It’s looking like I’m not going to be able to actually ‘talk’ to another human being until Wednesday, when I go to my clinic. I’m sorry that I have to keep repeating myself like a stuck record, but I am truly scared, so this isn’t a time when I should be alone and isolated.
Some have suggested that I join a group or volunteer, but those things are not possible right now because of my anxiety and the fact that I’m relatively stranded in a motel, far from everything. I don’t know the bus system here and moreover, I don’t feel safe on buses here. For good reason too – I’ve already had a couple of ‘frights’ either on a bus, waiting for a bus or being harassed outside the transit center here in Rochester.It looks unlikely that my friend is going to come today at all. While I’m still very upset with her for calling the cops on me, she has my coat that my mum sent in the mail from England, which I need as it’s turned cold here. I wish she (and her sister)) hadn’t encouraged me to ‘try again’ here in Rochester in the first place, though I’m a big girl, so I take responsibly for my decision to leave the UK and the support of my mum and dad, to end up alone here. I wish people wouldn’t say they’ll be there for you, when they don’t. I didn’t come here to be alone and isolated and I didn’t expect Trump to actually win, as he was always behind in the polls.
I wish I had friends here, or someone I could turn to for help and a shoulder to cry on. Being able to spend time with friends is good for my mental health. It makes me feel at least somewhat human and my problems tend to shift further towards the back of my mind.
This is the first time that I wish that I didn’t feel so ostracized from the transgender and wider LGBT community. I don’t even fit in among other marginalized people, which is utterly soul destroying and it’s all on me for being too ugly or too whatever else that repels people. I really wanted to go to that LGBT gathering yesterday in support of the gay couple that had their pride flag burned. As anxious as I am about crowds, it would’ve been good for me, even just to get out and feel like I was doing something good, rather than rotting away alone in a motel room, desperate for human company.
The only ‘positive’ of no one caring that much about you is that I’m able to ‘disappear’ now to do what I ultimately may have to do, without anyone noticing for days. That freedom is somewhat comforting, especially as the future is now more bleak than it’s been at any time in my existence. Loneliness over the holiday period or harassment would probably be enough to send me sufficiently over the edge.
Many good things have come to an end or have taken a drastic turn for the worse in 2016. A disproportionate number of famous people that I liked died this year: David Bowie, Prince, Alan Rickman to name but a few. The UK voted to leave the European Union (Brexit) and the United States elected Donald Trump. One of my favorite bands, Kent announced they’re disbanding after releasing their final album. That may seem trivial, but their songs have helped get me through some very difficult times.
It’s time to shit or get off the pot, as they say. What am I even doing here? My existence serves absolutely no purpose. I have no children, no partner and essentially no friends, apart from internet friends. Even if Trump hadn’t won and Brexit hadn’t happened, I’d still be left with my ugliness and nothing to look forward to, just getting older and uglier still.
At this point, I’m nothing but a worthless drain on society and on individuals. I would achieve far more by taking my own life. Although I have few real friends, I’m well known as an online presence. My death would make a statement on behalf of other marginalized people who are struggling. I’d not only end my own pain, but my story would hopefully be immortalized to help others and someone with a willingness to live could be helped instead of me. Suicide wouldn’t be selfish of me – it would be the most unselfish thing I’ve ever done and could possibly do.
I’m not so stupid as to announce it, when that time comes. I won’t tell anyone or even give any hints. The advantage of talking about it so much is that eventually, no one will believe that you’ll actually do it. That will work to my advantage, as will the fact that it’ll be days before anyone even realizes that I’m gone.
I want it to make a statement though. It’ll be a ‘fuck you’ to those who’ve tormented me and others like me. It’ll be me voting to ‘opt out’ of a society that I’m not welcome in, rather than either conform to its norms or suffer through fear and loneliness, as a punishment for merely being authentic and real.
I would have loved to have been able to achieve something for myself and fight for the causes that I believe in, or even lead. But I was doomed from the day I was (mistakenly) born; cursed with the wrong body, a pretty severe form of Beckwith-Wiedemann syndrome, which caused various hideous deformities and caused me to be abnormally tall, despite having a tiny body frame. Add to that, various mental illnesses that were due to chemical imbalances and the damage done by a lifetime of being bullied, harassed, excluded, rejected and controlled.
I need to die this year; before that manic and his team of psychopaths and sociopaths take charge and before I get another year older. I’ve had enough now – I’m not irrational or wanting to die as a knee-jerk reaction. It won’t get better – it’ll get a whole lot worse. Don’t guilt trip me into staying anymore, because I don’t matter. Those who truly know me will understand why I *had* to do it and they’ll be relieved that I’d be at peace and removed from danger and uncertainty.
Give up on me, because I’ve given up on myself. It’s just borrowed time now. Thank you for reading and (hopefully) understanding, if you’ve got this far.