Weddings Birthdays Children

This thing, (this hormonal thing?)  Has just absolutely ruined my life. The world spins too fast for me. In a lot of ways I’m basically still a child. I was 12 years old and then I was suddenly 36 and I have no idea how I got here or who’s life this is I’m meant to be living. I look out and see everyone else going through their own lives, only they are really living theirs. Everything is just endless weddings, birthdays, and children, punctuated by the occasional rough patch that these people inevitably have and inevitably find their way out of. They grow as human beings and it’s really quite endearing to watch. I see their tears and their heartache, and I see them inevitably overcome these difficulties and rise up better than they were. 

But it’s all I seem to be able to do, is watch. I’ve been legitimately partially brain dead for most of my life and that takes its toll. It’s felt as if I have no power at all in my life, no ability to make proper decisions, and no way to grow. I’ve been stuck in place while the rest of the world moves around me, and lately has just moved right past me altogether. It legitimately feels like I don’t even exist at all, like I experience the world but I’m not an active participant. I’m in the world, but not of it. The whole thing feels alien to me.

Sitting here in tears, actual tears because I just found out a friend of mine… well, friend? Probably not, right? Is pregnant and was probably pregnant the last time I spoke with her on the phone and was most likely pregnant when I saw her in December and she never even told me. 

I don’t know what I am to her, I don’t know how she viewed me, but that’s a punch in the gut if there ever was one. I saw her go through a messy, awful divorce, I saw her life fall apart and I saw her put her life back together… I saw her withdraw from me because(?) I didn’t hide anything about my life. I was open about the mess that’s inside my head and like always, the people I open up to (because they ask me to) eventually shut me out for one reason or another and leave me behind. 

It’s a dilemma. I can continue to hold everything back, or I can admit I have significant problems with life that go far beyond anything a self-help book can resolve. My problems are not philosophical, they are not about feelings, they can’t be solved with affirmations and happy thoughts. They are existential and most probably chemical on a basic level. Hormonal to be exact. There is no amount of positive thinking that will ever resolve a deficiency. You either have it or you don’t.

If I hold back, the people I relate with can sense it. If I actually reveal what I’m going through, the frustration and inability to understand why I can’t “just…” gets to be too much and they withdraw. So, once again I’m left with nothing and I have to make the decision, once again to cut someone out of my life. To stop trying to even be in theirs in any capacity because I’ve been ignored to the point where this isn’t me just making things up in my head, again. To stop trying because they just so obviously landed in California and went to an event with another person I’d best forget exists and didn’t even send me a text. Oh, well. 

When your brain just isn’t working on a fundamental level, when your emotions are just all over the place, when you can’t even be sure what the point of being alive is, it’s hard to have relationships with other people. It’s doubly hard when it’s this actual lack of relationships that makes you feel like you’re floating in space with the world swirling around you. They’re like footholds that keep you anchored in the storm. Without them you might fly off into the Void and never return, but without the context of that even mattering at all. You learn that you can’t trust your own mind to tell you what’s right and wrong, what’s good and bad about the world around you.

I am fucked up. I don’t know how or why I got to be so far gone, but it doesn’t matter. The world moves too fast for me. I get to see everyone else living their lives but I don’t get to live one of my own. Every time I touch base with someone, every time they reach into my world for just a second and bring some sunlight into my grey and colorless world, I’m reminded of just how far gone I really am. These people around me are some kind of different creature. I haven’t spoken with anyone, friend, family, or professional that has any idea what it really all looks like to me. And when I try to explain it, I’m inevitably told on some way that I’m doing it wrong.

But here’s the thing. I have no motivation to live my life. None. Zero. I look online and everyone is yelling about racism this or sexism that. They’re mad about gay people taking too much power, or not having enough. They either want more money or more equity. They’re living their lives. I on the other hand, I don’t get to have a life. I don’t get to have feelings or a family or friends or sex or money or any of the things that make any of that stuff relevant. 

I’m sitting right now outside of an office where I “work,” trying to make some kind of money selling promissory notes to rich investors. If I did this right and the market conditions were favorable, I could make six figures working part time. But right now I’m not making anything and right now I don’t think I can bring myself to care. If I had money coming in, what then? I have no use for it really. I’d probably invest it and turn it into more money, but what’s the point of any of it? I still won’t have any real connection to people. I still won’t have relationships or a sex life, I still won’t have any reason to be here at all.

 On some level I think it’s funny how much people care about sex, specifically the sex of other people. All this screaming for or against LGBT rights and I’m sitting here wondering where are all these people having sex with each other anyway? They legitimately have relationships with each other?  Is that really something people do? What’s that like? Does no one else suppress their own sexuality to the point where it’s just an afterthought? Do people really care about gender so much that they want to police how other people exist? Do other people really get to exist as a gender and aren’t just wading through a sea of bland, gross mucosal gelatin trying to figure out why they exist at all?

So, I don’t know what my answer is. I don’t know if it even makes sense to think there might be an “answer.” Maybe this is just the way I was born. Maybe I missed my opportunity to live my life, I should have died a long time ago and I’m really just only here as a ghost, an empty shell. Maybe I missed my destiny by not joining the army when I graduated school, my life’s purpose now vanished… if you believe in gobbledegook like that. All I know is, my brain scans showed signs of brain damage. A closer look suggests that I’m a victim of sustained emotional abuse. I have terrible dissociation and depersonalization that seems to be correlated with my gender weirdness. I took some estradiol and now my brain feels like it’s been turned on for the first time in my life, at least since puberty began.

When puberty began it was like a light went off inside my head and nothing I have done or have tried to do since then has made any sense. Over the years I put up with a abuse from every side; my mother and others in my family, my “friends,” the other random kids around me, my teachers, later my bosses in whatever job I managed to find myself in. And I put up with all of it. I felt like I deserved it on some level. I can say right now that I have never had a real relationship. I have never had a real, deep relationship with anyone. It’s been a lonely life and I don’t want to live it anymore. 

Lately I tried estradiol and it’s like that light however dimly, started to come back on. It’s like I was starved for oxygen and now I can breath again. So, now I’m awake. Or at least more awake than I’ve ever been. But… it’s too late. It’s too late to live my life correctly, it’s too late to live as the person I wanted or needed to be. It’s too late because even though I have the mental fog clearing up, and I’m not fading out of life as badly, even though the clock has slowed down substantially and I can actually function in the day… I can now see my life clearly too. 

Everything is wrong. Everything is upside down. I don’t see a clear path out of this trauma raddled brain, I don’t see a purpose to being here at all, I don’t see what the point of life is in any capacity.

This isn’t depression. It may have been at one point but not anymore. I just feel like I’m breaking up with myself.


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