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Queer as me – Part 16: Cold sleep and coming home

Queer as me – Part 16: Cold sleep and coming home

This post is PART 16 in a guest blogger series following author Rachael's transition from an A.M.A.B (Assigned Male at Birth) individual to that of a self-identified trans woman.

If you are just discovering Queer as me, start the story from the beginning here.



Sleeping in a busy 7-11 parking lot was almost impossible, futile at best. So, after an hour of trying to sleep, I open my eyes and turned my car on. Thankfully after all that driving she started strong. So, I downed the last of the pop, and started for Calgary once more. The wind had died down, and with a renewed sense of purpose, I was able to drive more or less awake, thank goodness for caffeine. I finally arrived in Calgary around two in the morning, and the next hurdle was trying to find where I needed to go. My mom had recently moved and so I prodded my exhausted mind to remember the address she had given me over the phone.



Because I was hampered by tired eyes and snow covering side streets I ended up driving past it twice, before I rolled up to what I thought was her home. I couldn’t find a number anywhere on the house yet it had to be the place. It was so cold out, and I was shivering as I rang the doorbell. I heard dogs barking, but after a few minutes no answer. I thought I might have gotten the wrong address, and my mind was like a block of ice, I decided to sleep in the car. At least if I was mistaken, I would try again when it was lighter out.



I let the car run, turning the heater on full blast, which wasn’t much because the heater didn’t work on the best of days. But I didn’t want to run out of the little gas I had left, so I turned the engine off hoping that it was warm enough to sleep. I closed my eyes and thought at least I was safe for a little while. My exhausted body took me into sleep quickly, and I knew nothing else.



Now I know that it was foolish at the very least to do what I did, and I plead my tired brain couldn’t see the harm in it. But as I found out later, it was the wrong idea.



It was around five or so in the morning when I awoke shivering, and my hands and feet numb from cold. I could barely move; my arms and legs didn’t seem to respond to any of my brains commands to move them. As adrenaline pushed my blood through legs and hands, the pain was immense, it was like I was on fire. As I was about to reach for the keys, I noticed that they had fallen on the floor, probably after I fell asleep. As I tried to push the key into the ignition, I saw a light go on above me in a small kitchen window. I knew that I had to get inside, as my body couldn’t take much more of this abuse.



So, with a little trepidation, and coupled with complete utter exhaustion I climbed the stairs to the front door. I ran the bell and hoped that I was right, or at least I could get some help in finding the correct address.



Thank goodness it was my mom at the door. She thought that I’d just arrived, as I stammered that I had fallen asleep in the car, she bade me come in, but I couldn’t leave my desktop computer to freeze in this incredibly cold weather, and so I went back down tired but relived that I made it here safe, cold, but in one piece. I came inside not noticing the beautiful house, but just numb from cold and tired to the bone. She gave me a hug which felt so good my body trembled and I almost cried.



As she led me to her spare bedroom, I tried not to stumble, and wake anybody else. She said that all she had was a futon, but by that time I could have slept on the floor as long as I got warm. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open as I felt her place a blanket over me and kissed my forehead. As I drifted off to sleep, I heard her whisper that she loved me. I was finally home.






Editor’s Note: To read Queer as me – Part 17: Proving yourself all over again, click hereOr click here to read the previous blog post Queer as me – Part 15: Second Chances, For the latest LSOP blog posts and so much more, make sure to add us on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.


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