column b

I'm not sure I should be writing in here anymore. I don't have much to say about the journey of trans people these days since I'm derailed. Still, I kind of need to vent emotions I'm feeling and there are some I don't have any other outlet for other than this blog.

I had this friend. She lives really far away from me and our relationship was really complicated. I was never sure how she really felt about me but, over time, my feelings grew and deepened for her. She felt like the first person in my whole life who really understood me, who might love me for who I was.

She was sick, though. I mentioned her in a video once. I'd said, if given the choice, I would sooner save her than save the rest of the world in its entirety. Some of you thought that sounded sweet or nice but, in reality, I said it because much of her illness is my fault. She was sick all along but something else happened; something between us and, as a result, she got much sicker.

I couldn't deal with it so I stopped writing for a while. Nearly seven hundred miles of distance made it easy to avoid her but impossible to escape the guilt. For three months I agonized over the mistakes I'd made.

I reached out eventually but it was too late, I guess. She was so angry with me. I tried to understand. She told me she would write emails explaining everything I'd missed, telling me just how guilty I was and how deep her hatred extended. I wanted to get them. I was ready to be punished for the mistakes I'd made. I just wanted things to get better between us. Despite all my best efforts I loved her even though I'd only met her twice.

I wonder if you're reading this. I feel so ridiculous and small. Your livejournal is updated and you talk about this other girl. I guess you finally found someone you could love. You probably hate me now more than ever. If I'm lucky maybe you're just ambivalent. Either way, you're gone. I thought I was alright with that. I tried my best to make peace and accept that this was a damnation of my own making. Still, there are days when my heart still breaks because I miss you. You were my little prince. I still love you and I still care but I won't write again. Your silence tells me everything I need to know. You're better off without me. If I had the courage I would slash open my eager flesh in penance. I wish I could take it all away, trade my life for yours. There's more but I can't bear to write it. I still wish every day that you'll be well, that your miracle will come but I am anathema to all that is good in your world. I am the bleakness, the emptiness, and the pain. I failed you. I'm sorry.

just like high school

I know I'm supposed to be honoring those we lost today and I am but I can't help but feel like I'm not even a part of this anymore. It's been months since I've been able to take anything HRT related. My beard grows in so thick again, my hair is falling out in clumps, and I've aged about a decade. I don't feel like I'm part of this community. Hell, I don't even feel like I'm alive anymore. I tried to take the flutamide just to block the testosterone and now my kidneys are mysteriously messed up. Why? Wasn't being trans bad enough? What the hell? Now I can't even do anything about it. I can't even get a job to save my life.

I'm just waiting to die. I'm angry and I'm tired and miserable beyond anything I ever thought was imaginable. I lost everything. I just wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I've got a life sentence with no parole. That's it. Blog's done. I have absolutely nothing left to say that isn't violently furious or pathetically depressing. If you see me on the street do us all a favor and put one right between my eyes, alright? The world will be better off and I won't have to spend another second feeling this way.

Duanna, This one's for you

Hey.

Sorry I've been gone a while. My health is still not awesome. I don't want to talk about that though. I want to make a vow right here and right now to stand up and defend all of my trans brothers and sisters. So close to the day of Remembrance and Duanna Johnson, who stood up against hate for all of us is dead. I am gutted. To think I spent much of today arguing with someone because they called me a "nazi" on the internet. Why was I expending all that energy on something so meaningless when Duanna Johnson was fighting for me and my right to walk down the street without being, mocked, beaten, arrested, and killed?

Lori asked "Who's got your back?" Well I don't know who has my back but I hope you know that I have yours. Even if I can never transition I still know the fear of walking down a street at night alone and having that terrible knowledge of what could happen and just how likely it is. I've lost jobs and I've been abandoned just because I'm trans. I never met Duanna but I weep for her as though she were my own blood.

I'm angry but that anger gives me strength. We have to be strong for one another. We have to fight. I am fighting for you. Maybe someday Duanna's fate will be my own but I swear this: so long as I draw breath I will not quit until we can feel safe when we walk down the street. Until that day, lock arms with me kids and we'll walk this road together. And if someone tries to hurt us? We will fuck their shit up!