Loneliness and social isolation make recovery from mental illness almost impossible

I’ve got into a few arguments with people in the past who denied that having the support of family, friends and / or a partner made recovery from mental illness far easier for them than it would have been if they were alone.  I’ve observed over a number of years that the people who recover or learn to live with their illnesses usually have a reason to, i.e. a partner, children, friends and a supportive family.  I’m not taking away anything from them as far as recovery goes, because recovery isn’t easy and requires a lot of hard work and dedication, but recovery depends on the support of others, not just mental health professionals.

I often feel a mix of emotions even when people do attribute some of their recovery to having love and support in their lives.  While I’m glad that they’re not in my position as I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, I cannot help but feel somewhat envious of them, because I know that having the support of friends, family and a partner would help me immensely.  Instead, I get told to love myself before I can love another, or I’m told to work on myself and accept loneliness.  Yet lots of broken people who don’t love themselves and hate themselves as much as I do seem t o manage to be in relationships.

Mental illness in itself is a lonely experience, which is why it’s vital to have support.  Loneliness and social isolation are bad, with or without mental health issues and whether you’re an introvert like me or an extrovert that has far more of a need to socialize regularly.  But it’s a vicious cycle, because the more mentally ill you become, the more you tend to isolate and the more you tend to repel people who decide that they cannot handle being around you.

So if you’re lucky enough to have the support of people who value you, please do not take it for granted, even if you often feel lonely around them because they may not understand exactly what you’re going through.  Trust me, it could be so much worse if you were socially isolated and trapped inside your mind 24/7.  Also, please don’t judge lonely people for being less able to recover than you were.  Many of us give up because we simply have no one to exist for and no voices of reassurance, just our own dark and destructive thoughts.

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Too much chaos (UK trip, moving or not moving)

As the prices of Transatlantic flights seem to be increasing, I booked my return flight, even though I was going to wait until I’d safely arrived in the UK first.  I am flying back to Toronto, rather than New York City.  I’ve never been to Toronto before (or Canada for that matter) so I’m already worried, bur it makes more sense as Toronto is far closer geographically than either New York City or Boston and I wanted to avoid flying back via New York JFK due to past awful experiences with Homeland Security.  If the UK trip goes well and I manage to do a lot despite my anxiety, I may even stay in Toronto for 3-4 days before returning to Rochester.  I’ve heard good things about the city, including it being pretty open minded and diverse.

I feel like my mum is already trying to get rid of me for some of the time that I’d be staying with her, because she keeps asking me if I’m seeing anyone else while I’min the UK.  I don’t know what part of “I don’t have any friends” she doesn’t understand, but it feels like she doesn’t want me there sometimes.  She keeps insisting that I visit my dad’s ex wife (someone I’ve always been close to), but I am scared to do that because when I last saw her, she kept referring to me by my old (male) name and that was causing me a great deal of distress.  I don’t think I could deal with that again, especially as she’s known my proper name for years and I feel like she doesn’t even try.

There’s a new complication now with my housing situation.  It seems that the 2 women I met last week want me to move in to their house, but I can’t tie them down to meeting up to discuss it further.  I had given up on the idea, because one of them works for the organization that provides my housing and at the time, she was convinced there’d be a conflict of interest and that she’d get in trouble if she were living with a client / former client of her organization.  But that isn’t the case, although now I’ve moved back into my supportive housing apartment and I certainly won’t be able to do anything before I leave for the UK as I have too much to do and I haven’t even started to pack yet..

I saw both my care manager and my therapist today and discussed the plan for when I get back, which is to get me into vocational rehabilitation in order to help me navigate the education system and seek full time employment.  I also met with one of the staff on my housing program, who said that I can stay here just as a tenant if I didn’t want to be part of the actual program itself, which isn’t suitable for me anyway as I don’t have living skills needs.

I’ve done a lot today and I’m shattered, especially as I barely slept last night.  Tomorrow I have to talk to someone on the phone from the NY Division of Human Rights about my discrimination case case and I’m dreading that, as I hate talking on the phone.  I have managed to defer the pre-settlement hearing conference, but they want to talk to me about it.

The ugly truth (de-transition)

I honestly wish that I could just erase my gender identity from my mind and de-transition.  I don’t like being transgender and I’m not proud of it – I hate every second of it.  It’s not that I am unsure of my identity, because I’m as sure of my femininity as I’ve always been, even though I spent most of my life hiding it.  But ultimately, I’ll never be physically female with a female reproductive system.  This will still be the case, even if I win the lottery and can afford all the surgeries I’d need to feel comfortable in my own skin.

I do not agree with the push for ‘visibility’ that the transgender community seems to engage in, because I’m sure that like me, the vast majority of transgender people don’t want to be visible and would rather be as invisible (cis-looking) as possible.  The drive for visibility has actually done harm, because it’s no coincidence much of the backlash against transgender people has occurred since, including ‘bathroom bills’ and presidents wanting to ban transgender people from serving in the military.   I’ve been ‘being myself’ (stupid term) for over 3 years now and I’ve noticed that I’ve felt so much more unsafe over the last year or so.

For me, the big question is “Why transition if people are still going to see you as the sex you were assigned at birth?”/  One of the key goals of physical transition is so that people see you as your true gender identity and treat you as such.  It’s easy to say that you shouldn’t care what people think of you and not to let them define you, but with gender, that is extremely difficult, or in my case, impossible.  Believe it or not, aside from transition, I really don’t care what people think of me at all.  Having been bullied and picked on for most of my life and having missed the proverbial boat, I accepted that I’m ugly,, worthless and a loser a long time ago and such words couldn’t hurt me.

The more visible you are, the more likely you are to face issues such as harassment, loneliness, discrimination, unemployment and homelessness. Transgender people who complain about being “outed” occasionally really don’t know how lucky they are, because others have to deal with being “out” (or rather, visible) on a permanent basis.  When you’re visibly transgender, your Achilles heel is there for all to see and for all to attack.  It takes more than a thick skin to deal with the perils that come with being visible.

The transgender community has never been a supportive place for me and I gave up on it long ago.  It is little more than a hierarchy of beauty, age and “passability” and is rife with individual narcissism.  Activism is almost solely geared towards and centered around transgender kids / youth and the beautiful people.  Images of beautiful transgender women are sold to the cisgender world to make us look ‘normal’, but it does nothing to help those who don’t measure up to cisgender beauty standards and in fact, this makes things a hell of a lot worse for us.  Perhaps instead of pushing for visibility (which is nothing more than a cop out) more should be done to help people physically transition so that they don’t have to suffer the consequences and the dangers of being visible.

As for my own transition, I couldn’t feel any more hopeless about it if I tried.  While I’m not built like someone assigned male at birth, I’m too tall to be a woman thanks to Beckwith-Wiedemann Syndrome and my voice probably won’t change much with speech therapy.  I was ugly as a male, but I’m even uglier as a female.  I hate things about myself that I didn’t even notice before transition.  I’m terrible with makeup and because I have pretty severe dyspraxia, after over 3 years of practice and countless people trying to teach me techniques,, I’m not going to get any better at it.   Although I was lucky enough not to have any body hair, I cannot say the same about my face.  I’ve been having electrolysis for almost every week since the beginning of August and progress has been frustratingly slow and it’s expensive and is extremely painful.

Transition has been nothing more than swapping one form of prison for another, both being equally as bad in their own way.  While I’ve no desire to return to the former prison, I honestly wish that I could, just to be considered a human being again and someone able to hide their weaknesses from the rest of the world.

My dysphoria has been very bad over the last few months and much of it has been caused by other people and their bigoted and cruel, yet honest opinions of me and the recent misgendering.  Please don’t tell me that I shouldn’t care what people think, because it’s far more complicated than that and such comments show a lack of understanding, even if they are intended to be good and supportive.  But what will ultimately push me to take my own life will be my own dysphoria and final acceptance that it’s never going to get better, only worse.  Even in a world that completely accepted me and treated me as female, I’d still be very unhappy with my appearance and my voice.  If the outside world doesn’t get the better of me, the war between my mind and body ultimately will.

I can’t even look forward to my return to the UK, because I’m dreading being publicly misgendered at the airport and on the plane.  Traveling causes me enough anxiety as it is, but this take it to a whole new level in which I dread it.  I can’t take any more negativity, even if it’s ‘accidental’ in nature.  I shouldn’t even be taking this trip,to be honest.

In summary, being seen as a man in a dress is far worse than being seen as a man.  At least the latter doesn’t make you stand out or cause you to be subjected to harassment, marginalization, endless misgendering and discrimination throughout your life, all of which never get easier and just grind away at you.

“If you should die before me ask if you could bring a friend”

Electrolysis was immensely painful again for some reason.  It was especially had towards the end when I was literally crying.   She un-reassueed me that I still have “loads” left, which just added to my current sense of homelessness regarding my transition.  I wouldn’t have made it at all if my friend hadn’t come and picked me up and I hated even having to ask him, because he’s done more than enough for me lately, while all I’ve done is cause him trouble.  

I find myself missing my ex-wife again.  She’s the only person I’ve ever truly loved and the only person to have ever loved me or understood me.  I wish I’d never pit her through the hell of my depression and anxiety, my alcoholism and my transition.  I not only neglected her needs, but I betrayed her trust in me.  I know she’d be angry if she knew that I still loved her, but I cannot change that.  I truly believe we’d be together for the rest of our lives, but I fucked that up.  She was my best friend, my lover, my soulmate and my family.  

I know that I shouldn’t keep listening to songs that remind me of her, but I can’t help that either, because they remind me of a time in my life when (as fucked up as I was), I had a purpose and a future.  I mentioned the other day how pleased I was that Stone Temple Pilots had found a new lead singer….well this is a video of him singing one of my favorite STP songs, ‘Still Remains’   This song reminds me of the love I still have for my ex-wife and he sings it so beautifully:

Back to square zero

I barely managed 2 hours’ worth of sleep last night and I’ve been up and wake since 3am.  My insomnia is well and truly back with a vengeance and I’m really starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation again.  I slept so much better when I was staying with my friend, even after the stress caused by his wife walking out and blaming me.   At least I know that I don’t need pills to sleep…I just need a far more suitable place to live.

The brief optimism I felt about my overall living situation has all but disappeared.  I thought I’d found a suitable place, but they haven’t responded to me and I’ve given up hope.  It seemed like they wanted me to move in, but I’m guessing that they’ve found someone more suitable and ‘normal’.  The room that my friend took me to see on Saturday has an application process and it was a bit above my price range anyway.  It was also in the same neighborhood as my friend, which sounds good, except that I’d run the risk of running into his wife (I never want to see her again).  I leave for the UK in just 4 days and Thanksgiving Day is one of the days in-between, so I really don’t want to stress myself out any more than I already am by continuing to look for a room.

While I can’t live alone, I’m not even sure if I can live with other people either.  It’s not that I have a problem with others or that I’m difficult to live with, but I’m too much of a weirdo and I’m too socially awkward for the vast majority of people, neurotypical or not.  Aside from my ugliness, I do wonder what it is about me that repels people or makes them treat me poorly.  Maybe if I knew the answer, I could either try to fix it (if it’s fixable) or use it as another reason to give up on life.

I have electrolysis this afternoon, but I feel far too anxious to leave my apartment.  The momentum that I had last week which enabled me to go out almost every day seems to have disappeared and I’m back to being shit-scared again.   I could try using Uber instead of taking the bus, but I’m just as anxious about doing that because the driver might judge me or try to make conversation with me.

Inward-bound

*** TRIGGER WARNING ***

 Even when I’m not feeling depressed, I would still choose to die over anything else.  The only difference is that on the non-bad days, I manage to push suicidal ideation far enough to the back of my mind where it’s not quite so intrusive.

Yesterday was one of those non-bad days.  My friend came and picked me up and took me to see another room being rented out.  He brought the dog with him and it was nice to see them both.  He also took me grocery shopping and to a few thrift stores to look for a dresser for me, but we couldn’t find anything suitable.  I did buy a purse though, to replace the one that was broken by either the police or the hospital staff during my brief but frightening stint in the psychiatric emergency department last Sunday.

When I got back, I was sufficiently burned out to be content with just recharging in my apartment and I managed to keep myself somewhat distracted by watching Netflix and listening to music.  I didn’t sleep well last night, mostly because the bed here is extremely uncomfortable and my mind started racing.  I had at least 2 PTSD-induced nightmares, the latter of which has left me with a lingering but dull feeling of nausea and dread.  Life doesn’t stop tormenting me, even when I’m asleep and wishing that I could be dreaming of something else, rather than having nightmares that are warped versions of past experiences and present fears.

My mood has come crashing down back to reality today, as I find myself trapped inside my mind again, subjected to an endless cycle of negative and self-destructive thoughts that I cannot distract myself from.  I feel so utterly hopeless about everything, from my transition to my chances of ever getting better and experiencing some semblance of a normal life which includes a few of the things that normal people seem to just take for granted.

I’m sure that everyone wishes there was something about themselves that they could change or fix, but in my case, there’s simply too much that needs ‘fixing’ before I’d even feel comfortable in my own skin or feel able to face life and deal with living life.  On my non–bad days, I have all these grandiose ideas about going to school, working again, moving back to the UK and even (*gasp*) the possibility of finding love, but those things are so far beyond what I’ll ever be able to achieve, given my limitations.  While I don’t struggle to get out of bed like many people who suffer from depression, I struggle to go out and even doing the bare minimum leaves me feeling burned out.  Going out and being surrounded by a bunch of normal people just reminds me of what I will never have and who I’ll never be.  I can no longer manage my dysphoria, because of the multiple instances where my gender identity has been attacked or subjected to intentional or (worse) unintentional misgendering.

I didn’t exactly fit in before transition, but I was lucky enough to have a partner and at least a friend or two, plus I was invisible to people who didn’t matter to me in the outside world.  Transition has caused me to become marginalized and socially isolated, more so than ever before.  I not only see my own ugliness in the mirror, but being on the outside and looking in, I see the ugliness of the human race too.  I just want the pain to end and I want to be gone forever.  If there was a pill that I could take right now to end my life quickly and painlessly, I would take it without hesitation.  I’m not afraid of death, but I am afraid of the pain of dying.

I’m not thinking beyond spending 2 weeks with my mother back in the country that I once called “home”.   I can’t even look forward to it, because I’m terrified of being misgendered or harassed on the journey and I’m just not mentally able to deal with that.  Beyond my trip and spending time with my mother, I see no logical reason to continue existing.

RANT: Why I don’t like being called “cute”

It was validating, at least at first.  While I’m always grateful when people gender me correctly, it’s started to really bother me when men call me “cute” or “adorable” or any word usually used to describe a child or a pet.  I have also been described as “the girl next door” and since transition, I’ve noticed that many people no longer treat me as an adult with a mind of my own.  I am very appreciative when people are sincere and see something about me (or just plain lie) when they call me “beautiful” or just “a woman”.

I feel like I’m giving people the wrong impression of me and of the kind of woman that I am, but I am torn between wanting to dress ‘young’ because I missed out on so many years and still wishing to be treated as the 30-something grown-ass woman that I am..  My personality isn’t actually that girly and I’m not overly feminine (I’d probably present less femme if I weren’t transgender and could get away with it).

I just find it demeaning and borderline creepy when men call me cute, especially much older men.  If you can’t treat me as an adult and as an equal, fuck off.  It is a form of patriarchy and I hate it.