I'm so tired of being an outcast on a dying planet. I've been rejected by everyone since I can remember. Now I know it will never get better.
About a year ago I was deeply suicidal, for so many reasons and almost decided to go through with it when a song by Lana Del Rey came on. In it, she talked about living her authentic life and how she feels free and fulfilled now. I considered whether I had ever lived authentically; in other words, whether I had ever given life a fair chance. The answer was no.
I had become incredibly reclusive as a result of trauma, a chronic illness, and a lifetime of abandonment. It was loneliness that bothered me most, so I started going to lots of meetups, multiple times a week, for things where I would have interests in common with the other people there. I even went back to my childhood church to see what could be learned from them, and to appreciate the music.
I had to overcome so much ingrained fear, so many negative narratives I had internalized throughout my life. I transitioned openly and proudly, no longer ashamed to show the world who I was. In short, I took all the advice I got from my therapist and online. Just put yourself out there and the rest will take care of itself.
Of course, that's not how it really went. For a year of suspending my disbelief, all I have to show is this: nothing.
I was right all along. There is something about me, some fundamental aspect of my being that everyone on earth finds utterly repulsive. I tried so hard to be nice, kind, welcoming, the kind of person I would enjoy interacting with. But I have made no friends - only 2 "friends" who never text first and a third who only pities me. Most people I interact with excuse themselves quickly, because they have so, so much to do - but not that much that they can't stop to chat with someone else first.
Strangest of all, some people I have met offered me their contact information to stay in touch, only to disappear. My only guess as to why is as a cruel joke, like the popular girls asking out the ugly kid as a "joke" in a high school movie. Some of these people I have met on forums for other lonely people, and this might be the most crushing blow of all: they would rather talk to no one than talk to me.
(And don't get me started on transitioning. It was an awful farce. I will never be beautiful the way I need to be. Other trans people can, and have done so, but it was so laughably obvious that I never could. I just wasn't brave enough to admit that.)
So, despite my best efforts as believing my therapist's gaslighting for a year, I've shown myself beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will never have the community and connection I've craved for most of my life. Everyone else gets to have it, but for some reason that's not for me. I'm not wanted, not anywhere. Maybe I could have faced the literal end times with a group of trusty compañeros, but rejected by everyone, everywhere? Not a chance.
In a way, though, this has given me the strength to finally commit. If I'm not wanted here, I'm not obligated to stay. No one will be sad when I CTB. Indeed, beyond my immediate family, who will be relieved, no one will ever know.
About a year ago I was deeply suicidal, for so many reasons and almost decided to go through with it when a song by Lana Del Rey came on. In it, she talked about living her authentic life and how she feels free and fulfilled now. I considered whether I had ever lived authentically; in other words, whether I had ever given life a fair chance. The answer was no.
I had become incredibly reclusive as a result of trauma, a chronic illness, and a lifetime of abandonment. It was loneliness that bothered me most, so I started going to lots of meetups, multiple times a week, for things where I would have interests in common with the other people there. I even went back to my childhood church to see what could be learned from them, and to appreciate the music.
I had to overcome so much ingrained fear, so many negative narratives I had internalized throughout my life. I transitioned openly and proudly, no longer ashamed to show the world who I was. In short, I took all the advice I got from my therapist and online. Just put yourself out there and the rest will take care of itself.
Of course, that's not how it really went. For a year of suspending my disbelief, all I have to show is this: nothing.
I was right all along. There is something about me, some fundamental aspect of my being that everyone on earth finds utterly repulsive. I tried so hard to be nice, kind, welcoming, the kind of person I would enjoy interacting with. But I have made no friends - only 2 "friends" who never text first and a third who only pities me. Most people I interact with excuse themselves quickly, because they have so, so much to do - but not that much that they can't stop to chat with someone else first.
Strangest of all, some people I have met offered me their contact information to stay in touch, only to disappear. My only guess as to why is as a cruel joke, like the popular girls asking out the ugly kid as a "joke" in a high school movie. Some of these people I have met on forums for other lonely people, and this might be the most crushing blow of all: they would rather talk to no one than talk to me.
(And don't get me started on transitioning. It was an awful farce. I will never be beautiful the way I need to be. Other trans people can, and have done so, but it was so laughably obvious that I never could. I just wasn't brave enough to admit that.)
So, despite my best efforts as believing my therapist's gaslighting for a year, I've shown myself beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will never have the community and connection I've craved for most of my life. Everyone else gets to have it, but for some reason that's not for me. I'm not wanted, not anywhere. Maybe I could have faced the literal end times with a group of trusty compañeros, but rejected by everyone, everywhere? Not a chance.
In a way, though, this has given me the strength to finally commit. If I'm not wanted here, I'm not obligated to stay. No one will be sad when I CTB. Indeed, beyond my immediate family, who will be relieved, no one will ever know.
