Mentally, I’ve moved a few more notches closer to either booking a flight back to the UK and dealing with the consequences, or giving up. I don’t know anyone that I could stay with in the UK until I were to get back on my feet again. I know my family won’t help and while I accept that, I wish they’d understand why I need to leave the United States.
Anyone who knows me will know that it takes a lot for me to meet anyone in person for the first time. It isn’t just my social anxiety; the risks are far greater for someone in my position than most people.
I’d been talking to a guy that I met on a dating site back in early December. He seemed cool and didn’t seem like a chaser and he wasn’t creepy. We arranged to meet at 8pm today. I wasn’t going to as usually I need a day to mentally prepare to meet someone new, but he insisted on meeting tonight. So I agreed, then spent all afternoon mentally preparing and 2 hours getting ready. I fixed my nail and took the time and effort with makeup that I don’t usually bother with that much. Anyway, the messages me with tamest excuse to cavelike just 30 minutes before we were meant to meet. It took me a while to react, but I basically told him to go fuck himself after he had the nerve to ask me i sometime (unspecified) tomorrow was okay. I get that people cancel, but he could have told me 2 hours earlier, so I didn’t waste time and makeup that I don’t have a lot of money to replace, hence I use it sparingly.
Had this happened in another place at another time, it would be easier to just write off and move on. But all it’s done is add to the list of flaky people that I’ve met here in Rochester since I got here in July. From the two former friends who encouraged me to move back before deciding that I was too much to the flaky people I met at the transgender group. I’m beginning to think that it’s not just because I’m an ugly piece of shit and deserving of it, but also because there are higher than average count of flaky people in Rochester (it’s probably both). Yet again, I got my hopes up and was actually looking forward to it, only to be let down again. I was looking forward to getting away from this motel room too and perhaps feeling a little human.
I feel like I have no future in the United States anyway, with at least 4 years of Trump ahead of us. Brexit in the UK is bad, but unlike here in the US, LGBT rights are not at stake. Even if I get into treatment housing soon, recover relatively quickly and find a job, I’m still faced with a very uncertain and scary future here. I’d never be able to leave New York and some states will quote literally me “no go area”, because it’s open season on minorities, women and marginalized people.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to convince anyone that I probably need to leave. Even if nothing change for the worst for 2 years or more, the fact is it will only be a matter of time and I don’t want that axe hanging over my head. How can I possibly see a future for myself here? Is there even any point debating it, because no one can give me a straight or honest answer anyway, because they either don’t know or are afraid themselves.
I didn’t want this to happen and I am not running away. I have nothing here though; not even an acquaintance. It’s more important for me to have family, friends, safety and no fear of everything being taken away than this.
I don’t even want to get older or old. A 62 year old guy added me on Facebook and he just seems so lonely and desperate just for someone to hear him. But at leas the has a son to live for, which is probably all he does live for. I don’t have that; I don’t have anything. That will be me in 30 years time, if I’m still stuck here being too much of a coward to commit suicide.
I can’t do this anymore.