bitofftoomuch
hold onto those who accept your messy self
- Jul 1, 2024
- 148
Background: I'm 28. I grew up in white suburbia and catholic school with conservative parents and as a trans woman it was a neverending nightmare. the boys locker rooms alone was harrowing enough but the general sense that nobody valued me destroyed my psyche.
My life stopped being pure misery after I left, but I could never secure myself. I've bounced around 12 different apartments in 10 years. I struggle with ADHD, which has made it gargantuan to deal with work/school and other essentials. This plus my insecurities has made forging close friendships or entering relationships near impossible.
Transition was a reprieve. I started in 2021 and found a renewed energy. I entered grad school and quickly made friends. I got into a couple of romantic relationships. They ultimately did not stick but felt like progress. My living situations were precarious. My six-month lease that I'd hoped to extend could not extend as the landlord was moving on with their life and no longer renting the place out. The next place I went, I also signed 6mo and hated it enough to not extend.
My 11th living situation was probably the only chance I got at a happy life. I moved in with another tgirl who was having a rough time. At first I felt it overwhelming. She's very open with her emotions and I didn't know how to react. But over time I found she did not expect anything from me, and that I could electively provide support when I found it possible. She also supported me.
Last year she got laid off, and I tried to be cool about it but the more time went on the more I found myself panicking. I had just finished grad school and was applying for jobs of my own. We renewed our lease and I felt quite depressed. I was supposed to be moving on with my life in a bigger city, was what I'd thought. But I sucked it up and kept applying. We'd bring other friends over and watch her old movies on the shared TV. One day we all watched Legally Blonde together. My roomie told me I'm like Elle -- basically her way of saying I'm blonde, girly, beautiful, and smart. It breathed life into my job hunt. I started interviewing more charismatically. My dream job turned me down, but a very solid option said yes.
Re-entering the workforce was of course exhausting for me. And I was already tired from everything else that had happened to me -- my parents' rejection, watching many of my other friends simultaneously leave the city when I graduated, the years of unstable housing, the acquring of massive college debts. I felt things should be "better". And I didn't like the stress of wondering what would happen to my still-unemployed roommate who didn't seem to have much of a plan beyond clicking on a few linkedIn Posts once a week. This is where my mistakes began. I started emotionally closing myself off from her. I would be brief, rude even when we interacted. I kept thinking I just need to leave this goddamn city and I'm letting myself be held down by someone I can be better than. What a fucking asshole I am! This woman was there for me at my lowest, and I thought little of her because job loss depressed her and I missed some of my other friends. There are other complexities to her, of course, and mentally I used the memory of rare outbursts from her at other people to justify my way of thinking, but it was self-deception. I was looking at her abrasive self-defense against harmful people and convincing myself it was a red flag, because I didn't want to confront my own insecurities.
It culminated in me finally leaving the place last February. I immediately regretted it. I sobbed on the couch before leaving. I went to therapy, talked through my feelings. We started mending our friendship, and made plans for me to return. After everything, a happy ending was still on the table for me.
But I was already too damaged. I got to questioning my return and froze up when it came time to actually sign. I felt I did not have mental capacity to accept OR reject the offer. I ghosted. Understandably, she took steps of her own and signed elsewhere. When she broke the news, I felt relief for about 1 minute, followed by crushing sadness, debilitating regret, and ultimately my 13th reason.
This was my once in a lifetime shot to be around someone who actually made me feel good even at my weakest, and how did I repay her and the universe? I spat in her face, apologized, promised I would be better, and then spat a second time.
There's no hope anymore. Work drains me and I no longer have the recovery time I once had with my bestie. On days off I mostly sleep and thinking about ending myself. I have massive tasks I need to do to keep my life on track and they feel far too overwhelming. The idea of tacking a recovery on in addition to that is laughable.
People will say it's dumb, that I shouldn't end myself for blowing one relationship, but it isn't just one relationship. I've failed to get close to anyone in my 28 years on this planet. I feel like there's such horseshit in saying "you're fine on your own" because everyone who says that has people they're close to to fall back on. I do not. I have a handful of friends -- most of them living several hours away -- who don't know me nearly as well as this woman did. I am functionally alone most of the time. What life demands from me has once again outpaced my ability to recover and I'm all out of tricks up my sleeve to buy more time.
I'm bitter, mostly. Bitter I was dealt a pretty bad hand but also full of self-loathing for blowing the only shot I had.
My shrink told me it's not about "what I deserve" but that it's "just the situation" and honestly? i don't fucking care. that distinction does not transport me back to the only place I could ever call a home. that distinction does not make my friend forgive me and consider giving me a third chance. that distinction does not convince my boss to take it easy on me or lower the price of rent or make my debt disappear or bring love back into my life. the simple fact is I had a chance to feel like life was worth living, I blew it, and I may never get one again.
This time around, I just don't feel like finding out if another chance is coming. My life is intolerable -- I get overworked and made to feel like shit for how my disability slows me down. I go home to a void of nothing. the few friends in my area who spend time with me have little in common with me. I will likely burn out soon and I have zero finanical preparedness for that. It seems far more likely that my life will get worse than that it will get better. Why slog through it, why stick around and most likely just feel worse and worse about myself?
I have a big surgery coming up and it's basically the only reason I haven't CTB'd. I feel so fucking dumb, because if I'd just stayed put I'd know where I was recovering after the procedure, but instead I'm juggling an apartment search and dreading moving to place #13. my life is not only bad, but fucking embarassing and an alienating topic. I don't feel like I can talk about myself to friends because anything I say about "what's going on with me" will just look bad and bum us all out.
I want to stick it out til my procedure next month, because it too is special. But I can't even conceptualize my return "home" afterwards and I'm not sure I even want to. So that puts me in a weird and frustrating place in terms of my plans to ctb. part of my motivation is not wanting to go through the stress of another relocation. but to see through this procedure means figuring out the relocation. Perhaps I will just have to suck it up one last time and revisit all this in a few months. I don't want to go through another Thanksgiving, that's for sure.
My life stopped being pure misery after I left, but I could never secure myself. I've bounced around 12 different apartments in 10 years. I struggle with ADHD, which has made it gargantuan to deal with work/school and other essentials. This plus my insecurities has made forging close friendships or entering relationships near impossible.
Transition was a reprieve. I started in 2021 and found a renewed energy. I entered grad school and quickly made friends. I got into a couple of romantic relationships. They ultimately did not stick but felt like progress. My living situations were precarious. My six-month lease that I'd hoped to extend could not extend as the landlord was moving on with their life and no longer renting the place out. The next place I went, I also signed 6mo and hated it enough to not extend.
My 11th living situation was probably the only chance I got at a happy life. I moved in with another tgirl who was having a rough time. At first I felt it overwhelming. She's very open with her emotions and I didn't know how to react. But over time I found she did not expect anything from me, and that I could electively provide support when I found it possible. She also supported me.
Last year she got laid off, and I tried to be cool about it but the more time went on the more I found myself panicking. I had just finished grad school and was applying for jobs of my own. We renewed our lease and I felt quite depressed. I was supposed to be moving on with my life in a bigger city, was what I'd thought. But I sucked it up and kept applying. We'd bring other friends over and watch her old movies on the shared TV. One day we all watched Legally Blonde together. My roomie told me I'm like Elle -- basically her way of saying I'm blonde, girly, beautiful, and smart. It breathed life into my job hunt. I started interviewing more charismatically. My dream job turned me down, but a very solid option said yes.
Re-entering the workforce was of course exhausting for me. And I was already tired from everything else that had happened to me -- my parents' rejection, watching many of my other friends simultaneously leave the city when I graduated, the years of unstable housing, the acquring of massive college debts. I felt things should be "better". And I didn't like the stress of wondering what would happen to my still-unemployed roommate who didn't seem to have much of a plan beyond clicking on a few linkedIn Posts once a week. This is where my mistakes began. I started emotionally closing myself off from her. I would be brief, rude even when we interacted. I kept thinking I just need to leave this goddamn city and I'm letting myself be held down by someone I can be better than. What a fucking asshole I am! This woman was there for me at my lowest, and I thought little of her because job loss depressed her and I missed some of my other friends. There are other complexities to her, of course, and mentally I used the memory of rare outbursts from her at other people to justify my way of thinking, but it was self-deception. I was looking at her abrasive self-defense against harmful people and convincing myself it was a red flag, because I didn't want to confront my own insecurities.
It culminated in me finally leaving the place last February. I immediately regretted it. I sobbed on the couch before leaving. I went to therapy, talked through my feelings. We started mending our friendship, and made plans for me to return. After everything, a happy ending was still on the table for me.
But I was already too damaged. I got to questioning my return and froze up when it came time to actually sign. I felt I did not have mental capacity to accept OR reject the offer. I ghosted. Understandably, she took steps of her own and signed elsewhere. When she broke the news, I felt relief for about 1 minute, followed by crushing sadness, debilitating regret, and ultimately my 13th reason.
This was my once in a lifetime shot to be around someone who actually made me feel good even at my weakest, and how did I repay her and the universe? I spat in her face, apologized, promised I would be better, and then spat a second time.
There's no hope anymore. Work drains me and I no longer have the recovery time I once had with my bestie. On days off I mostly sleep and thinking about ending myself. I have massive tasks I need to do to keep my life on track and they feel far too overwhelming. The idea of tacking a recovery on in addition to that is laughable.
People will say it's dumb, that I shouldn't end myself for blowing one relationship, but it isn't just one relationship. I've failed to get close to anyone in my 28 years on this planet. I feel like there's such horseshit in saying "you're fine on your own" because everyone who says that has people they're close to to fall back on. I do not. I have a handful of friends -- most of them living several hours away -- who don't know me nearly as well as this woman did. I am functionally alone most of the time. What life demands from me has once again outpaced my ability to recover and I'm all out of tricks up my sleeve to buy more time.
I'm bitter, mostly. Bitter I was dealt a pretty bad hand but also full of self-loathing for blowing the only shot I had.
My shrink told me it's not about "what I deserve" but that it's "just the situation" and honestly? i don't fucking care. that distinction does not transport me back to the only place I could ever call a home. that distinction does not make my friend forgive me and consider giving me a third chance. that distinction does not convince my boss to take it easy on me or lower the price of rent or make my debt disappear or bring love back into my life. the simple fact is I had a chance to feel like life was worth living, I blew it, and I may never get one again.
This time around, I just don't feel like finding out if another chance is coming. My life is intolerable -- I get overworked and made to feel like shit for how my disability slows me down. I go home to a void of nothing. the few friends in my area who spend time with me have little in common with me. I will likely burn out soon and I have zero finanical preparedness for that. It seems far more likely that my life will get worse than that it will get better. Why slog through it, why stick around and most likely just feel worse and worse about myself?
I have a big surgery coming up and it's basically the only reason I haven't CTB'd. I feel so fucking dumb, because if I'd just stayed put I'd know where I was recovering after the procedure, but instead I'm juggling an apartment search and dreading moving to place #13. my life is not only bad, but fucking embarassing and an alienating topic. I don't feel like I can talk about myself to friends because anything I say about "what's going on with me" will just look bad and bum us all out.
I want to stick it out til my procedure next month, because it too is special. But I can't even conceptualize my return "home" afterwards and I'm not sure I even want to. So that puts me in a weird and frustrating place in terms of my plans to ctb. part of my motivation is not wanting to go through the stress of another relocation. but to see through this procedure means figuring out the relocation. Perhaps I will just have to suck it up one last time and revisit all this in a few months. I don't want to go through another Thanksgiving, that's for sure.
