Homelessness

Update…

I’m not going to go into specifics, but I’ve gone to stay with my mum for a while to remove myself from a situation that was causing difficulty from all involved.   My depression has worsened, my dysphoria is still a monster and I have no hope left for the future.

I have to spend the next few days deciding how I want to live, where I want to live (and with who) and if I have to live at all.   I swear, after 5 years of moving from place to place, state to state, country to country and one bad situation to another, I’m tired.

The GIC have definitely lost my referral.  My support worker with the Lancashire crisis team was able to ascertain this.  Charing Cross GIC are taking referrals now from September 2015, meaning my January 2015 referral has been lost.  I have written them a letter explaining the damage this has done to my mental health in the hope that I won’t have to go to the back of the queue again, but I feel like it will be futile.

The frustrating thing is that most people don’t understand.  I still have to hear platitudes about “acceptance” and “no one cares what you look like” 3 years on.  It makes me feel like a failure, transition wise.  I have to hear or read about other transgender people who’ve had their surgery or are having it soon, which also sends my mood spiraling down.  I had one post op trans woman literally reject me on a dating site because I told her I was pre op, even though I wasn’t even interested in her romantically.   I am tired of explaining to people that I am STILL pre op after nearly 3 years on hormones and finally attempting to be true to myself.

Every relationship I have breaks down, because I think I’m not good enough or ugly.  I push friends and family away, because I am easily triggered and can easily misinterpret words as “Rebecca, you look like a man”.   I hate my body so much that I can’t even beat anyone touching me in any way, so relationships are out of the question.

I don’t even know what to do next.  I know my priority has to be finding accommodation, but I can’t self advocate anymore and I don’t think people understand that.  I would consider going back to New York where I was at least getting support, advocacy and regular counseling and had 2 friends who never got sick of me.  However, I still have a male legal name and gender in America and changing it would require months of waiting, dealing with USCIS (I am a permanent resident) and finding legal help, which was not possible when I was there last time.   I just don’t see the system helping me here either.  Due to the way I come across (as highly functional) I’ll probably be declared fit for work and thrown into something I simply can’t handle at the moment.

I honestly just pray for this nightmare called “life” to be over, as soon as possible.  I have never experienced real or prolonged happiness because of this trans-curse and the mental health issues and self destruction it has caused. If there was a pill I could take to just end it, I would. I am physically healthy for some reason, but I have this constant pain inside and what society sees as an invisible illness, or an excuse.

I’m not hoping for any kind of help anymore.  I only post here now as a blog, which gets simultaneously posted to Facebook and Twitter.  I am hoping that my story gets read and perhaps things change in the future, so that no one has to go through what I went through and what I’m going through now.   Whatever happens to me, I hope this counts for something.

Despite that, I am eternally grateful to friends, family and allies who have stood by me.  Without them, I wouldn’t have even made
It this far.  But ultimately, it seems hopeless.  Those who know me will understand why, when I decide to call it quits and become a statistic.

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Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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