Round and round it goes, where I stop no one knows…
There are times which are tougher to struggle through then others. Points where resolve weakens. Days, weeks, months when waking up knowing the world I will face is almost more than I can stand.
Times when being little more than a dream, a ghost, wraps my soul in darkness and the doubts come clambering, demanding attention, refusing to be ignored any longer.
This past week has been one such… I have had almost everyone around me use my old name and male pronouns. Each time it is a slap in the face, a dagger driven into my heart and I no longer have the strength to continue to correct them. Add to this several cases in which I have been required to present as male to access services from my lawyer, insurance company, even the post office because I had to use my official ID and information.
Maybe I’m being too sensitive but it seems as through the world around me is demanding I be male.The effort I have made to come out full time has been thrown back in my face.
All these and more have crowded into my thoughts and I just don’t have the strength to counter them.
I took a break between writing the first part of this post and what I about to write now.
Every day of this journey has been difficult. There have been so many things to deal with, so much baggage to unpack, I’m amazed I have made it as far as I have.
So many times I just wanted to give up, yet there always seemed to be point at which I was able to find just one more toe hold, one more thing to give me the strength to take just one more step…
I can’t find it. I don’t see anything to reach for. I have done so much and yet it seems so pointless. Nothing i have done has changed how those around me see me. Their presumptions and assumptions are as strong as a concrete wall and as likely to budge.
As I mentioned before, those closest to me insist on referring to me as male, using my old name, using male pronouns and doing so unapologetically. When I try to explain how much this hurts me it is twisted around to where it is they who are being hurt, they who are the victims. It is somehow my fault for making their lives more difficult, for trying to make them feel guilty for not accepting me, for making them uncomfortable.
It is I who is being unreasonable, stubborn.
This is one time when I am glad I’m not telepathic because while I believe they have played along with this because they think it is a phase or because they pity me, I can only speculate. Knowing the truth beyond doubt would be enough to break me once and for all.
As it is I can still fool myself into believing the best of them, yet even this has reached it limit and I am seriously wondering if it would’t be better to give up.
To let them win.
To let the world win
To give them who they want.
And it isn’t me.