I’ve been fighting depression on and off since I was thirteen years old when I tried to address the issue with my mother I was blown off and more or less ignored. When I was suicidal and tried to confide in her my thoughts I was told “you know we don’t believe in that” and was left to fend for myself. It’s a wonder that I have lived to see nearly thirty-two years, living more or less out of a stubborn dislike and distrust for the human race than anything else. I
I’ve had to put myself into a mindspace where I need to prove the world wrong, where I need to live to spite all of the people that have done nothing but try to break me. It is a tiring place to be, constantly having to fight just to pull yourself from bed, eat (or not eat), take care of yourself (or not), it’s a fight just to live. Things that most people take for granted and don’t even think about on a daily basis is for me, a uphill battle in the rain with muddy terrain and a broken leg. In short, it is hell.
I tell myself that people depend on me, my children and wife and that they need me but why do I always feel so alone? I have never found a place in society where I belong and I don’t think that I ever will. That kind of isolation and distance from acceptance and belonging can destroy a person. Humans, in a general sense, are pack creatures. They thrive when they are in a group of like company, they thrive so well that they tend to lose their sense of I and instead become We. Ah, the mob mentality.
I have lived most, if not all of my life on the fringes, like the sick lion cub desperately trying to fight for a scrap of food, attention, affection, anything that will solidify his existence or worth on this plane reality. Yet, much like the lion cub, I am different, I am odd and thus a threat, so I must be pushed as far away from everyone else as humanly possible.
The Gods made me, nature damned me, and society has crushed me.
I am autistic thus I think differently from other people, but because I have never been able to find a doctor willing to give me the “official” diagnosis I am unable to have the resources needed to prosper. I was supposed to have been diagnosed as a child, but because I was not nonverbal and my grades were excellent I was just labeled odd, weird, untouchable. All labels that excluded me from society, instead of welcoming me and giving me a place where I could flourish.
I am transgender. A recent study has actually proven that high functioning “females” with autism have a brain structure of a male their age. Previously, studies dealing with the transgender community have also found that transgender individuals have the brain structure like that of the gender they are transitioning to. Nature damned me to have a mind and body that don’t mesh without pain, torment, surgeries and a lifetime of taking medication. This is something that I have zero control over and yet people have labeled me a monster. I am evil, an abomination, something to be gunned down in the streets because I have dared to attempt to fix my medical condition.
How different the world would be if anyone that had surgery, took medications or didn’t follow the masses was gunned down in the street. There would be a lot fewer people, that’s for sure.
In the society that I live in, people like me are disposable. I have two strikes against me, and half of a lifetime of abuse has given me a third in the form of PTSD and social anxiety. The latter of the two could have been prevented had the world been kinder to someone like me. I have been crippled by the abuse that society has perpetrated upon people that aren’t “normal”.
Doctors don’t want to deal with me because I am transgender, autistic and have mental health issues. I’m too much to deal with. I am refused the help that I need to help myself.
I am left to fend for myself in a world that hates me, in a world that wants me dead because I don’t fit the norm.