(Un)comfortably numb

“Uncomfortably numb” is the best way to describe how I’m feeling now (the Pink Floyd song “Comfortably Numb” is stuck in my head).  I cried a lot yesterday, contemplated self-harm and lashed out at people on Facebook who were just trying to help.  Today I’m just numb; tired, yet unable to sleep.

I woke from a particularly vivid nightmare which involved both my younger brothers transitioning to female.  They looked 100% passable and much prettier than me.  They were living in Southern California.  I recall wanting to kill myself by trying to jump from a highway bridge onto another hoghway, but then I woke up in a state of panic.  I hate the fact that I continue to be tortured by life, even when I’m asleep. 

I tried to watch England play Slovakia in a soccer game yesterday, but I found it boring.  I used to be to soccer, but it was a “male” interest I had just to appear nornal and to fit in.   I really wasn’t interested in it at all, except for the connections I could make with others because of it. 

I went to the post office with my mother earlier to mail the letter and both forms to the Gender Identity Clinic.  I sent it via special delivery, so it gets tracked and someone has to sign for it.  We also went to the GP’s office to make an appointment as I’m going to need a new sick note.  We briefly went to Sainsbury’s supermarket, where I almost had a panic attack because I got hit by a wave of social anxiety and unease over my height and my voice.  I had to go and wait outside and catch my breath.  I don’t think anyone noticed me imploding.

I got back around 11:30 and made a vegetarian chili for later and watered the plants outside.  I would have stayed out there and sat in the garden, but I don’t know the neighbors here and they might wonder who I am. 

While I was in the car with my mum, she seemed anxious over the money she is having to lend me for the flat I’m supposed to be moving into at the end of July.  She’s having to use her savings and I feel awful about it.  Neither of us can get hold of my dad, who seems to have vanished or perhaps he’s back in hospital.   She was complaining that it’s all falling on her shoulders, but there’s not much I can say.  I don’t have the money myself, I can’t stay with her anymore and the chances of me finding a suitable job would he slim, even if I were well enough to work. 

I can stay where I’m at until my mum’s friend comes back on Thursday next week.  Then I can probably stay at my mum’s one more week, as they’re going to be away.  After that, who knows?  I don’t knkw anyone that I can stay with, the rest of my family don’t want to know (or know me).  I hate that I am a living burden.   I’m still thinking along the lines of suicide as the only way to end my pain and to cease being a burden.   I don’t expect anyone reading this to agree with me, I don’t want pity or to be told the usual “It will get better” bullshit that I’m tired of hearing. 

I’m severing ties with all transgender people on my Facebook too.  I want nothing to do with the transgender community and I’ve given up hope of finding transgender friends of similar age and who don’t talk about transition and “passing” non-stop, which is borderline narcissism.

I don’t have anything else to say.  I’m going to just lie down, put my music on, close the curtains and close my eyes to try to drown out the world and my own thoughts.  


Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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