Sometimes that light at the end of the tunnel is a train

There’s no light and the end of this tunnel, only infinite darkness or a light from a rapidly approaching train. The “It will get betters” lost any kind of meaning years ago. Transition was not only an attempt to be myself, but to save myself.

Why has it gone wrong? There’s no definitive answer, but it’s a combination of lack of trans-related support, legal and physical barriers, going from one bad living situation to another, the fact that my referral to the GIC has been lost and my own poor decisions. GRS seems so far out of reach, as does being able to get anything done to change my wretched male sounding voice. I realize that if it weren’t for my voice and my tallness, I would probably never be misgendered and would just be seen as an ugly woman. I would take that; even just changing my voice could be enough, as there are some cis women my height.

I’m trying really hard to be positive, but this plus the uncertainty of where I’m going to live and feeling extremely alone and isolated derails any positive train of thought very rapidly. If I could just find a place to live, that would be a good start. I’ve been at my mum’s 3 weeks on Friday and she and her husband are definitely suffering as a result of me taking up some of their space. I have asked (so-called) friends on Facebook if any of them can put me up for a few weeks, but none can. If we can’t find a flat, I know I’ll be made to go to a hostel with other homeless people. It seems that I am the only one that sees the danger in this. At the last hostel I stayed in, I had several problems with other residents, including having my stuff stolen, being told “it’s not natural”, deliberately misgendered, stared at and even grabbed inappropriately by a guy who walked past as I was bending down to get my clothes out of the communal tumble drier. I ended up abandoning my room, because my anxiety was so bad from all the issues and the noise of people constantly slamming doors. That was only a small 15 room hostel too; I hate to imagine what bigger hostels and shelters are like. In fact, the housing office at the local council here have already mentioned to my mum that there’s a “supported living” type hostel here, but it sounds like a place they send rehabilitated criminal offenders. I wouldn’t last 3 seconds in there. My former support worker in Lancashire tried to get me into a women’s refuge in Skelmersdale, but because I’m pre op, they had nowhere available to put me and I was told I had to respect that because of women and children there.

I am also dealing with massive amounts of guilt and sadness over my last relationship. I had to sever ties with my ex, but I sill care about her. Both her mother and her new girlfriend blame me for the situation she’s in now, which has just added further to the weight of guilt that I carry. I always seem to cause problems wherever I go, including here where I am in the way. No one can seriously tell me that killing myself would be “selfish” and that it’s not fair on other people. Actually, it would be an unselfish decision as it would free my family and few half-friends of the burden and it would prevent me from cursing anyone else’s life. My transition and the lie caused my ex wife several nervous breakdowns and I am such a disease that my ex girlfriend is now in hospital due to mental health issues, many of which were caused by me being a worthless friend and worthless girlfriend.

I’m trying hard to keep going and resist the urge, but it’s becoming a losing battle. I can’t take any more blows. I feel like I’ll never hear from the Gender Identity Clinic and that even if I did, there would still be too much of a wait for surgery to save the few years of youth (so it seems) that I’ve got left. I need two things to happen within the next week; 1) acknowledgement from the GIC that I will be seen and 2) a stable place to live. I have to impose a deadline on my existence, at this stage. I simply cannot go on living this way or being a burden to others.

If you’ve got this far, thank you for reading. Please refrain from leaving abusive comments, even though I deserve it.  

“Sometimes that light at the end of the tunnel is a train” – Charles Barkley


Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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