I was going to leave Susan's behind, and move on. But things crashed around me this last week and maybe telling you will make me feel better. Feeling better? No, that won't happen.
First. I have a telephone appointment to talk to my therapist tomorrow morning, so don't worry about me doing anything to hurt myself. And please don't reply to this by saying things like "It will get better.", " We all care about you.", or anything like that. And don't ask me to call a crisis line, a help line, or anything else because I'm way past you on those, and I'm living in my own little hell now.
I'm not going to kill myself today. And maybe not for many years. But I see it as a real possibility, and the reality of having to end this life some day hasn't bothered me for at least a year. I'm not afraid of death, and I almost fancy the idea of not waking up to deal with life again.
I'm quite old, depressed, and incredibly lonely.
Except for my sisters and brothers I've been ostracized by my relatives.
My son's won't talk to me.
My wife and I are separated. And even if we talk by phone nearly every day we don't say much.
I've been injured a couple times in the last month and don't feel I'm able to do my work.
I'm extremely cold in the snow, and spend most of my free time alone and inside.
I've lost much of my will to survive., and if I was hit and killed by a truck tomorrow it'd be a blessing.
I actually expect to be happier, and I know I'll get past these next couple days of depression. But the depression will return as it always does. And to add to it everything else has gotten to the point where I'm considering a delay in my SRS Then maybe I can placate my wife by finishing the house repair so we can finally sell it and get divorced. Then, if I'm still alive I can go under the knife. I realize I've always said I started this transition knowing what I'd loose. And if you've read my posts you know my common theme has been "I'm never turning back from this transition." Yet something I've always left out of that statement was "But that doesn't mean I can't end it now, and forever."
Lately my project home is slipping badly because of the weather, unexpected problems with the house, a lack of help, no money, personal injury, and just plain old depression. Here in the middle of nowhere I'm living a solitary life without friends, without physical contact, and without having others who I can talk to about this life, or who are willing to help me understand my problems. And other than going to a church (that I can't stand) once a week, there's nothing that lets me feel even remotely like I belong to anything, or that I have companionship, or friendship. And there certainly isn't any love.
As I said I'm old, I'm not good looking, I'm nearly broke, and I have to rely on the wife I walked out on last month to send me money. I've lost interest in my hobbies, there are no other activities in the area that I can physically do in the winter, and I don't want to spend money on trying to search for something that can draw my interest. All in all, the mistake that was my birth is catching up to me, and I'm having trouble dealing with it.
There is one funny thing I laugh about in this situation, and even it's a dark little pit. I'm politically conservative and that has made me an unknown outsider to the local liberal LGBT community, and since I'm transsexual I'm and outsider the conservative population around me. Things are so bad I'm even thinking of stopping at the local Republican Party office just to shake things up and watch them flip out as socially awkward transwoman volunteers to work for super conservative politician. Yeah, if that's what really ends up being my entertainment, BIG WHOOP. May as well die first.
I wish I could feel the tender touch of another person. A person who knew what my life was like, what it means to have lived this way, and who would care as much for me as I would for her. And I wish I could stop crying because it no longer helps. The pain lasts even after the tears run dry.
I have to go to the post office, stop to get something to eat, and do some work on the house. After that I don't know. I've got a credit card and half a tank of gas in the jeep. I can always drive until I can't run away anymore.
This just sucks, and it's got to end.