New Beginnings, Old Ghosts

Let me set the scene for you.

You finally have what you’ve been looking for the last two years. You have amazing friends, and a place to live with them. It’s a BEAUTIFUL apartment for what it’s worth. Needs some cleaning and additions for more space to do things, but it’s perfect and just what you all need. You’re super excited to get back and start your life for real again. With real family. With real friends.

But then the nervousness sets in. The fear, the anxiety, and the worry. All of it comes flooding back over your head within the waters you’ve been treading for so long. Wave after wave just knocks over your head, threatening you to be pulled under. When all you’re trying to do is wade a little longer, keep your head up a little higher to breathe, and finally swim to shore on that island that has been far away from your sight for too long.

That’s where I am right now.

I’m heading back upstate on June 16th. I’m going on a very much needed and fun road trip with my boyfriend, cat, and two of my best friends (not the ones I’m living with currently). It’s going to be amazing, and once I get back home, I will have a new place to live, with old friends. It couldn’t be more perfect and yes, I am so over the moon excited. But I’m terrified. And this . . . this should be expected.

See, in the last two years I’ve been couch hopping. I’ve had problems with my past three room-mates, all of which were so fucking stupid I can’t wrap my head around it all still. None of which was by any means of my own fault. But they’re all going to tell you that differently. My name’s been splattered, stepped on, stretched out, and tacked all over town as this Monster. This person nobody can trust or be a room-mate with. And that scares me more than anything.

While I know that the people I currently am housed with would hopefully never drop kick me like the last three, I still have that stupid ass lingering fear. Because of what happened. And that’s really sad, if you think about it. Three wonderful friends I love and trust with all my heart who I know would never hurt me. Who I couldn’t even imagine having any major issues with. Who I couldn’t even begin to think that I would have to leave so suddenly for some dumbass reason. But old wounds don’t heal so fast. Old ghosts don’t leave you alone so soon. It was around this time last year that I had my most recently removed room-mate. It was the same exact scenario. It was the same song and dance.

I had nowhere to go. I had someone willing to take me in. They were looking for me while out of state. They found something. I came home. I moved in. And it was June-July 2016. It is all. Coming. Back. And it fucking terrifies me.

Like I said, I know it’s not the exact same. These people have been nothing but kind to me. They are a part of my family that I’ve built. They care about me. They love me. They know about my past situations (oh do they ever know and understand). But you have to realize. When it all comes flooding back so fast and so familiar, it’s hard NOT to panic. It’s hard NOT to feel scared. It’s all normal (I think), and it’s all something that I hope they understand, as well as my boyfriend. It’s  . . . it’s just so great and so scary all at the same time. I hate walking on eggshells around people, but I have before and I won’t surprise myself if I do it again for the first few weeks or month. And this, I also hope, they understand.

I have such a problem with asking people for things. For rides, for grocery pick ups, for money if I need it . . . because of past issues with my boyfriend’s parents, my own ex-relatives, my ex-roomies, and so on. It’s something that I’m working on, but every time I get flung back and don’t open my mouth, it seems to be the cause of problems. Then again, whenever I do open my mouth, it causes issues anyway. So I never know what’s right and what’s wrong. So I usually wait for people to come to ME. To ask ME if I need anything. Most times I say no, of course, but. Asking people for / to do things is terrifying to me. And I know where it comes from, of course. But for this, I will be doing my very best to just . . . speak. To voice when something is wrong. To voice when I need something. To voice a concern. To voice . . . anything I should. And hope that it doesn’t blow up like a ticking time bomb in my face all over again.

I’m excited. I can’t wait to be home. I can’t wait to HAVE A HOME finally after two years. But it’s scary. Moving alone is anxiety ridden and scary. But I’m stacking this on top of so many other things. And it’s hard. It really is.

So, yes. Here’s to new beginnings. Here’s to everything I could have hoped for and wanted. Here’s to a fresh start to a 50-50 year so far. Here’s to what I hope to be, a stable home for at least another year or two. Here’s to just everything I have wanted for the last two years and struggled for. It’s new beginnings with old ghosts.

I just hope I can keep those old ghosts away.

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Happy Pride. To All.

It’s Pride Month, 2017 so here we go!

My name is Jeremy. I also go by Brandon , and I also like going by Sloane. My online names can be lordbatty or jacksonngalaxyy. I’m an up and coming Drag Princess by the name of River Styxx. I am going to be 26 years old, I am a female to male pretty boy transguy. I was on testosterone for almost 3 years before a tumor was found and we had to treat that first and foremost. I recently had top surgery (March 9th, 2017) and currently almost 3 months post op.

I want to be a writer. I also want to be a cat behaviorist. I LOVE COFFEE. I love the weather/tornadoes and I want to storm chase at least once in my life. I am fascinated by seahorses. I love going camping. I adore cats. I like to wear makeup sometimes. I talk too loudly sometimes. I am disabled in more ways than you could think up. sometimes I have trouble speaking my feelings. I have depression. I have anxiety. I have an eating disorder. I love anything between Ariana Grande to Krewella. I want to visit Italy some day.

But above everything else, I am Human. Just like everyone else. i have likes, dislikes, relationships, friends, dreams, aspirations, ups and downs.

I also have some of the best friends in the world. I’m friends with drag queens, drag kings, genderfluid people, trans people, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and every in between. They are my family. They are the people who mean the most to me in the whole world. And even though I’ve only known most of them for a year, it feels like I’ve known them for a lifetime. I’m always so … grateful for them. I’m always happy to see them. I’m always so amazed at the family I have created, formed, grown with, and have come to see as nothing but that. Family. My true family.

I also have a great boyfriend and a very personable cat. Both of which , I wouldn’t be here today without. We’ve been together for 4 ½ years and Dylan’s been in my life for 7 years. Between me and my boyfriend, we’ve been through a lot together. And no, not always good. It’s been several ups and downs. It’s also been several amazing days. We’ve had so much happen in the last 4 years and in that time, we’ve grown a lot together and as our own persons. It’s been amazing to see the growth we’ve both had and learning from mistakes, victories, and losses. I love him so much and never did I think I would have such a growing, lasting, long-term, fun, challenging relationship that I do have. And it’s been one of the most rewarding, realest, enriching loves I’ve ever come across in dating.

I’ve traveled around a lot with Dylan. We’ve hopped from plane to plane, car to car, home to home, never knowing where we’ll be or what we will be doing. But we’ve stuck together and he’s been an amazing support animal for me. We support each other, and he has been there for me when I didn’t have anyone or didn’t know what was going to happen or where to turn to.

If you’d have asked pre-transition me where I would be in the next 5 years I would have probably said ‘I don’t know’ or ‘Dead, probably.’ I didn’t know I could have a life outside of … what I grew up with. I didn’t know these wonderful people I now call my family existed. I didn’t know I could BE trans. I didn’t know there was someone out there waiting for me to date and love all of me. I didn’t know I could … BE ME. I didn’t know, and never in a million lifetimes here or now, did I think that in five years … I would still be here, even. never did I think I would find the friends I have today. Never did I think I would transition. never did I think I would even be doing DRAG.

So many bad things have happened in the  last just TWO years (ie. tumor/cancer, being off my shots, countless legal actions against me for being trans, removing my ex-relatives from my life completely was the most recent thing I did, being homeless and couch hopping for almost 2 years, more money/legal issues for being trans, etc), but sometimes I have to try and step back and look at all of the good things and try to hold onto those and think about it.

Good things like top surgery!, embracing my pretty boy nature and saying ‘fuck gender roles, I’m still a man. I can wear whatever the fuck I want and still be me’, stepping my foot into doing Drag and actually landing an official show, surrounding myself with the good people I do have and getting rid of those who just didn’t have a place in my life, cutting off toxic relationships (ie. the ex-relatives), having an ally within the family I can see and trust and talk to , finally landing an apartment with some of the friends I love, getting most of the legal actions taken care of for good, and so much more.

This Pride Month is so much more different for me, in a good way. I can celebrate out, loud, and proud. I can celebrate being me. I can celebrate being trans. I can celebrate my friends, my family, my boyfriend. I can celebrate my top surgery. I can celebrate … so much of me that I have come to see and know. I’ve grown a lot. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve learned a lot. And there’s so much more to that.

This Pride Month is so much better for me. And I am just so happy and grateful for not only my personal self-growth, but for my boyfriend’s, for my friends’ . . I’m grateful for the LGBTQ center as my home and the people who work there and go there.

This Pride Month, for me personally, is such a great one.

And remember if you can’t come out yet or live loud and proud or celebrate openly, that’s okay. Five years ago, I never even had a thought to Pride anything. Because I couldn’t. Five years goes a long way, and I’ve both lived and seen it. Don’t ever check it off. Don’t ever think you won’t get there. Because I certainly never did.

And now I have the biggest LGBTQ circle I’ve ever experienced in my almost 20+ years of life.

Don’t give up. Happy Pride to all. You mean the world to someone.

❤️💛💚💙💜

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Continue reading “Happy Pride. To All.”

You’ve Made Your War. Now I’m Making My Peace. Now I’m Taking My Stand.

This post is a letter. It’s a LONG letter. There is a video embedded. It deals heavily with personal issues. It deals heavily with me calling out bullshit, abuse, and horrible behavior. Please use caution when reading this entry

Contains: transphobia, homophobia, “being not prejudice”, no fucks given, and mentions of abuse (mental/emotional) ~ be warned the video have heavy themes of religion, transphobia, homophobia, touchy subjects, harsh discussion, and just blatant rudeness. if the video content DOES NOT WORK, please tell me in the comments, i can work on fixing it if possible.

If you’re joining me for this ride, thank you. I hope that this helps more people in my situation to realize the gravity of how some “family” treats their LGBTQ relatives. I hope this helps you find peace of mind, and I hope that it helps you realize that it is okay to cut ties and move on.

Always be you. Always be happy.

And always remember, there’s someone out there who truly does care and love you for who you are as a person.

Let’s proceed ♥

*                        *                                     *

Before we press on, I want to make this point as clear as I possibly can. This will be the last time you hear from me. Do not call me, do not text me. Do not look me up on facebook, do not send me any emails. Do not ask around looking for me. Do not ask around trying to contact me. Don’t ask about me, don’t even think of me. Erase me from your existence. Because from what I know to be true, you already have.

Now. Let’s move on.


Let’s start with the graduation party. You have to be some kind of special ridiculousness to pull a stunt like that and not think that I would hear about it or notice. Heck, you even fuckin’ invited me in the midst of some fifty other people you know would not be nice to me. Don’t exactly know what you were trying to do there, other than probably look polite or look nice in the eyes of everyone, but it was pretty low. And that’s not even the lowest part of all that.

To the fact that you purposely placed it on my birthday is nothing short of atrocious. Back that up with you didn’t even ASK to have it at Pam’s house in the first place. Back that up even more with when asked about said party and why you all picked that day and whatnot, people couldn’t even be looked in the eyes when stammering over a “explanation”. I don’t know how you could even be okay with that, but I guess it doesn’t matter since, you know, you only have one child now and that child sure as hell isn’t me.

Which brings me to my next point. Hearing word that you have only one child and Becca doesn’t have a sibling. That’s even lower, and insanely disgusting. You told me once  that ‘we wouldn’t disown you’. Well I’m not sure what you’re calling it in your twisted little world, but I would say that’s a huge red flag right there. Hand in hand with slathering a graduation party right over my birthday like a brand new shiny poster covering up an old, tattered one left on the wall for a few days. Not only am I disgusted and can’t wrap my head around it, but nobody can. Not Bobby’s parents, not my friends, not people I’ve talked to who agree with me on EVERYTHING I am saying but can’t open their mouths about, and definitely not my therapist. Which will bring me onto another point in a few moments. But sit tight, I’m sure you’ve made it this far.

Oh. One more thing:

If you’re pissed off at my “rude tone”/”bad attitude” well then sorry too bad. I have the right to this and I’ve been quiet for far too long. Enough is enough and this ends now. I’m done being quiet. I’m actually being really polite, all things considered. I could have written worse. And you know it.

Before I get to the therapist portion, as if the birthday-graduation party thing wasn’t enough, your horribly ill-mannered reaction to my telling you I have a tumor and basically have to take treatment pills every week to combat the tumor / cancer . . . I don’t even know where to begin with that. At first, I wasn’t even going to bother telling anyone because I knew it would not matter. Nobody was going to give a flying fuck. Not like everyone else did who’d come to the house twice, sat with me, talked to me, took me out, and tried to help me forget about it. Who helped buy my $30 medication for said treatment. Who checks in on me REGULARLY both in person and messaging. I haven’t heard snippet of anyone in how long? Weeks? I don’t hear jack unless I message first and honestly, I don’t like to in the long run.

But back to the tumor conversation. It was baffling to myself and so many people that you first only commented on me flying and how could I fly with a tumor. THEN went so far as to say that surgery probably shouldn’t have happened with the tumor if they’d have found it in the bloodwork, which they did. Then didn’t comment for several seconds or minutes until you decided to say Becca had a MRI and didn’t like it. Which … didn’t even relate to the topic much at all and was totally derailed. And your favorite sentence repeated several times (“K”) and basically that was that until flight day. I merely told you out of courtesy for your guys’ health since I knew there had been imbalances in the past. But honestly? What courtesy do I owe anyone with the way I’m treated?

I don’t even know how to properly comprehend the conversation. If your child comes to you saying “Hey I have cancer/a tumor and this and that” . . . you don’t react so poorly. So bland. But then again. I’m not anyone’s child anymore, so I guess that makes more sense now, doesn’t it? It just simply does not matter.

I’m saving the worst (best) for last, so I’ll just move onto the therapist part.

I’m seeing a therapist. Weekly. Maybe more if I have to. To get rid of all this fucked up mental and emotional abuse I’ve stacked up over the last who knows years. And yeah, I know what  everyone’s thinking or saying already. “WE NEVER ABUSED YOU HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?! WE HAVE ALWAYS DONE EVERYTHING FOR YOU. YOU DIDN’T HAVE IT BAD.”

Well then. Let me just pull out my notebook of receipts and take you on this ride even further.

Everyone’s living in 1991. I’m not that sick little child anymore who needs 300 doctors, has this or that, needs this or that. I’ve done so well on my own in the last few years and I’m proud of it. I’ve become healthy enough to not need the GTube. I dropped so many medications. I haven’t needed to go on multiple doctor excursions since North Carolina. I’m so tired of everyone living in the past and “you almost died when you were born”, “you don’t know what we’ve done for you over the years”, etc etc etc. I’m not talking about then. Ever. I’m talking about NOW. How I’m treated and looked at NOW. How disgusting and twisted and distorted your views on “family” is NOW. It’s honestly toxic and damaging to everyone. But of course, you’ll never see that. You’re all so perfect. You’re all so loving, polite, and caring. Let me tell you something. Bobby’s parents have been more accepting, kind, caring, and TRYING than you in the last seven years I’ve been out. And they’ve only known me shy of four years with being with Bobby. So I mean. You can’t blame it on generational stuff. You can’t even blame it on religion anymore. It’s purely personal now. And that’s horrific.

Emotional and mental abuse are real, whether you wanna believe you weren’t horrible parents/relatives or not. You may have never hit me, but that doesn’t matter. It’s just as real, and it’s just as damaging. And you will have no idea, because you refuse to believe it.

And all of this and more? Oh, it’s going to take many, many, many years to sort out and let go of and stop. It’s going to take lots of therapy. It’s going to take my friends, my boyfriend (yeah that’s right. We aren’t lesbians. We aren’t girlfriends. But you know what? That just goes right along with EVERYTHING else, doesn’t it?), and the people I’ve known for just a year that have become way more family than you have in the last seven. You know who’s messaged me in the last year? You know who’s called? Who’s come to the house to see me? Who’s helped me with food and money? That’s right.

I used to think religion was a huge factor and it is. But it’s also a mask. You use it to justify your actions, your behaviors, and your overall life and what “family” is to you. Family to you is people who have done everything for you, who X, Y, and Z. Who are forced into sticking around. Who are guilted, gaslighted, manipulated, and lied to. Your twisted senses of reality around you and what you define as family is . . . alarming. You know what family is????

  • Family are people who show up at your house when you need them to. Who want to hang out with you, who help you with monetary necessities, who take you to where you need to go, and who house you and not ask for much in return.
  • Family are people who DON’T treat you like a display or a science fair project to be “woooowwwww”ed and “i can’t even believe it” over and ask you about every little thing about yourself and gender, what bathroom you use, why you do that, when do you do this, why surgery, why that, i hope you change back and change your attitude, etc etc ; when they aren’t being educated at all, they’re just being them and looking to pick arguments.
  • Family are people you can talk to any time of the day about heavy stuff, bad stuff, good stuff, and who will carry you through every single bad and good thing and not remind you ENDLESSLY about “well when you were sick and in the hospital we did X Y and Z for you”. no. they support you in THAT time and we move on with life, better or worse. (stated previously)
  • Family is what you make it. I’ve made mine. I know who they are. I know their names. I see their faces. I know how they treat me. I know that they REALLY are the ones who love and care for me.


I  know who my family is.

I suggest that you better shape up yours.

 

Onto my next point. A video. Recorded a year ago TODAY (May 16th, 2016). Only few knew about this at first, but my god. It’s the worst thing anyone could ever lay ears on. So let’s dive a little further.

That is, if you’ve made it this far.

 

I can also account for several different occasions to where this isn’t the only time in the last two years. The first time I decided to dress less than feminine, I was told that I wouldn’t be taken out in public “looking like that”. At the time, it’s ironic, that you had stood up for me saying it was “just clothes”. But as soon as I find my true self and come forth with it, it’s a problem. It’s not just clothes anymore. Now it’s some huge ordeal and issue that I need to snap out of and go to therapists and church for. It’s kind of laughable.

The summer we went to North Carolina for the first time to meet everyone? I remember the one thing that was said to me was “If you’re going to be together and chose this life, why does one of you have to be the boy?” Can’t shake that one off, and you can’t argue that one, either.

When I came out as lesbian first, and was dating Sam and all of that stupidness happened? The one thing I remember that was said to me, again, was “You know what the Bible says about that.” I lived in fear of going out in public with you guys, around church people, around Mark and everyone else the years following that until I was able to move out and be my own person. The time Julie ended up sending you emails and causing unneeded chaos after I really did (sort of) come out as trans? That was the end of it. It was one of the reasons, yes, I did move to NC. It was one of several reasons.

More recently, when I was living back in Poland last summer. Nobody wanted to take me out in public. Nobody wanted to take me to the store, the movies with them (which prompted the argument in said video because Becca didn’t want me to go to the movies with her), camping, etc. I was barely talked to or engaged unless it was for dinner, to argue about something stupid, or ask me questions about this or that. Minor things, whatever. Not the point. I was an embarrassment to everyone, and it was made very very fuckin’ clear to me. Nobody had to say anything. And the only reason I had to come back was because of all that bullshit with Shauna and Zack. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made that choice on my own. Brings me to my next point:

Not only that, but I’ve pretty much been couch hopping and homeless for the last two years (since I left Poland in Sept 2016-now). Because I refuse to step foot in that house or even in Poland for that matter. I refuse to be around this . . . toxic environment that’s been created. Not only surrounding me and my life, but literally everything else that has been going on. It should say something to you that I would rather have the stress of not knowing where I will be tomorrow or even the next months or weeks than be there. That should speak volumes. But I doubt it will. Since you all seem to be such upstanding model citizens and “family”. Still, it should at least make you think a little.

Really, though, the thing that broke it all for me and is the end all to be all was the whole graduation party debacle. That and claiming that you only have one child/she’s the only child. That’s really . . . dense. I don’t know how you can act like that, then still claim “we love you no matter what”, “we don’t support your life, but we still love you, you’re still family”. That’s not family. That’s not human. That’s disgusting. And I’ll say it again and again, whether you get it through your heads or not.

You’ve created such a toxic hole in the floor that people are literally going left and right to get away from it. Like I said, don’t be surprised that I’ve heard things. That I know what’s going on. We’ve always been drama seekers/starters/involving ourselves in each other’s business and causing problems. I just can’t believe that someone would stoop so low as to literally throw me away like I don’t exist. Not only from one person, but from several. This is not an isolated incident. And you can’t claim it otherwise. This has been going on for a while. And you can’t say it hasn’t.

Nobody should go to this length to make sure that they are embarrassed about their child/family member. Nobody should take such drastic, dramatic, argumentative, horrific measures that have been taken here. Nobody should be that ashamed of their child / relative PERIOD.

And I know that not a one of you are going to see it that way. But of course I’ll be in the wrong. Because of course ‘you’re the one living this life, so of course you’re not going to see it’. At this point, it’s far far far beyond any excuses and any stupid reason you have for behaving this way. It’s personal at this point. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have totally erased my birthday on purpose. And Becca wouldn’t mention that she’s an only child. This is too far gone and I have no reason to press further into trying to mend any form of relationship at all. I shouldn’t have to feel pressured into talking to anyone because “we’re still family”. I am an adult, and who I chose to keep in my life is my choice alone. Releasing toxicity and negativity is something I’ve learned to do. And I’m doing it now. No more silence, no more appeasing you, no more tip-toeing. I’ve had it and I’m ending it here. I’m sick and tired of playing nice, and I’m done.

You can take with this what you will. I know everyone’s going to get pissed off about it and say every little bad thing about me. That’s fine. Say what you want. If you want to make me out to be this bad person over and over and over again by saying things that are fucking 100% true, then that’s your problem. If you wanna say bad, nasty, mean things about me and call me out, then do it. Just know I won’t be around to hear it, so it’ll fall on deaf and also manipulated ears. People will take your side, sure. But I know very well who’s on mine. Video was proof enough to my friends, to Bobby, to just about anyone who’s seen it that this is exactly the way I am treated. And it’s gone on long enough, and it’s not one isolated incident.

I don’t have to excuse or forgive anyone. Have it your twisted Christian way, sure, but I don’t have to forgive my abusers. I don’t have to subject myself to “well they were nice sometimes”. Sometimes nice and sometimes supportive and sometimes doing things for me doesn’t excuse behavior. It never will, and I don’t have to kneel before you just because of reason X, Y, Z, done this or that for you. It was done out of ‘well I have to’ , or more or less so  that you looked like the pretty, polite, kind family you so desperately want for the world to see. Sure, before you did things for me because you loved me once. But recently in the last, oh, seven or so years? Not so much. It became routine to just do things for me, talk to me on holidays only, and respond to messages only when  I engaged first. It became robotic. And for a while, I tolerated it. For a while, I thought it was something. Now it’s just . . . intolerable. It fucking hurts, the way everyone’s did me wrong. And if you want to deny it, then fine. But I’m not going to be expected to hold on much longer. I’m cutting the rope, and I’m dotting my last i and crossing my last t.

Maybe someday you’ll change your attitudes. And then we can talk. But if not, then I don’t know what to tell you or what to say to you.

Life’s funny sometimes, but I know I can at least do something about some of the things that are happening. This is one of them. This is my first step into a lighter future. Lighter, happier, and real. I’ve only met a handful of my friends since last year, and in addition to Bobby and his parents. They all have done so much more for me, loved me, and supported me than that I’ve had in the last who knows when from any of you. I’m shocked at the overwhelming amount of . . . love and hope and support and family that I have found and made my own. It’s so much more than I could have ever thought possible. Even though it’s been a shit two years for me, I’ve had fun. I’ve had experiences I never ever ever would have dreamt I could because of your anti-world, anti-lgbt, anti-everything way of thinking. I have more friends than I ever had growing up. I can go places I never knew existed. I have community. I have life. I have family. I don’t need your twisted, destructive views on what family is.

So think about that. Think about what I said. Think about how I’m feeling. If you even want to. Think about how twisted and sad this all sounds. Really look at yourselves, if you can. You have to have some sort of humility. You have to have some kind of little voice in your head that is fucking telling you that you are very wrong here. You gotta have some kind of conscious to even have made the decisions you have made and said the things you have. You may think I’m being rude and have a tone and I’m attacking you, but listen. You have got to know even just a little bit in the deepest, farthest, darkest reaches of your mind that you’ve placed in a little box. That I’m right. And that you hurt me far more than you care to admit. You’re all human here. Strip away religion, ways of life, personalities . . . we’re all human. You have to know that. And if you don’t, then I feel sorry for you.

As I said in the beginning, this will be the last time you’ll hear from me. Maybe if everyone shapes up their attitude in a few years, we can sit down like adults and talk. Maybe I can forgive you, maybe not. Maybe nothing will be restored ever again. Whatever the case may be, and whatever happens just know that I did this for me. I had hoped for seven plus long years that things would change. That maybe I could salvage something if I worked harder at it. If I talked to you more. If I came over sometimes. If I invited you to come say hey. If I messaged you. If I called. Everything began to fall on deaf ears. And in between giving bland fucks about the tumor situation and the graduation party, and claiming that there was only one child????

Well. That was probably the push I needed to get to this point. I had hoped, maybe another year to try. And I could work on either just letting go quietly, slowly, and politely. Not so much, sadly. You’ve picked this battle, and I’m sorry that you think so lowly of me as you all do. I’m sorry that you had to go this route of destruction and hate. And I am sorry that you chose this.

I was, at one point, willing to work with everyone. I was willing to try and be nice. I had been nice, in fact. Which is why I argued so strongly in said video and tried to help people understand left and right. Just treat me like a fucking person. But no, you couldn’t even do that. So I’m done being pushed around, questioned, being silenced, being hidden, and being afraid. You may tell people there’s only one child, but they’re not stupid. I’m out there still, (and I really hope you haven’t told people I moved away, ran off, died, or some other horrible cover up story for saying “I’m an only child”, “I only have one child”, “I don’t have a sibling”. You could have fashioned any story at this point. Unless you truly are dumb enough to tell people you have disowned me for good. But people would probably applaud you for that ANYWAY) and you can’t hide that. You cannot hide the fact I am alive, I exist, and I am loud. You cannot dim this light, and you never will. I want you to remember that. I want you to live that.

To end this, there are points below. I don’t care who read this entire thing first, I have some small words. So here we go.

Tracy: Most of this was for you. So if you read this first, then I don’t have anything further to say.

Ajay: Good luck to you, honestly. I mean it.

Becca:  I don’t even know what to say to you. I’m hurt, mostly. That’s mostly what I can say.

Pam: Keep doing what you’re doing.

Everyone else: I’m sure you’ve all read this by now in full. Most of it was for you, too. If you’ve watched the video, I’m not sorry for it. I needed to record it. I needed people to see what was happening. I needed to document what garbage it all was. I needed to show my hurt. I’ve nothing more to say here, either.

So that’s it. I’ve said what I had to. Now it’s on your shoulders. It’s up to you what you do from here. But like I said, I’m cutting the ties right now. I’ve had enough, and it’s time for me to move forward. This is the final word, and I will have the final word here and now. You can argue with everyone else about this, you can say what you want. But I will not and do not want to hear it. I will not subject myself back into the endless cycle I so desperately tried to get myself out of. I’ve crawled here, fought here, and managed to get this far. Writing this was anxiety inducing because I know exactly how the reaction is going to be. But it was a push in the right direction from my therapist, my friends, and more importantly to myself. I’d been lying to myself for so long about trying to make things right. I ended up hurting myself over and over again. Now I’m fed up and hurt even more.

All I can say is it that it was the right push.

No need to thank me. It’s what you wanted, after all, isn’t it?

So you’re welcome.

-Jeremy

 

Dear Mother’s Day

I see you there with your cutesy ads on tv and you’re cozy feelings about mom loves you no matter what you are, who you become, or what you’ve done. I see you in loving gift giving, hugs, kisses, ‘I love you’s’ and all the things you’re supposed to see, do, and have on this day.

I see you, but more than anything. You don’t see us.

You don’t see the kids like me, (or even adults, let’s be real here) who don’t have today to celebrate. We don’t have a mother to celebrate, or even a motherly figure. Whether she’s parted long ago, been abusive to you, or just isn’t in your life for any reason at all. Mother’s Day is not for everyone and for kids like me, it’s a day we fear the most. It’s a day we rather not discuss. And it’s a day we really don’t want to acknowledge.

Sadly, some of you may have to acknowledge your mother on this day, even if you don’t want to. Maybe she’s gaslighting you. Maybe she’s making you because “you have to love me, I’m your mother” or “I’ve done everything for you, and you act like I’m the most horrible person in the world?” If this is the case, I am truly sorry and I hope you can get through the day as smoothly as possible. I’ve been there, believe me. I have been there time and time again. And I hope someday soon, you’ll be able to get out of it.

For many others, like myself, especially if you’re LGBTQ+, it’s hard as well. I’m unraveling years of abuse from Tracy and in recent light of events (despite CONSTANT “we would never disown you” in the last few years of me coming out as trans), suddenly I’m not even her child anymore (stated in more recent blogs). So for this reason, it’s bitter. I’m bitter. I’m angry. As much as I don’t give a fuck anymore about her and her fucking thoughts and views on who I am as a person, much less not even her fuckin’ child anymore, it still sucks on this day. Because while everyone else is posting long statuses with photos, and heartfelt comments and greetings to their mother, I’m left sitting here despising my own and wondering why the fuck she couldn’t just be an adult and love me anyway. And I’m wondering why I still fucking care so much when I shouldn’t. If this is the same case for you on this day, then know you’re not alone. Like myself, there’s so many of us who are hateful and bitter and hurting today. It’s okay. Don’t be ashamed of that. Today is not the day for your m*ther if she’s been as hurtful and abusive as Tracy.

Maybe your mother has passed on, whether recent or many many years ago. If this is the case for you, I am sorry for your loss. I hope today goes by smoothly for you, too, and that you can think about happy memories you’ve had with your mom and smile. While it may be hard, I hope that you can remember the good times, even some bad if it comes with a bit of good, and find a way to honor her on this day. May you find light and love this year, and every year that follows.

Dear Mother’s Day: today is not for everyone and I wish that more people understood that. Whether it is for the reasons above or even if you have two moms and of course the media doesn’t show that enough in their commercials. Take the time for YOU today, no matter what your reason is. Play a video game if you can, listen to some of your favorite music, watch some YouTube, watch some cartoons. Turn off the tv because all of the commercials are just . . . stifling. Do something for YOU today, either after you have loved your mother if she’s with you, you’ve been forced to interact with your mother if she’s abusive and negative, or you’ve honored your mother if she’s passed. Please take a few hours , if you can , for you today as well. Your mental and emotional health is just as important as celebrating this day. No matter what your standing is with your mom.

To everyone on this day who maybe isn’t having it the best: please don’t feel bad about today. Don’t feel guilty about hating the day. And please do remember to care for yourself. Everything you think or feel is human, especially on days surrounding relatives or parents. Don’t ever feel like you’re obligated to love someone just because they’re, well, “family”.

So no, I do not celebrate today  Will I ever one day with maybe a mother figure or something? Maybe, I don’t know. But for now, I rather not think about it too much if I can help it. Maybe the years will get better as they go by. Maybe it won’t bother me so much as I get older. Maybe it won’t even register that it’s a special holiday, just a normal weekday. At least, that is my hope for now.

In ending,

Dear Mother’s Day:

Please don’t forget about the rest of us.

 

Don’t Be Scared. It’s Normal.

I made a post on here a few weeks ago, announcing my top surgery day and how I felt surrounding it. It’s been almost a little over two weeks since said surgery day has happened and there’s still a lot of feeling around the whole thing.

Let me start off by saying that I read an article last night browsing on my Facebook from FTM Magazine that touched a bit on post surgery depression. Before surgery, I was experiencing pre surgery depression and anxiety. Of which were completely normal after speaking with a few brothers and friends about how I felt. I figured as much, honestly. Secondly let me state that the article in question (which I will link below this write-up) was totally accurate. It was a total  nail hit on the head , I won’t lie. It completely explained why I have been feeling so exhausted and bleh. I have also been super irritable feeling towards everyone (ie. housemates, friends, the cats, my boyfriend and so on . . .) and everything as of late. The constant on and off sleeping (it is 3:30am as I began writing this. I went to bed at 9PM and only slept up until about midnight.) Plus being under house arrest for the latter of the two weeks after March 9th makes a person want to yank their hair out. I’m not much for being a homebody most of the time. I like to go out and have my walks and socializing.

The thing with major surgery is that it takes a lot of of you, and I should know from experience. It is a huge tolling experience for a quite a while. Your body has to have time to heal from trauma, and with that comes a lot of other physical and also mental exhaustion. Add on the stress of life and things going on with me personally right now, pain medications, and not being able to sleep properly or comfortably. Well, you get my drift. It makes for a wonderful Misery Soup.

I’m happy I got my surgery, do not get me wrong. It’s something I worked very hard to get and took a lot of struggle for me to get here. I’m so glad it happened. I’m so glad for the people who helped me get here. I’m so happy with my loving support the day it came. True be it that I can’t show a lot of emotion right now for it what with between exhaustion, pain pills every six hours, and lots of stress and little to no sleep, I am very happy and thrilled to have gotten to this point in my journey of life.

When you read the article, it explained how this person felt the day before, of, and after their top surgery. All of which were 100% valid and 100% accurate with me as well. People came to me asking me if I was excited or I must be vibrating with happiness and honestly? I wasn’t. And that sounds so shitty to say, but it was a normal feeling. A lot of transfolks who come to with their surgery, even hours before it happens (like the article stated) feel the same exact way. I wasn’t alone and suddenly I didn’t feel like such a bad person for not exuberating pure rainbows and sparkles for this big event in my life. I almost felt like a hypocrite. After all the fight and tears and struggle, I should have been nothing but a shining example of excitement. But I wasn’t. Not until the IV went into my arm did I feel some small semblance of happiness and excitement along with anxiety and nerves. I’ve had 33 surgeries throughout my 25 years of life. And they all felt the same. Top surgery was no exception.

I know that after another two to three weeks of annoyance, I’ll start really feeling good. It’ll sink in more and more every time I look at myself and each time I see more healing throughout the rest of this year. But for right now, it’s okay. I can feel these things. I can feel nothing, in fact. I can be annoyed with the process and life. I can feel a little agitated and stir crazy. I can sleep for five hours, stay up the rest of the day and repeat the cycle for the time being. I can take my meds, I can cry, I can be irritable, I can just be for now. I try not to be, honestly, however. I don’t want to be in a bad mood, but it’s understandable I should hope. In 25 years having 33 surgeries and being in and out of hospitals and bad health problems, I know for a fact this is okay. It’s totally normal. Your body doesn’t know how to handle or process extreme trauma and life changes that comes with surgery and medical ordeals. It’s a lot to handle and process. It’s a lot for your body to rejuvenate.

So if you’re a transgender identifying person looking to get their surgery and are worried or scared about the post or even pre surgery depression/anxiety: it’s okay. It’s totally normal, it’s completely valid, and you are not a bad person for thinking or feeling the way that you are. Take it from someone who knows from several experiences with surgery and most recently, yes, with top surgery. Take it from several of other transfolks who had their surgery and went through the same thing.

It’s 100% normal. It’s 100% okay. And I’m proud of you for being you.

 

Article: https://ftmmagazine.com/post-op-depression/

It’s Gonna Be Bad Tonight

Tomorrow I will be having top surgery. This is a common procedure for most trans identifying persons and sometimes even some non binary people. And while I’m super excited and can’t wait to see what all of my years of struggle will finally unfold for me, it’s also . . . terrifying. There’s a lot of mixed emotions going on and no, I don’t mean bad. And I don’t say that because I’m going to ‘regret it.’ Anything big like that, you’re going to get a fuck ton of emotions coming at you. This is especially evident for me with my whole . . . lack of familial support and all.

I have fought for a long time in being who I am. And it took me even longer to get just shy of 22 hours away from surgery. The most major surgery I could ever hope to get in my freedom and in being myself. And it’s okay to have all of these feelings. It’s okay to feel like you’re on a roller coaster. That doesn’t mean you’re wanting to back out. It doesn’t mean you think you’re going to regret it. Anyone would feel this much range of emotions after fighting for so long and having the hard road I’ve been on. Especially if you also don’t have any immediate family support. I don’t know everyone’s story, but that doesn’t matter. Even if you do have the support, feeling those range of emotions is totally normal. And I just have to remind myself of this. And that it’s okay.

I’m excited. I’m beyond excited. But I’m also very stressed out and nervous. I mean, who isn’t with surgery? But with this big of a change, it’s ten fold. But I know once it’s all over and done and I’ve come that far across the line, I’ll feel better. Not immediately, no, but I will feel better.

I wish I had more support coming with me. I wish I had what I used to. I’m never going to stop saying that. I’ll eventually stop thinking that, sure. But nothing is going to change the fact that it’s not going to happen. I’m very grateful for my boyfriend coming tomorrow, yes, along with one other additional support. But it’s not the same as anyone else. Not the same as Them. And it never will be. And people understand that. The biggest point in my life and my transitioning and the people who should care about me the most no matter what will not be around. And that’s . . . that’s foreign to me. And even though I know everyone else is more of a family to me than They ever will be now, it’s still tough. I’m lucky to have them all. I love them all. They’ve all done more for me than I could ever hope in the last few years and the last year to be more recent. It’s just different. It’s . . . it’s upsetting. I won’t lie.

Today’s my last day with boobs. It is my last full day wearing a binder. And honestly, I’ve never been more relieved, scared, nervous, and excited in my life. Knowing the face of America today terrifies me as my surgery approaches. Knowing that if I’m ever around Them, taking my shirt off is going to be a whole new warhead path. Knowing that I could be at any moment in any kind of danger is nerve wrecking. Feeling how They are talking about or approaching tomorrow is sickening. There’s so much going on around me and in my head that it’s causing a flood of emotions. And again, that’s okay. I can’t celebrate as much as I’d have loved to. With people I thought maybe I would have made progress with. But I can celebrate with those who truly love , care , and accept me. I’m not a side show. I’m not something to pray about. I’m not a passing ‘fad’. I’m not changing my mind. I’ve come this far. I’m never going back.

I am who I am. And I have fought blood, sweat, tears, tooth, nail, legal systems, friends, people abroad, doctors, pharmacies, insurances, myself even, and hopping from living space to living space just to keep my sanity and stay away from Them permanently. I put my foot down a long time ago. It’s not coming up now.

Tomorrow is going to be the biggest day of my life. It’s going to be the most important day of my transitioning journey. And today is going to be one hell of a rollercoaster.

And that’s more than okay.

I’m Angry

I’m angry. I’m angry and I’m hurt. I’m hurt by the world around me and the world within myself. I’m angry and I’m hurt , I’m fearful and I’m lost. I’m angry because it hurts and I hurt because I’m so angry.

 

The world is dark both in my line of sight and in my own personal space. I have to remember that those around me have it so far worse so that makes me s sidelined. I have to wait my turn. The world is ugly and so am I. My thoughts are a lie but they’re my best friend most times. I chose to believe them because it’s the one and only thing I’ve known all my life and any act or word or bit of kindness feels fake, it feels wrong. I’m not worthy of such love, I am not worthy of attention. The world around me is breaking apart at the seams , but so am I. Yet. I must wait my turn.

 

I feel as though my thoughts don’t matter my actions must be kept secret, my smiles never failing. Laugh a lot, complain a little, say you’re okay just to take some of the pain away. Or make it grow. The scars on my body tell me it’s worth it. Tell me that’s relief, they tell me that it’s addictive and God. It is very addictive.

 

I wish I spoke as well as I wrote, I could vent more to people, could tell the ones I love know I hurt, but I’m so afraid. Afraid of the anger, afraid of the hurt, afraid of the disappointment and afraid of the rejection. It’s all a lie I know this to be true but in my head and in my ugly thoughts and my heart , it’s too weak. It’s too scary, too vulnerable and too plain. Won’t it be the worst of me? It’s like looking at the bottom of a pool and you know there is a bottom, but you’re afraid to jump in. What if there is no bottom? What if you sink.

 

I wish for people I can’t have and drive away those who I wish to keep. My mother can’t look into the eyes of a son she doesn’t want. My friends come and go and that’s just life I guess, but the more I hurt and the more I talk, the more I’m angry and the more they start drifting away like sailboats just over the horizon. I can barely see them. Maybe I should be alone , maybe with my thoughts or not at all. Maybe the people I love and the people I see they just tolerate me or maybe not at all. Maybe it’s pity , maybe it’s not but again. Maybe these are all just lies, really.

 

I’m not afraid of death but of the act itself, I’m afraid of what can happen after and what will become of what I’ve left behind, but maybe just maybe I won’t leave behind a lot. Things can get taken care of, my cat can have a home without worry and maybe. Life will just go on.

 

It’s like my thoughts won’t come out in words off paper and if they did would anyone listen? I feel overworked, stressed beyond my stretching point and lost of hope for the better world to come, yet I’m trying to keep my head above water, trying to swim, trying to breathe a little more each day. Trying to be human, trying to be loving. Trying to be helpful, to be a friend and be selfless above all else. Drowning is evident, I know that to be true and if I were to dip my head under the cold, calming waters what would that do?

 

Will I be here tomorrow, or there the next day? Will I have a comfortable place to lay my head each night without worry of where to go next? Can I live happily, can I be peaceful with myself, can I just … live for one day?

 

There are few I keep in my heart I love them so much but why? Why! Am I afraid so much to speak my kind and talk to them and open up? Maybe it’s the nagging, maybe it’s the negativity, but my God it’s the depression I scream every single day. I get up every day and wonder what I am worth, where is my life going, and who am I to anyone? Can I get through this chore, can I make that phone call today, will the depressive episodes and the constant chronic physical pain cease for just maybe a moment?! If I ask for help, is it a bother, will I be annoying or will they see me as weak? Do they want to help me, does anyone look through my viewfinder or maybe it’s just politeness , maybe just so.

 

The world around us is so bleak and my world alone is no match against it. My problems are merely a pebble but is the biggest rock I carry on my shoulder, day after day , wondering where I can leave it or when I can start chipping at it until it ceases to exist completely. We live in dark times and I’m reminded of how small I am. How my worries, my fears, my complaints and my own understanding of pain isn’t worth speaking up against. Maybe it’ll pass. Maybe a good day will happen or two, and I can forget about it for a while. Maybe I can replace my jars with new ones and keep stocking up until my closet is too full. Maybe nobody will notice. Can I forget and let my voice be heard in other ways for other people. Be there for all, a friend to some, and a parental guidance to others. Be the shoulder, be the lover. Don’t fight it, it’s what you’re made for. It’s why you’re here. It’s who you are.

 

If I could be more open, I would be more free, but the daily routine of my head just won’t allow it to happen. I’m afraid of myself, I’m afraid of my voice and more often than not I’m afraid of my demons and letting them out but sometimes they’re my best friends and worst enemy all in one so what then! What happens then ?

 

You fake it to make it in the world you live in the one around you and the one you keep hidden. Maybe you’re more open than I am and for that I can commend you, but for the rest of us who deal with the black shadows in the corner, the monsters who hold our hands, and the past we keep locked in search of some closure or change, please! I beg you don’t forget us. We are all fighting a battle , and you  never  know just when the last one will be.

 

So yes. I am angry. I am angry and I am sad. And above all else before, I have the right to be these things. My emotions are valid and my feelings are true. I don’t want to be ashamed for this but I don’t want to seem selfish or rude. I’m hurt in the worst ways , my scars bearable my naked eye and those with a listening ear. They’re visible unto myself and heard like your favorite song played over. And over. And over again. It might be wrong, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. It doesn’t mean I should go unnoticed and it doesn’t mean that I should play pretend.

 

But in a world such as this and a world of your own personal accordance. Isn’t it easier to do so?

 

I am angry and I’m hurt. I’m sad and I am defeated. I stand up every day with the same old sword and a new fight. It’s a guess to who will win but for now, it seems that I may have the winning tally. That doesn’t make me any more inspiring. It doesn’t make me any less hurt , or angry , or lost. 

 

I am angry and I’m hurt. I am sad and I am afraid. And for now, that’s a comfort I know best. Sad but true to words, and true of heart. There’s nothing else I know right now, and that is not any one person’s fault. It’s okay to feel, and it’s okay to be. It’s okay to stand up and fight, it’s okay to have a voice.

 

Unfortunately, as it stands, sometimes it tends to be a little easier for some than others.