No matter what I do, it feels hopeless, I feel hopeless. I'm in poverty in the USA and I'm just trying to fucking stay alive. I have a therapist but I've seen her twice and haven't been able to get scheduled since, which was almost three months ago now. I just gave up. It feels insurmountable. I feel like the life I wanted was stolen from me by my family, my fellow citizens, my country.
I spend every day staring at a screen and talking to no one in real life except the family I caretake for. I do my best, but I bitterly resent them for what they put me through, how they made clear this fucking house we live in was more valuable to them than their own child.
I'll never forget the fear I had put in me when I was caught crossdressing, and just let it go until more than a decade later when I was almost thirty, and even then it took me years to wrestle with my own feelings.
I know Medicaid covers a lot, but I'm probably losing Medicaid this spring because my cancer isn't cancery enough or whatever. I've been waiting on even getting a first hearing for disability and it feels like it will never come and I scrape by on nothing.
I don't even have my own bed. How can I even realistically pursue anything? I can't even talk about how much it makes me want to kill myself without getting institutionalized. I feel like I may as well just die now because I'm wasting time, that no one will love me, that no one cares, that I'm just one more easily forgotten casualty of the American Empire that has been murdering with impunity for generations.
I'm sorry I'm crashing out. It just all feels so pointless and fruitless and like I may as well die as the ugly man that I am. I've been falling apart ever since I was diagnosed with cancer, and I'm so tired of being treated like I should just toughen up and get over it or something since "I'm a man" or what the fuck ever. I hate it I hate I hate it I hate it
Honestly I let spite take over when I get like that. There's too many people on my list of obituaries I need to see before I die. And I'm not going to let a world that doesn't want me dictate what I do with my life. I don't have hope that I can fully reclaim the life I deserved to live. I don't have hope that I will fully recover from the traumas I've faced, or that some sort of justice will befall the ones who have wronged me or stolen parts of me.
But I do have hope that by still persisting, even if fueled by nothing other than spite, maybe my life can be the inspiration for another trans person to also persist. Maybe even saving them from some of the struggles I've encountered.
And if I can ruin some transphobes day just by existing, well that's just a bonus.
I spite the person I caretake for, I wish I didn't have to live here to not be on the street, it would make things a lot easier for sure.
I wish getting transphobes upset would be enough, but it's my own stupid mind that hates me and thinks I'm ugly.
Humm I struggled to answer this because I don't really know what the answer is despite doing it for the past 49 years, I guess just existing is the right answer. I try to be helpful to other people when I can, I learned to do a lot of things, I've had some wild experience, so hopefully like yourself my story can be of use to someone, or at any rate, just to add a little more sparkle to the world that's full of miserable wretches just by being.