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[taraelghrimwilliams]

I had everything I ever needed in her.

Love. Purpose. Hope.

And I threw it away.

Maybe this is what I wanted all along. To die alone. Perhaps I was just too much of a coward to confront that part of me and embrace happiness. So I did the only thing I knew. I pushed her away.

Nothing has worked out. None of the charities can help me, there's a year long wait list for low income housing, and the friend who I thought could take me in no longer can.

I'm mentally preparing myself for the end. I'm in no rush to die, but I believe the reaper is growing tired of waiting for me. I died years ago, as a child, my body just hasn't caught up yet.

Thank you to the friends who have helped me this far. I'm sorry that in the end, it was for nothing. I wanted this to have a happy ending. One where I heal, become a better person, and transition to my true self. But that isn't real. I'm a trash person. I'll die a trash person, surrounded by the trash in my car, buried with my trash dead name.

I still wish that he would have been violent with me. Maybe then my suffering would have ended sooner than having to live with his ghost.

[taraelghrimwilliams]

Every day is a little more painful than the last these days. I know that my choices lead me here. That my suffering is a creation of my own design. But I'm still tired. So very, very tired. I want her back. I would do anything. I would change anything about my identity. Fuck being trans, fuck being bi, I'd go back into the closet in a heartbeat if it meant having her back.

But life doesn't work that way. And as much as I want to beg and plead and grovel for her to give me another chance, I know that won't fix anything. Even if she did pity me enough to take me back, I'm still sick. I'm still useless. I'm still broken. This is why I'm still not sure if I want to get better for myself. I know I want to get better. And I know I have to let my ex go. But part of me is still clinging on to her.

Memories of Pokemon, how she gave me her shiny MewTwo back when X/Y were new, how I named a skitty after her and never evolved it since she thought Delcatty was less cute. Memories of Mass Effect, her absolute favorite game series back in the day, and how we would make jokes about some of the funnier quotes. Memories of the computer class we took together, which was how we met in the first place. How we would hold hands under the table during class.

Those happy memories sting like a cloud of hornets swarming at my heart. If I had just gotten myself together. I could have fixed things. I could have fixed myself. But I let myself sink too deep.

I still want to get better. But I don't know how. It's all so overwhelming. Especially when I feel like I don't deserve to get better. I've had years to get mental help for my PTSD. To get therapy to heal from my sexual assault as a child. But I didn't. I wallowed in it. I allowed it to control my life. I don't even know what parts of my personality are myself and what parts are the trauma. Maybe I never did.

How do I heal? How do I survive? How do I stop feeling like I deserve this? Do I deserve this? Has sixteen years of suffering in silence not been enough? If there really is a God, do you think they relish in my suffering? I hope so. At least then someone will benefit from this.

I keep bouncing between being hopeful and being hopeless. And more and more, it's been the latter. I hope one day I can look back on those memories without tearing up.

I'm sorry for rambling. I just needed to get this all out somewhere. Anywhere. Goodnight. Hopefully my heart will feel less cold when I wake up to the chilly interior of my car in the burning m morning. I can only hope...

[taraelghrimwilliams]

Finally, good news.

1/4/23

To my surprise, the charity organization I've been in contact with got back to me! Their website had mentioned budget cuts and only having been able to help about 40% of their applicants this year (or rather last year at this point), so I expected nothing to come from my application.

While they don't have the resources to immediately get me in to a shelter, they're working with other organizations in the area to try and figure something out for me. Our worst case scenario is that a friend of mine in Montana (over 20 hours from where I live) is willing to take me in. The person I was talking to said that if nothing else, she would look into getting me transportation there, as I and everyone I've talked to about my car agree that it likely wouldn't survive the long trip there.

I'm hoping that they can find something for me closer to where I live now. I don't have much here, but if something were to happen in Montana that would leave me in the same situation, I'd be completely boned with potentially no way back home, since I'm unsure if the charity's idea of getting me out there would include bringing my car or not.

I don't want to say I'm excited. Every time I've allowed myself to get excited, something has come up. At the very least, a turn of good news has been exactly what I needed.

[taraelghrimwilliams]

1/1/23

The new year is starting off... Confusing. My ex posted a new profile picture and she looks like she's already lost so much weight now that I'm not in her life. Of course I'm happy for her. She looks great. It's just... Hard. I always told her that I was holding her back. I was right.

I wish I could tell her how I feel. But there's not an easy way to do it. Especially since it'll feel like I'm trying to butter her up or flirt with her. As badly as I want her back, as badly as I want her to save me from living alone on the streets, I want her to be happy even more. And I don't think she can do that with me in her life. Or, at least, not the current me.

Maybe one day, I'll be someone deserving of her love and we'll try all over again. Or, maybe that's just wishful thinking. Either way, though it hurts, her happiness is what's important right now.

As for the situation with the charity organization, I've yet to hear anything back from them. I know it takes time to process people's information, but I'm starting to get worried, especially now that I'm out of money for the next week. I had to ask a local Domino's for food just to have a hot meal for dinner. Thankfully, the workers and manager on duty were amazing people who made me a fresh pizza and gave me water just to make sure I was taken care of.

Lastly, I've been looking into banks in the surrounding area. I need to make a new account soon. We're finally going to be closing the joint account. It's a real pain in the ass. Most of the ones around my town aren't very low income friendly. Hopefully I'll figure something out soon.

[taraelghrimwilliams]

Friends, family, random internet users who, for some reason or another, happened upon this page, welcome to my diary. Since it's hard to let every single friend know whenever something new happens in my life, I've decided to start a diary. This way, I can update those who care enough to keep updated. However, I'll still start this as I would a normal diary: by writing information about myself.

My name is Tara Elghrim Williams. I am twenty six years old, and I'm living out of my car in rural America. My only marketable skills, if you could call them as such, is my writing (which I'm told is above average despite me harshly disagreeing) and my graphic design work, which is still quite amateurish as I do it as a hobby, not a profession.

I am a trans woman who suffers from a multitude of mental health problems. Diagnosed, I have PTSD, OCD, anxiety, and depression. Through researching symptoms, I do believe that there is a possibility that I may suffer from ADD/ADHD, and it may be possible that I am also on the autism spectrum. However, as none of those have been diagnosed (due to lack of funds and insurance), I do not pretend that I definitely have any of them.

This all started around a year ago now. It was a single meme. Something about taking a bunch of Benadryl and getting high to see a shadow monster. I dismissed it as a joke, but eventually curiosity got the better of me. I got high off of them. And it uprooted my entire life.

Everything was strange. I didn't see monsters, but I felt calm. For the first time in years, I felt zen. And then I fell deeper into that high. My music was distorted. I could feel the vibrations rattling my very core. My body could barely move, I was physically unable to speak due to both my mouth being so relaxed and my mind being so, for lack of a better term, laggy. Nothing felt real anymore. It was as if I fell through reality and into a dream where existing didn't hurt anymore.

But of course, after falling asleep, I woke up to the aftermath of this kind of high. Everything was sore. Everything felt wrong. I felt wrong. I wanted to feel that way again. I had to feel that way again. So, I kept abusing allergy medication. I kept getting high behind my fiancee's back. Slowly but surely, this changed me. I became more secretive. I became distant. Eventually, I even became someone else entirely. Someone I've grown to despise.

I cheated on her. It wasn't physical, and I didn't even realize what I was doing in my drug addled state of mind. But it was true. I cheated on her. I was disgusted with myself, and planned to kill myself that same day. She gave me the older of our two cars, a kindness she didn't have to extend to me, and despite crushing her so thoroughly with my actions, she still stood by me and insisted that I go to my parents house instead of killing myself.

I wish I could have taken back the implication that I was going to end my life. Not because I wish I had gone through with it, but because she didn't deserve to have an even greater burden on her mind while going through something so devastating. Unfortunately for us both, I can't take back any of the actions I've taken, wish as I might.

That was around five months ago. Every day, the weight of my sins grows heavier upon my back. The worst part is not knowing why I truly feel this guilt. I want to believe that this guilt is because I truly regret my actions. I hurt the one person in this world that I ever saw myself marrying. The person who I would have given up everything to be with. My highschool sweetheart, my soul mate, and above all of that? My best friend.

But there's a nagging at the back of my head. Do I truly regret it? Or do I regret getting caught? Do I regret losing the woman who sacrificed so much to keep me happy and healthy because I appreciate what she did for me, or because it cost me the roof over my head? More importantly, why do I want to ease this burden of guilt? Do I truly just want her to heal from me harming her, or do I just want to feel good about myself, being able to pretend to the world that despite straying, I'm still a good person?

It kills me not being able to know.

From there, I lived with my father briefly. My stepmother was unreasonable as ever. Despite my plethora of health concerns, such as my tendency towards suicide while stressed and experiencing the most stress I've ever endured in my life, she insisted that I get a job within the month, or else I'd be kicked out. Eventually, as the aspect of holding down a job in my current mental state was unbearable and the deadline was drawing nearer, I made up a lie. I pretended to get a job to get her off of my back while I attempted to figure something else out.

My stepmother, though, is nothing if not the nosiest human being on the planet. Somehow, despite her busy schedule, she managed to find enough time to invade my privacy and snoop around where I claimed to work. She had a friend there that she asked about my employment with, which led to a massive fight.

I left that day, telling them both that I would rather die on the streets than ever live in the same house as her. Her years of mental and verbal abuse was too much for me to deal with anymore.

My plan then became to move in with a friend of mine, one who said they had the space for me and was willing to take me in. I would have to wait some time for them to figure out arrangements for me, so in the meantime, I left for Kentucky to stay with another friend temporarily.

Here, I'd like to take a small break from explaining the past to thank someone very dear to me. A friend that I'll call Sue for privacy reasons. Sue couldn't and still cannot take me in, but I absolutely would not be here today without their help. They've sent me more money and support than I could have ever expected from or asked of them. Without their help, I never would have made it to Kentucky, and I'd most certainly have died by now. If you're reading this, and I'm sure you will at some point, you really are a saint for helping me through these dark times.

I got to Kentucky without incident and met my roommates, a fellow trans woman who I'll call Jill, and a bisexual (or formerly bi turned gay? Unsure of which) man that I'll call Jack. Jack and Jill could only host be for about three-ish months, but hopefully, that would be more than enough time. I helped out with rent and groceries where I could, and as time went on, I got the bad news.

My friend who had previously offered to take me in had to rescind the offer. I don't remember if they told me what happened or if they purposefully left it vague, but I assume it had something to do with finances. Either way, that threw a wrench in my plans. A fairly large one at that. I used the rest of my time looking for a new plan while staying with Jack and Jill, and eventually contacted an old family friend. They were willing to help out! Great. I left Kentucky hopeful, but by the time I got back home, things had changed again.

An illness in the family meant money was going to be tight. And this meant that I was now living out of my car in a cold winter, mere days before Christmas, right before a blizzard was set to hit us. Thankfully, my dad was able to put me in a hotel for a little under a week, either five or six days. Long enough to wait out the negative fifty (with windchill) temperatures and the intense winter wind. During this time, my laptop charger broke, and I spent nearly half of my Christmas money getting new chargers that didn't work. Despite having charging cables that matched my port, none of them actually charged the damn thing, meaning I was now out of not only my only escape from reality, but my connection to charity organizations and government aid programs.

This last week has been one of the most eventful, as I've been rejected by one charity, found another, got pulled over by a literal saint of a police officer that helped me discover the previously mentioned charity, got to help a stranger jump their car in a gas station... Things are honestly changing so fast that its even hard for me to keep up with everything! That's all of the important bits about the past. Now, it's time to focus on the future.