Empty

The evening before last I had fully intended to kill myself. I was, and frankly still am, tired of the
struggle. I’m tired of nothing ever seeming to get better no matter how hard I fight. I’m tired of
seeing facebook post after facebook post of states in the US making laws that blatantly
descriminate against LGBT people, especially transgender people.

Monday was hell. I’m sure anyone that read my blog figured that out, and yet here I am. I cried
myself to sleep. I had planned to wait until my wife when to bed and then do the deed, but I was
so exhausted after my total meltdown that I cried myself to sleep and couldn’t find the strength to
pull myself from bed until well after 10:00am the next morning. Something that I odd for me
considering I’m usually up and moving about between 5:00 and 6:00am every morning.

So here I am.

I’ve been waiting for a decision on disability for months now, I applied in July of 2015 and still
have heard nothing. It took Social Security six months to decide to send me to a doctor, and
three more to acutally do it. My wife called Social Security on Monday to update my information (I
have a new cell phone number since I lost my Verizon account) and to get an update on my
case.

When I first applied back in July of last year, I submitted paperwork that give my wife permission
to call social security and speak on my behalf because of my telephone issues. My initial
telephone interview that was conducted in September of 2015 was done by my wife, and the only
other update that we’ve recieved (December of 2015) was also made via telephone conversation
with my wife.

After a thirty minute hold time, my wife tried to talk to “Matt” about my case. She was sitting on
our front porch with the phone on speaker so that I could hear everything that was being said.
This Matt fellow refused to talk to my wife and said that I had never turned in paperwork giving
her authorization to speak on my behalf and he needed to speak to me. My wife explained that I
was unable to, and that this was part of my disability.

I find it funny that my wife can make the decision to end my life if I am on life support, but these
asshole companies refuse to allow her to speak on my behalf even after I’ve given authorization
and signed paperwork stating so.

I lost it. I started crying, and I couldn’t stop. I’ve been under too much stress and had too much
happen to me in the past 14 days to be able to keep myself from going into a complete
meltdown. When I started crying and telling my wife that the people on the other end of the phone
didn’t give a damn about my disabilities, Matt stated he didn’t have to listen to “this” and hung up.

Half an hour she had waited, and for nothing because of some cocky kid that wanted me to
speak on the phone so damned badly but didn’t want to hear me crying because I couldn’t handle
all the stress of what has been going on.

When he hung up and I realized we had wasted all that time, I lost it. I broke everything that I
could get my hands on, and when there was nothing more I could break I started to hurt myself.

All I could think about was the fact that we had wasted so much time on trying to get an update
because the social security administration is so incompetent that they can’t keep their website
information up to date. If they had kept their records up to date on their servers, then I wouldn’t
have gotten a message demanding that I call them. Then of course I can’t call them, so I have to
have my wife call them instead and now they wouldn’t even talke to her. It didn’t matter if I had
signed papers allowing it, these bastards didn’t care. They don’t care because it’s not them that
has to suffer. They get to go home to their warm little beds at night and have their electricity and
running water. They don’t have to wake up every damned morning and draw water from a well,
live with a mother-­in-­law that likes to pretend they don’t exist and is nothing but a burder. They
don’t know my life and they don’t give a fuck because it isn’t them.

In that moment I hated myself more than anything else. I was the one that’s failed, I’m the broken
one that can’t take care of his family. I’m the one that doesn’t have any friends that live nearby to
hang out with. I’m the worthles waste of space that needs to die. If I died than maybe my family
would have a better shot at getting out of where they are.
In that moment, I needed to die.

As always my champion, (my wife) stepped in and stopped me, she held me while I screamed,
wailed, and cried. She held me until I was sobbing so hard that I couldn’t breathe, and had screamed myself hoarse. When I was so tired I couldn’t do anything else, my wife called my
lawyer, who understands I can’t speak on the phone, and explained what happened and asked
for them to request an update. The social security administration will speak with a lawyer, but not
my wife…

My wife thought I was calmer after a bit, and I was, but truth be told I was still planning to die. I
remembered how much attention that other people’s deaths had gotten, and thought if I did the
same maybe, just maybe, the outcome would bring light to people like me.

On Monday night as I laid in bed after writing my goodbye letter, I just started crying. I couldn’t
help it, and even now I keep crying on and off. I’m tired, I’m only thirty-­one years old and I feel like
I’ve lived three times that long.

I have faced discrimination since my teenage years, I have gone through things that no one
should have to go through. I have been abused several times, by several people. I have been
homeless many times, some with children, sometimes without. I have been shunned and
ignored by people that were suposed to be my friends and my support group. I have had my
vehicle vandalized for speaking out about being transgender and the effect it had on my birth
family. I have been told that I’m an abomination, that I’m unnatural and a predator. All this
negative overwhelms what little positive that I have.

I cried when I had a hot shower for the first time in two months. I overdrew my bank account for
that, and now I have to figure out how I’m going to pay it off.

I worry about losing my children
every single day because I have no where to go. We have our animals to care for, and on top of
that I wouldn’t be welcome in any homeless shelter where we would have running water and
electricity.

It all builds up to the point where you can’t take it.

I just want to all to end.

I don’t understand why people are filed with so much hatred towards
each other.
I can’t understand why people pretend to be your friend, but only when you can give
them something.

The last two years have been really hard for me. I’ve lost nearly every person that I considered to
be my friend. I love my wife, she means the world to me and she is my best friend, but it would
still be nice to have someone else that I could spend time with and share my interests with.

As I laid there crying in bed, my phone started making the message tone. I was honestly
surprised.

Three people from my Facebook list had written me to make sure that I was okay, or to tell me
that I was loved and cared for. It made me cry even harder.

These three people and my wife, cared enough to write me and check on me.
I still haven’t written back and I’m sure I’ve worried them, and for that I am truly sorry and I hope
that they can forgive me. This morning I received another message from a friend on twitter.

I’ve learned something from my breakdown though. I have a handful of people that care about
me, while I can’t go see them or spend time with them, they are my friends and I love each and
every one of them, and I am greatful to have them.

When I woke up on Tuesday morning, and no long had the pressing urge to end my own life I
was surprised to see how much traffic my blog got from what would be my final post. I’m not
sure if that was good, bad, or just something that was neither but it rekindled the fact that I love to
write and I love having people read my writing.

This evening I spent several hours sitting with a horde of over twenty baby bunnies ranging in
age from five to eight weeks taking pictures of them as they ran around me in their enclosure
that I built out repurposed pallets. My goal was to cheer myself up, because I love rabbits.

It
worked somewhat, especially after cuddling several of them over the course of the day. (Miyagi,
Mr. Mustache, Dionysus, and Captain Adorable)

I also spent all day yesterday wearing a shirt that was a special gift from a fellow SPN fan, and
mother, trying to remind myself to Always Keep Fighting.

While I am still depressed, there is a
light at the end of the tunnel. I just hope that I can make it to the end of the tunnel and not feel so
empty anymore.

#autistic-suicide, #death, #depressed, #depression, #disability, #disabled-people, #discrimination, #helpless, #hopelessness, #mental-illness, #suicide, #transgender-suicide