The snow which started falling around 6am yesterday morning hasn’t stopped, although it’s been reduced to flurries. The snow and wind have ruthlessly stripped the trees outside of most of their dead or dying autumn leaves. Winter is definitely here and here to stay and i am ill prepared for it.
Because of the snow and absence of suitable clothing, I most likely won’t be going anywhere until Wednesday, when a cab will pick me up and take me to the clinic. I have therapy and my once a week, six hours worth of being around other human beings in a controlled and safe environment. For the other 162 hours a week, I am cut off and isolated.
Since my mum has ruled out helping me get back to England in any way and my dad has failed to make contact, I’m out of options. She keeps telling me not to worry about losing my healthcare and my rights, because it hasn’t happened yet. I don’t want to wait until it does happen, without at least some sort of assurance that I’ll be able to leave and return to England, if and when the shit hits the fan here. She made it very clear once again that she will not help me, even if I lose my healthcare and my rights:
My mum cannot ask me to not take my own life, given the dire circumstances that I find myself in. I understand that no parent wants their child to die before them, but she cannot expect me to continue living if I am forced to give up my transition. This has been the only thing that has ultimately kept me from taking my life. Transition gave me a slither of hope, which is gone now. It allowed me to not hate my body as much as I did and allowed me to stop living a lie. Even the risk of it all being taken away by the very anti-LGBT Trump administration is enough to send me over the edge, as it is already doing. My mum can no longer use guilt as a means to prevent me from ending my life. Maybe that’s harsh, but that’s how it is from here until the end.
I’m not sure what to do about my friend Holly. She says she cares about me, but there’s a huge conflict of interest. I am angry at her sister, Stephanie for the way I was treated when I was living with her and her roommate, Ally. Holly is ultimately going to side with her sister and doesn’t want me trashing her, even though I believe I have a legitimate right to be angry at the way I was so passive-aggressively pushed out of that living arrangement, with Ally getting involved and talking to my care manager behind my back. These people assured me that I would not be put in danger. Yet here I am, not even feeling safe in my own room and certainly not feeling safe outside of it. So I don’t know what to do; either make peace with Holly or not. I don’t like that she makes excuses galore for Stephanie, but they’re sisters and that’s what I’m up against. But I have no friends here in Rochester and that is a scary thing.
I hope that care management at my clinic are able to take care of the billing issue that almost got me tossed out of here yesterday. It is another stress that I could do without. I would consider admitting myself to hospital, but what’s the point in the long run? I’m merely delaying the inevitable. I have five weeks left to do what I need to do. 2016 simply has to be my final year; no going back, no talking about it and no more putting it off for the distant future. I’m absolutely stuck and devoid of any options, except to take my own life, or have the thing that keeps me going taken away from me at some point in what I expect to be the near future.