At What Point Do I Accept That It’s Over For Me?

I’m slowly losing my mind.  Once again, the panic has set in as  the grim reality continues to unfold. I keep seeing news articles and all of them seem Io be bad.  These range from stripping away LGBT rights and anti-discrimination protections to taking away healthcare from those who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford it.

I didn’t get any responses to the emails I sent to the Canadian Consulate asking if I would be able to move to Canada. They probably saw them and had a good laugh, before hitting the ‘delete’ button.  I’m not going to raise my hopes, because miracles never happen to me.

My family know the situation here in the United States, but don’t seem at all concerned.  Therefore, going bask to the UK isn’t an option, even if I wanted to.  After Brexit, things aren’t much better there either and the future is almost as grim.  Going back for a third time would be sheer lunacy.

I would be more than willing to stay here and fight, but I am terrified of my rights and my transition being taken away from me.  If I knew that I’d have at least a few months to a year to continue the progress I’ve made with regards to my transition and mg mental health, I would be able to work and be independent again, thus taking control of my life.  The danger would exist in the form of greatly increased risk of harassment, assault or even murder, but if I managed to find a job, I could buy myself a great deal of protection, in terms of a car, a safe place to live and even a gun.

But if my transition is taken away from me, my life is over. It’s the reason why despite still experiencing suicidal thoughts, I have not acted on them.  Despite me feeling hopeless at times in the past, the progress I’ve made has kept me going, even during my darkest moments.  With ongoing therapy and finally finding a combination of medication that seems to be working (especially Adderall) for the first time in my pathetic existence, the future could have looked almost (dare I say if) promising.  I did not expect Trump to win and even if he did, I did not expect that his new administration will probably take away all of the things that have given me a reason to hope.

I am truly existing on borrowed time now. Holly, who is my only friend d here in Rochester is trying to convince me to hang on, because no change will happen overnight as such things generally take a long time here in the United States.  But we are dealing with an unknown – a president who isn’t a politician and senior members of his party such as VP-elect Mike Pence and House Speaker Paul Ryan that wan to decimate LGBT and women’s rights and healthcare for the poor and the elderly, respectively.

At what point should I simply give up and focus on planning my ‘end’?  I have already decided how I’m going to do it and where I’m going to do it.  All I’m going to say is that the location is far from here and the method should be 100% effective.  I’m not so stupid as to reveal anything else, because it will not be a cry for help and I do not wish to be stopped. But it is worth waiting any longer?  The best case scenario is that nothing much changes as far as thirds that Trump, Pence and Ryan have been pledging to do.  If I knew I was safe for at least another 12 months or so, I’d hunker down and continue my journey.  Within 12 months, I fully expect to be working again.  If I’m not working by that time or simply can’t find a job, my life would be essentially over anyway, regardless of who was in power.  Being perpetually unemployable would be a death sentence for me anyway.

So in summary, there are three things that would at least allow me to carry on as is:

1) That very little will change within the next 12 months with regards to healthcare entitlements and LGBT rights.

2) That by some miracle, Canada will allow me to move there and continue my journey in a much safer and more accepting society, with public healthcare that includes transgender procedures, which won’t be at risk of being taken away from me.

3) The possibility that Brexit in its most extreme form doesn’t happen and I find someone I can stay with in the UK until I’m back on my feet.

If any of those were truly possible, I might feel like I had a chance.  But those are unlikely and I have to decide at what point to I accept defeat and give up.  Needles to say, I’ve been even more afraid than usual to leave my hotel room.  Hatred has been legitimized both here and in the UK, only it’s far more dangerous here.

As a transgender immigrant with mental health issues living in the ‘New America’, my future looks extremely grim and terrifying.  Perhaps I should go while I still can. My life does not matter in this new era anyway.  I can’t deal with this, especially not as alone and scared as I am. 


Author: Becca

Dead to the world, dead inside.

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