Why?
By Lee McInnis Gaetjens
My early child hood when my mother lead my father, I moved back to the southern states during this time the year of 1983. My father than came in and out of AA and the program.
My early childhood memories are odd and obscure, I always felt out of place, confused like I did not belong or something wasn’t right or I wasn’t right. Somethings Missing out of place, one of my early st memories is around age 3 or 4 or 5 or so when moving back to the south from the bay area. My early sit childhood memories my mother was hard on me, my mother fought often with my right-wing grandmother, my mother was as full of panic and disorder and drama and unhappy as I am now.
But one of my early memories of being out of place, or wrong on not much myself, is when I was little one of my first happy memories is playing with someone posing for a coffin and someone else and doing other odd things for my mothers lawyer whom she made life difficult for my dad in recovery, played games and also given the fact my father grew up in New York City and didn’t drive for many years and still doesn’t largely. She moved things made things hard for him in a cab, and bus service. He stayed at the YMCA given his early soberer.
I hallways felt out of place in early childhood one of my closet early friends and only given my mothers overly protective, paranoia, OCD upbring and excessive and obscure childhood I had and lack of socialization and allowing me to grow out of fear of my big evil father or the big bad bully, my mother often isolated me and didn’t let me develop or grow due to paranoia and overly promotive and unreality goals and lacked to give me any independence and or freedom or enjoy simple childhood pleasures.
Anyway one of my first memories beyond my acting and flower and dead thing for my moms legal assistant or witness or noter that was present for dealings related to the divorce and custody dispute whom she bashed my father, who cleaned up and she made his life very difficult. Was my great uncle HJM (Hugh Judge McAuliffe) whom was a very hard ass old timer with the big car, johnny cash fan, and more very conservative right wing stubborn piggish, but to make a long story short, urning this time he lived with my aunt AM (allice mcaullife) and my cousins (Christiana arbor and her friends would come over after school and My gender exploration began there but also in of all places the old timers sears catalogs I would spend hours on ends, fantasying of being a girl starching into sears catalogs for hours on end.
While being pushed for acting out, or being left in a tree, or being pushed into games or activities of logic or being pushed into things or activity’s my over protective mother would disapprove with HJM AM DLG (Daniel lee gay) or PMG (Patrica McAuliffe Gay) that I could get away more with murder or things were not allowed.
Further more though my twisted family, religious twists, personal issues and screwed up childhood, and struggling since I was 5 years old with the sears fantasy and long hours in the bathroom reading but with the catalog.
The reality is I have grown beyond that years of suffering and denial I hurt, badly for denying myself vocal opinion, I never knew in Overly protected religious secular right upbringing that there was a thing as Gender Identity and Transsexuals or much more than I converted to The Latter Day Saint faith, and did self-destructive actions to others. And doing distributive things to my life. I used work, over-work, and buying my temporary happiness, for example my pickup-truck, vacations, travels were just temporary fixes, than one night while in fear to go home, I was invited to and discovered bar hopping and drinking and the wonders of medication and cure with drinking in Houston.
I hated drunks, in my early to later teen years was around sub stand abuse, drinking after I left my folks, in early child-hood I was cultured, middle to upper class, and knew so much and than started to well work hard and be someone I wasn’t though backbreaking, hard manual labor, self drive and self-reservation I worked myself to death, Had faith in something to cure my feelings, and destroyed my life. Eventfully upon Transferring to Houston. I over-worked and burned out when I worked for a manger named Ray Gonzales who cleaned houses of un-profitable stores for my company, was a big wig in the woodlands, and more paranoid and dysfunctional and rumored despite being a big wig right wing rep, married and with kids and a die hard right wing ultra-Conservative roman catholic was gay, but lived a double life with customers and employees and his number two co-manager was rumored to be gay. And half the store was GLBT on various levels some more out than others further adding to my fears of
To further complicate things my Transfer here was less than joyful, the company was going through hard times the stock price was down a Hireling freeze was in effect. Corners were being cut everywhere the infamous movie was being filmed, the tire and lube people were being split across the board drowning the end. And in worse fashion the people who when I was finally promoted after spending a summer outdoors alone 90% of the time working in the hottest summer in Houston with a burn ban.
I got promoted to a worse job inside, in an abusive hard and verbally and physically abusive era in the workplace, at home, and blackmailed and extorted and set up. And shortly afterward discovered drinking after my home, house and insecurity’s were invited.
I than after becoming hurt at work, burned out and with my poor conduit discovered and preferred drinking drama, and physically and verbally abusive relationships, I further destroyed myself by terroristic law enforcement, citizens, and being hostile to getting help, and hate, racism given the people who abused me largely were black and has panic, I was the token white back there, they later found out one night about me attending mcc, when they beat me up off property and I hid and hid and hit with one of the letters you gave me. I had an alarm event (police panic at my old apartment) when they beat me up there, and rattled the window and vandalized my truck on a few occasions, abused, and intimated me in the community to try and get terroristic actions out of me, when I could no longer do so, I cared little about my life, hit the bottle club, debit, bills, and work became lacking, I bitched and bitched and bitch about life but did little to further it, I further terrorized the local community and others friends family members and acquaintances by doing self-destructive actions, lieing, drinking and using people than pushing them away from me destroying the relationships and ruining my life, and eventfully my scholarship for collage to fulfill my life long dream.
I still often miss my family, friends and former people who cared and try to help
I was born Jan 18th, 1981 to my parents Martin Clark Gaetjens & Kathryn Kathleen McInnis Gay McAuliffe at Kaiser foundation Hospital, at 2:03 am i n the morning PST. I was a quick and emergency c-section I was blue due to lack of air to the brain and a Emergency C-section but alive and in good spirits regardless of the cord being warped around my neck 3 times. I was born in the era before ultrasounds were norm, or mainstream, when blood work took hours, and you didn’t have wide spread computers and before databases, the Internet and digital Lifestyle and cell phones, PDAs and pagers, FAX machines and blackberry’s were the part of every day life, before 24 hour cable news, I remember the 80s of my childhood. its who I am and my favorite time and a the end of a simpler era before the big tech boom.
I was born Jan 18th, 1981 to lovering good parents who in conflict used me to fight and split located at Kaiser Foundation Hospital in Oakland, CA. My Mother was Born and Raised in New Orleans, Louisiana as My dad was born and raised in New York City, New York State.
I was born at approx. 2:03 AM (PST) a traumatic birth, I was kicking and had swung myself around again, it was fast approaching my time to join the world, in the early 1980s (the birth of the digital age was still in infancy) Ultrasounds, cat scans and things we take for granted and sometimes love and love to hate were reserved for the few and elite and very very expensive, pricey and not covered by my mothers and fathers insurance and largely viewed as a novelty medical device due to the limited availability, the high cost of computer power and digital imaging ( we are still in the dark ages and the birth though not boom of personal computing)
I had turned myself around and My life might be in danger, my mother had to choose to wait for X-rays (you still used film and the process took time you had to manually develop in those days and have a actually tech not a computer do the work for you the days of skilled labor, and unions were still here) My mothers gut and parenting instinct told her to go into labor, and not wait for the tests which was a very good thing, I was an emergency C-section at the time (modern medicine of the late 70s and early 80s discouraged c-sections) I was born blue and not breathing but early Regan era medicine saved my life.
I had a childhood of conflict, my mother had left New Orleans fairly liberal in the 1960s, my uncle (who later became more my father figure my moms brother) left for Texas, which I would later follow in his footsteps. My father is very far left liberal and new York can be more right wing left the slums of the Bronx which was different from today and people like jerry orbach and others grew up in the Bronx in his era.
My mother moved around the west coast Portland, or, Richmond, ca when (I was born) redneck town in a blue state. Same with Houston and Texas there is blue you just have to know where to look much more blue than in New Orleans.
My mom left my father and came back 3 times before going to separation, My father had a drinking problem and as a child there is much to be disputed (it sucks when parents bring the kids into the equation) I honestly believe after uncovering things during my mothers death that she was to blame as much as My dad, they were different people who were not right for each other but tried to do the best for me but the blood and booze spilled.
I have felt conflict with my gender from a very young age roughly beginning around age 3-5 years of age, which begins my separating my parent’s fights and ultimately leading to going home to sweet old Harvey, Louisiana in Jefferson parish.
I think my earliest memory is I always as a younger child fit in more with the girls, and latter was more obscure from a lack of socializing and overly protective mother, afraid of my father and others (allegedly he sent a P.I. to hunt us down or a hit man or some bullshit) I think parents out of bad digressions do bad and stupid things, I feel my father gave up, and my mother shut him out, they both did their parts to hurt and lie on each other, and hurt me in the process.
I had a rough childhood, history of dalliance, good upbringing, my family has a large catholic background, and my mom quit practicing, and also had much conflict with my grandmother in my early childhood, and young adult hood and early pre-teen years.
I was subjected to beatings punishments for my arrogances and stupidity and destructive and obscene and profanity and sinful actions in my youth. I had been beaten, and even was called evil and sinful.
I think a lot of parents want to protect their children but I was overly protected and overly sheltered in my youth to the point of being naive though young adult-hood and even into adulthood partially.
I think my first remembrance of feeling like a girl, was when I was 3 or 5 so years old when my mother returned here and was “hiding” from my big evil dad. With her atty and lawyer in my family’s “empty” that my mom, my uncle and (adopted sister) were raised in house uptown New Orleans in Broadmor which some may know better given its coverage during Katrina.
We were in there waiting for my dad to show up. I think my mom often played games with my father and wanted to win custody and wanted out of the marriage out of poor taste, unhappiness, or homesickness, or maybe wanting the best for me. I believe to some degree my father wanted the best for me but gave up, I don’t trust nor distrust him to much today, but he is my flesh and blood and we share some similar DNA.
I think my father sometimes says one thing but actions, and words and cause and effect, as my mother was just as equity guilty in a lot of my life as were many other people.
My memory goes to some point of waiting for a lawyer, I think she had a little girl with her or her nanny stopped by to see her or something (cell phones were rare, pricey and prestige to yuppies, millionaires and drug dealers and generally installed in cars with the like curry cord most people or working class doctors, cops, fire ems used pagers and pay phones in those days if you could afford one or be issued one)
Regardless I think we played some or it may have been a neighbor, it was fun and enjoyable, I think I played dead and held a rose some sort of neo-Gothic romance thing blah. And look at me today.
Regardless as I grew up I got in trouble, but was generally moralistic, but acted out a lot, I had a troubled child hood, which I would later find out to have suffered brain damage at birth to the left frontal lobe, I also I think the local Houston company Medtronic’s was to a trail which never met FDA approval to try and repair my damaged brain nodes but failed and they still struggle the FDA does not conceder it safe and an elective surgery. I also struggled with speech and being or having social contact due to a very overly protective mother.
Moving forward I go to the school years, I fit in but was often alone and troubled an unhappy youth, I did sometimes in early childhood play with girls and make friends, and even had a few kiddies’ girl friends in childhood. Blah. Obscurity the house where she lived across from were I played as a kiddle was and still is there she was a army brat and where my school was now stands some yuppie new homes as about built in my high school years.
I trough pre-teen and young adult hood and early to mid childhood started gender bending as some would call and even ado lance. My family “caught” me a member as a child never spoke to it to others but did beat me well for doing such a “wrong” thing. I had a more ultra-right wing conservative GREAT-uncle not the uncle who was like my father he was more like a grandfather but very stubborn and right wing.
I had a great-aunt who growing up was like a grandmother but she was much older than my grandmother, and my grandmother kept her youth in appearance even to today to some degree despite her health problems.
I also began watching other girls wishing I could be them but In puzzlement did not understand given my right wing upbringing and roots, in south east Louisiana. I found a new self-reflection but in utter puzzlement, I spent some of my youth at night going to sleep dreaming of waking up in a new body, something about that felt right and something about what was wrong is now and that is correct. But things of that nature are taboo and get your ass kicked but religious right wing zealots, My mother was ok with long hair, but others did not like it and wanted nothing to do with me unless I cut it, did not like playing and ran firm 1920s discipline. I had a slightly though good natured loving side, but with turmoil inner I had a destructive, rebellious side sort of a Mr. Hyde and miss nice gal personality or something of that nature.
Even to this day, with my nice outgoing, caring giving personality, very friendly and trusting and stubborn and procrastinator self, it hides my true self, for so many years my hard work, risk taking, warehousing, and taking dumb risks and dumb luck I tired for all to hard and long to be a man, sure I may have attended glbt support groups, I converted to LDS or Mormonism as its commonly known to deny my own true self.
While I had searched for some peace within myself, I often wanted more and joined for the wrong reasons, I agree LDS folk are good kind, trustworthy folks but lost and misguided.
I remember in my young adulthood 18+ being misguided. And my mother and I and with my family rocky relationship and after her death 2 weeks after 9-11-2001 on my uncles birthday on September 25th that same year of the infamous terrorist attacks. Which ironically by birth and coming out and also becoming a terrorist myself or according to the state of Texas would be on the same year.
I’m very weary of dates, places, and parts to my life, and family. Given the past 3 deaths in my family have been on relatives birthdays. I lost and loose a lot for myself, and life.
I often find and even growing up secretly continued my cross-dressing, but as adalonace hit in I often tried the hardest to fit in and for many many years hid my true feelings about my true self, this is almost 10 years lieing to myself and trying to forget and hide myself or do a cure for all and pretend to be a real, man. I was not or will ever be.
I later in teenage years became very obese I over ate became unhappy, with myself, my body, my gender and my sexuality something felt broken I felt wrong sinful and shameful, joining the Latter Day Saint (Mormon) church made me feel worse.
I often even under the silly jokes and even today with my outgoingness live a dark, twisted depressed and lonely and unhappy life to this date.
I further have the foresight of being born in the early digital age, when tech was still well not as widespread in everyday life and living as is today, manual pricing guns were common place, the day before the infamous UPC codes and development of the digital age, when telephone calling was new, 900, 976 numbers were the big deal as far as scams the Internet had not grown outside the think tanks, university’s, and corporate networks and government and civil servants, and on line services like Gene, Compuserve, etc were the big deal.
Mobile phones were per minute, leased and if lucky bought. And amongst the privileged and powerful and developed . In other development the life I lived and grew was myself and growing into true self shows today, stuck behind a 300 baud dumb terminal, or if lucky an ISDN line or leased government line and access to FAX machines and older drum built like a tank copy machines were commonplace.
The world developed much and fast into myself, and boredom, I read into books, available my life is grown into a cesspool of faith, power and development.
My time in Houston was well intentioned, but I burned out and maybe wasn’t ready and the drink, dance, club and bottle and smoke became my medication for almost the entire 2.5 years in Texas.
July 1st, 2008 at 2:11 am
johnny cash leave your guns at home
How do you come up with so much material to blog with?