I haven't posted anything here for a while. It's been hard lately, and I have frankly been too dispirited to write much. My wife passed in April, but it wasn't until September that I really felt myself slipping into an emotional trough. September is the time of year that I traditionally start feeling down, due to a number of factors like bad childhood memories and seasonal changes. It's been worse this year.
I've been tiptoeing toward transition for a while now. Despite constant self-doubt and fear, I keep moving steadily in that direction. I have now reached the point where the rubber begins to hit the road--making life changes that are not reversible, at least not entirely or easily. And now I begin to understand the cautionary words "only transition if you have to". I understand why so many trans people suicide--though I hasten to add that I'm not suicidal myself. But this is when you start to learn how much you're going to lose, and how big the obstacles are in your way. It is so daunting--and yet, going back doesn't seem to be an option either; at least, my mind quickly turns away from that thought.
I'm learning that I may really and truly lose my family, in part or in total. That's incredibly sad, and I feel so bereft, especially so soon after the loss of my wife. I go to work every day and try to imagine transitioning on the job--can imagine the hostility and isolation I'm likely to face from my coworkers. I'm not sure I could stand that. If I can't keep my job, I might have to move away. But the thought of having to move away from my church community (my chosen family), and especially having to leave my house, so full of the presence of my beloved, is more than I can bear. I truly feel caught between a rock and a hard place.
I feel isolated, and yet I hesitate to reach out to friends. I'm so tired of being the needy one. First I was the newlywed whose bride had serious cancer, then the caregiver to a wife in declining health, then the widow, and always the struggling transgender person. I feel like an emotional leech. I'm really tired of my seemingly never-ending troubles, tired of talking about myself, tired of depression. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. I want to be the one who says "it gets better", the one who gives support instead of always needing it. Yet, here I am, sticking my hand in my heart and spilling it all over the page (well, I'm not so depressed that I can't throw in a musical reference).
I wrote the above late last night. It's morning now, and things seem somewhat better and brighter, at least for a little while. I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, because I don't know what else to do.
Darkness only stays at nighttime
In the morning it will fade away
Daylight is good at arriving at the right time
It's not always gonna be this gray
All things must pass
All things must pass away
