Actual conversation I had today:
Manager: The bandage on your nose doesn’t look too bad.
Me: Yeah. It just makes me feel like I had plastic surgery!
Manager: Yeah, well I am sure that isn’t the first place you would start huh? *laughter*
Me: Guess not. *silently thinks to myself if he were making a joke about my transsexuality*
Actual conversations I have with myself:
“Are you sure you are a woman? You do look so manly still. Maybe you should stop now and just deal with it.”
“Notice how that man called yous sir? You will never pass as a female.”
“Do you think that God lets people like you into heaven?
“Why the hell would a man ever want to be with you? You don’t dress girly. You don’t look all that feminine. You are too tall. Your feet and hands are too big. You can see your facial hair up close. Men only like girls who they can take out in the daylight or show off to their parents. Do you think that that person is you?
“Isn’t it weird how you have never had a real boyfriend and the only men that are interested in you and talk to you are the ones who message you online asking for sexual favors and initiating sexually fueled conversations? Maybe that is all you will be good for to a man. Be prepared to be alone the rest of your life.”
“You will never be able to come out to your mom because you know she is very against any of “that stuff” and would disown you before she would ever even begin to think about even possible accepting or seeing you as anything other than her first born
“You will never get a job doing what you love because you will never pass as a female and no one would even want you as a man because you can’t even pass as that. You are a freak. You act so strong and give such great advice to everyone else and tell them to be who they are and don’t worry what anybody else thinks but you can’t even take your own advice you hypocrite! You should be so very ashamed of yourself.”
Unfortunately, one of the many potential consequence of transitioning, and even just being human, is depression and unfortunately, mine is coming back. I have never really properly dealt with my depression as I have never found a therapist close enough that has experience with the trans community and I do not feel that I have anyone close enough that I trust to vent to. Those that I do trust enough to vent to who live far away from me are too precious to me for me to risk burdening them with my petty problems.
I know depression isn’t petty. I know as a psychology major that depression is a very serious disorder that can take control over a person’s life. I know as a competent and sensible person that I have people who I can talk to. I know as a transsexual that the risk for depression related to transition is very serious and that I should find a trusted professional to entrust my physical and mental health to so as to ensure the most positive and healthy transition for myself. Despite knowing all these things I still cannot find a way out of this slump.
I have been battling depression for many years now. Before, I never knew the exact causation of my depression and cannot say that it is one single thing or that I know all the catalysts for it. It comes and goes in wave. Some days are really good. Some weeks. Some months. Then the bad days, weeks, months come and I feel myself drowning again. And then it is gone.
I have never really had anyone that I could really talk to about this. It is not that I do not trust certain people. Without trying to sound too saintly, I really hate the thought of burdening my loved ones with my problems as I fear that it will cause them to become depressed. I also feel that it may cause others to look at me as weak, pathetic, or even unstable. It is the stigma attached with any mental disorder that causes me to remain silent, but I am putting an end to this. I refuse to allow myself to wallow away in my sorrow and misery. I refuse to allow myself to saturate in my sadness. Instead, I am speaking out here, not in the hopes that I may reach someone and become a beacon of light to them or them to me, although this would be a very great thing, but simply to vent and have a little mini-therapy session (selfish of me I know!).
If you are reading this, thank you for reading it. I know talking about this subject may make others feel uncomfortable, but I hope that anyone, regardless of being trans or not, who has little to no insight into depression may be able to simply get an outside view of it. It doesn’t have to enlighten you or teach you something, but it is important that it is witnessed.
I am lucky, though. I feel the this makes me human and that it, in some way, connects me to this world and to the rest of humanity. In some ways this suffering is transformed into some beauty. Maybe not a joyous beauty, but more of a sad, real, gritty beauty that can only be experience in the reality of humanity’s shadow. I am lucky, too, because I can see past my pain and look towards a brighter tomorrow. I am not riddles with the parasitic killer that is suicide. Unfortunately, a lot of other imperfectly perfect souls out there weren’t so lucky. So instead of feeling sorry for myself, I remember you guys, and so as to not let your guys’ departure from this world be in vain, I battle on to that brighter tomorrow and look forward to another blessed day filled with whatever God decides to gift me with.