A Valentine for My Community

chronic illness, community, crazy, disability, genderfluid, genderqueer, mental illness, non-binary, resilience, self-care, sick, trans, transgender, transphobia, Valentine's Day

Source: https://img0.etsystatic.com/000/1/5289670/il_340x270.196259270.jpg

TW: transphobia, ableism, abuse, trauma, denial of self

Valentine’s Day has never been my favorite holiday. OK, I’ve absolutely hated it. But I wanted to use today to send out a valentine to my fam, to my community. I want to thank you for being alive and being you, every day. I want to thank you for having the courage to find yourself and be yourself, despite all odds. Even when it doesn’t seem like you have a choice, thank you for going down that path anyway. Thank you for holding and nurturing your selves, your real selves, even when it feels so hard to do it.

Thank you for holding each other up, for reaching out to others again and again. Thank you for writing and building community, as you can, if you can. Choosing to be ourselves in this world is choosing to stand up to a lifetime, a society’s worth of abuse and trauma and no no nos.

But again and again, we claim ourselves. We take ourselves from the clutches of a world that likes to determine who we are for us, and we wrap our selves in blankets, hold our selves close, watch our selves grow.

Whether or not you are involved with someone else this year, and however that relationship is, take the time to celebrate the love for yourself that has gotten you this far, and the love for yourself that will get you through. Because that is the strength and beauty and toughness of our community: self-love, even when mixed with shame, even when it’s hard to find, even when we don’t have it—finding our selves, being our selves, is self-love, despite it all.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you for being here. Thank you for holding on enough to be here.

We will thrive someday. We can thrive.

Always remember yourself, OK?

Dreaming While Sick, Crazy, and Trans

ableism, agender, chronic illness, dehumanization, disability, dysphoria, gender fluid, genderqueer, mental illness, misgendering, non-binary, pronouns, PTSD, saneism, suicidal ideation, transgender

TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of suicidal ideation & statistics, also discussion of general oppression of sick, crazy, and trans people

 

We all have hopes, goals, dreams. We all want that shit to happen real bad. I think part of why it’s so hard to look forward in life as a sick, crazy, trans person, even for me, who has a fuckton of advantages, is that it seems like this shit is going to stop us in our tracks. We aren’t supposed to be “useful” or have goals or be able to interact with “society,” whatever that is. We aren’t supposed to be able to make an impact on those around us, at least not a positive one. We aren’t supposed to have futures.

And, too often, many of us don’t have futures. Many of us don’t see a future for ourselves. We fear that others will cut short our lives and our dreams or just our daily getting by. Many of us worry that no one will see us as worthwhile, for any of the above reasons. And it’s killing us. I know that, if you add up the attempted suicide rates for all the different diagnoses I have, plus my trans identity, it’s pretty fucking high. PTSD: 27%. Depression: 20%. Secondary care for IBS: 16%. Non-binary trans: 43%.

That’s a pretty fucking scary list. I have never taken statistics, and those are some scary statistics. I think sometimes about how suicidal ideation probably wouldn’t even be as present for me, though, if there wasn’t the shame compounding this stuff. Yes, I still might be a little crazy. Yes, I’d still be in pain sometimes from IBS. Yes, I’d still be trans and I’d experience physical dysphoria (not that all trans people do–but in this utopia, social dysphoria would be mitigated almost instantly). But in some utopian world where people accept you where you are, where people envision futures for all people coming from everywhere, where people don’t assume genders and affirm everyone, in this utopian world, I would feel like my dreams are more possible. I would feel like my life is more possible.

We don’t live in that world, though, and I know that you, like me, probably need some encouragement to get where you need to go. You need the encouragement to keep on getting out of bed (if you can) every day, maybe, to eat some food, maybe, to talk to people around you, even, or not, if you need to. You need encouragement to live your daily life, sometimes. I know I do, when I’m sick, crazy, and trans. Which is all the time. Sometimes just the sheer logistics of negotiating your life are too much. I want to say that that struggle is enough. It is good. It is important and noble. Thank you for doing it. Thank you for continuing to exist and live and love and care, and, yes–

dream. Thank you for holding onto those dreams even when everything seems to be falling about your ears.

They are possible. They are beautiful. They can happen. Existing is enough, and, yes, there is a future, and it is not only about a daily struggle, the daily struggle to actually do the dishes or floss your teeth or to get through the pain or for people to use your right pronouns or to be seen as a fucking whole human being. This is all life is, and it is not all life is. You can and do have a future as a trans person, as a sick person, as a crazy person, as someone with a disability. Remember that you deserve this shit just as much as anybody else. You have a right to be here. You have a right to be valued, to be heard. You have a right to be your own fabulous gendered self. You have a right to your mind and your feelings and for holding them, or not, however you need. You have a right to be sick in bed all day. And you have a right to take the space and place in the world that you have longed for.

Many people will say that you do not have a right to these things. But I see you, here, still living each day. I see you holding onto your dreams. I can’t say all your dreams are going to come true, or that shit is easy, because it’s not. But why not have dreams? They are wings on our heart. We all can use some wings sometimes.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

–Langston Hughes

Also, some resources:

If you’re feeling suicidal, please ask yourself these questions. Is there anyone you can call to be with you right now, even if they aren’t someone who’s 100% affirming? What things can calm you down or make you feel better? Consider making a madness map: http://www.theicarusproject.net/article/mad-maps-building-trails-to-where-we-want-to-be-input-needed. What kinds of things do you want to do to yourself? Are you thinking of hurting yourself or someone else? If so, PLEASE call any or all of these numbers (I unfortunately don’t have numbers that are outside the US:

The Fenway GLBT Helpline: 1-888-340-4520

GLBT National Hotline: 1-888-843-4564

Q Hotline: 866-539-2727

If you’re 24 or under, Trevor Helpline: 866-488-7386

Check out this website (TRIGGER WARNING for discussion of suicidal ideation).

Also, check out this awesome link and recording of it, if you’re needing a little hope.

Hold on there!

Three notes that may apply to listeners, friends, providers, or others

ableism, chronic illness, dehumanization, medical system, mental health system, mental illness, PTSD, saneism

TRIGGER WARNING: ableism, saneism, provider dehumanization/disengagement

 

To therapists: I am not a “case.” I am a human being. If I am a “case,” so are you, therapist sir or ma’am or whatever you may want to be called. You are a case of dehumanization. I am a case of humanity. We are not a “population.” We are a community. We are not just our diagnoses, and our diagnoses are more than us; we have our own whole full lives.

To medical providers: I have been living with chronic pain for five years, and a lot of that was malpractice. Even if my prognosis is good, and even though you have not been here for most of that time, sometimes, I don’t want to be cheery. Sometimes, I don’t want to be the easy “patient.” Often, I am not brave at all. Oh no—that word—“patient.” I am a human being, not a “patient,” not another file folder for your office, to be tucked away and locked after each half-hour visit, months apart… I wish much more, if not all, medical care was much more like acupuncture, where, once you adequately explained your perspective on the issue, you lay there and napped while other people fussed over you and actually put their heads together to try to put you together again. Take my problems seriously—and also take me seriously, as a person apart from an equation to solve. I know my own self best, and I want your best brain to help me.

To well-meaning friends and acquaintances who feel the need to diagnose and cure me right away: I may or may not have tried daily kale smoothies, aromatherapy (fragrance sensitive anyway), eating no gluten, exposure therapy, eating no dairy, traditional medicine, somatic experiencing, muscle testing, acupuncture, hiding in my room all day, exercising more, denial, yoga, constant discussion of my problems, tai chi, your grandma’s herbal tea, detoxing, EMDR, eating only broth, eating only cooked fruit, EFT, probiotics, just getting over it, considering the mind-body connection, blaming all my physical problems on my PTSD, blaming my PTSD on my physical problems, and/or meditation. I don’t even have to tell you what I’ve tried, and what was helpful, and what was total hogwash. You know what? Unless you suddenly became the expert on my mind and body, it’s none of your business!