needed. He’ll go back in a few weeks for another evaluation but at least there isn’t anything major which needs to be done which is a weight off my shoulders.

As for my middle son, our regular doctor is out of the office this week, but we have set up a consultation for when he gets back. We will need it to have the insurance cover therapy, if needed and I’m sure it will be… In the mean time we are to keep an eye on him and keep him talking which we have been doing. If there is another time when he feels like hurting himself, he is to immediately go to the school nurse and then the counselor. His teachers have the same instructions if they see anything of concern. 

I worry about him but I can’t be with him all day. I have to trust I have put what safeguards are possible in place. If there is an incident, we are to contact the police and have him admitted, which as I said, is something I really hope I never have to do but I would rather do it than bury my child.

Nothing like having one stressful situation on top of another to keep life interesting…

A Day From H*ll

I thought the day was going to go well. I awoke on my own before the alarm could jar me back into reality. I did have a strange dream but it didn’t leave me with any feeling of unease as sometimes happens. I had enough time before the kids got home to get most of my chores done…

Or so I thought.


The first indication I had the day was about to go amiss was my Father-in-law pulling into the driveway. I stepped out in time to see my oldest getting out of the passenger seat. Turns out he had a health issue at school and was sent home early. I say “health issue” because I don’t know what is wrong other than he has been having lower back pain and weakness in his left leg. It was the weakness which caused the problem, deciding to flair up as he was going down a flight of stairs. He would have fallen had a classmate not grabbed him.

Now I will admit to being unsure of how serious this was before today, he is a teenager and it seemed this would flare up right around chore time, but as I now see, there is indeed something going on as he has some swelling above his hip which wasn’t obvious before. I do feel bad for thinking he was overplaying things. We now have an appointment with our family doctor tomorrow so maybe we’ll know something sooner than later.

This would have been bad enough but I had yet to have my middle son come home looking like a guilty puppy. It didn’t take long to learn things were much more serious. Turns out he too had an incident on the stairs… they both attend the same school, but his was self inflicted. He deliberately tried to trip himself down the stairs but was saved by his backpack when one of the straps caught the railing and kept him from falling.

I can’t describe the jolt of pure fear which tore through me as I listened to him admit what had happened. This is something I never imagined, almost in the same league as stepping in front of a moving vehicle. I know it happens, but is something I have difficulty getting my head around.

The reasoning he gave was confusing and jumbled, I think mostly because he hadn’t really processed what had happened himself, but it was a combination of fear, stress, a lack of self worth, and not knowing how to deal with all of the emotions he was experiencing. Unfortunately, things have been such neither me nor A have been able to get him into see a doctor, but at this point I don’t think there is going to be any other choice outside of having him committed which I absolutely do not want to do, but if it was between intervention and having a dead son, there is no contest. One issue I have is knowing when we had his brother evaluated, it took weeks to be seen. I do think, much as I have found for myself, simply having a date to aim for provides enough of a goal to keep the demons away.

At this point I simply don’t know what to think… I am terrified of what I see happening, knowing there is nothing I can do besides simply be there for him, to keep him talking, to be as supportive as possible.

Funny enough, it was trying to get back into the rhythm of the evening which almost became overwhelming. Trying to get the youngest to finish his homework while getting supper cooked pushed me to the brink. Thankfully I was able to get everything done, the homework finished and put away, supper cooked, and last but not least, getting the final loads laundry washed and dried.

It’s funny the things which manage to stand out in the midst of seeming chaos…

Is It Worth The Effort?

A very real question has come to my mind, expressed in several different ways by different people and it is this…

Is it really worth the time and effort to write about and seek to debunk the lies, half truths, and misinformation presented by individuals who have already made up their minds regarding LGBT people; who insist on making inflammatory remarks in the hopes of not only riling their own constituents, but to try and do harm to others? People with whom there is little chance of meaningful dialogue? 

For me the simple answer is “yes.”

It is vital we stand up against such people and institutions where ever we find them because to do otherwise is to grant them a power over us they have not earned and do not deserve. There is a famous quote from Edmund Burke: 

“All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”

I have said it before and I will say it again, I am but one small voice in the vastness of the universe, but if just one other hears me and from my words gains hope, then it was worth every moment.

If I believe I have nothing to offer, that there are others who can speak better for me than I can for myself; if I turn aside because I think this one small blog, this tiny place, has no use or meaning, then I have indeed done nothing. It might be I am simply “preaching to the choir” or being an ant pounding on a fortress wall and in the end accomplish nothing of measure… but maybe, just maybe there is one person out there who is like I was in the beginning, searching for answers, hoping to find a glimmer of hope to give me a promise of a future I could not yet see. Just one person who might, by chance, happen upon this place and read what I have written and know they are not alone, that those things they have read by people who hate them not for who they are but what they are do not stand unopposed. 

Yes, most of you who read this blog are aware of the issues I speak of, some of you are Transgender or Transsexual, some of you are allies. Some of you have love ones who are Trans. You know many of the things I speak of, you have seen them, heard them, lived them. You are my choir. It is true many of you share the same thoughts and feelings as I, but I ask you, what of the person who is struggling, who is trying to keep their head above the waters of confusion and doubt? What of the teen, who sitting alone in front of the computer, read the hateful words I seek to speak against? For him, for her, I write in the face of others hatred and fear because that child needs to know they are not alone. They are not freaks or abominations or anything other than human beings who deserve our love and respect and who deserve the chance to live a full, happy life as who they are and not cowering in some dark hole of depression and despair.

I have been there, you have been there. We have watched others who have won and lost their battles there. I long for a day when such things are resigned to the history books and B rated horror movies, when no one will be able to imagine ever having to live such a life.

This is why I write. This is why, when I find an article or post or opinion piece which speaks nothing but hatred… I will speak against it. I will seek to tear down the walls of lies they have built, not for those who know the truth but for those who do not.

One day at a time. One mind at a time. One heart at a time and we can change the world.

Will There Ever Be A Day?


This is something I have spoken to before and I will speak to again and again until there is no need, and I pray every day my voice is no longer needed.

I read a post today from someone I follow. This person is thinking of doing something. Something final.

I made a comment, though I don’t know if they will read it or if they do, if it will help. It was all I could do.

I have spoken about suicide before. I have been there. I have done that. While I cannot speak to anyone else’s pain, I understand what it like to reach this point. I understand the hopelessness. I understand not being able to see beyond the circumstance. To not being able to see tomorrow, the next hour. Sometimes the next minute.

I understand the crushing void. The cold feeling which weigh upon the heart and soul.

I understand…. God, I understand.

As I said in my comment, we cannot know the future. We cannot say things will get better, nor can we promise they won’t get worse. But this…. This is the end of the line. There is no future, no promise. Taking this step means throwing away everything. Yes, it is throwing it all away. As long as there is breath there can be hope. There can be a chance for something different.

I know this person cannot see this now. I know their eyes are locked on the abyss…

My one hope, my promise, is this person chose to write a post. They decided to speak out, to scream into the abyss and pray someone would answer. In this I see a chance, maybe it is not too late…