The topic of this entry is Suicide. It s not necessary to read this post to know me, or know what I’m going through. Please read at your discretion.
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Suicide. Not a nice topic to go over, but one that I think needs to be addressed, especially if other trans identified people find their way to this blog.
Suicide has affected my life 4 times. I will start with my own battle first.
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I don’t recall exactly what age I was – but it was either 22 or 23. Emotionally I had finally reached my breaking point. To this day, I vividly remember kneeling in the kitchen, holding an exacto knife pressed into the skin of my right wrist, ready to slice from hand to forearm. I was crying uncontrollably, and no one else was home (depending on which age it was, either my Dad or roommate was out).
The day before, I had thrown out all my girls’ clothes (probably the 4th time I’d done that, at this point) swearing I’d never wear girls’ clothes again. When you deny who you really are, even to yourself, the amount of shame and guilt that builds up, when some part of you tries so hard to be yourself, can become unbearable. That was this day. I was so conflicted, wanting to be a girl on one hand, and not wanting to want to be a girl on the other.
While I was kneeling on the floor, I imagined everyone I loved, and how hurt they would be if I was gone. I absolutely HATE causing people hurt, whether directly or indirectly. It is not in my nature. I did not want to end my pain by causing pain in others. I couldn’t do it. I put the knife away, put a bandaid on the small cut I’d actually given myself, and for the umpteenth time, cried myself to sleep, never to speak of it, until many years later.
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The second most impactful suicide event in my life, was one of my best friends. This one is also the one that still bothers me the most. Several years ago, he took his life. Did what I could not do. It was not a cry for help, the way he did it. We all missed the cry for help. In doing so, he hurt a lot of friends and family. The amount of pain he was feeling must have been so great, because I know he didn’t want to hurt everyone. I have very mixed emotions on this. Anger, guilt, loss. Time hasn’t really eased any of them, but then I wasn’t prepared to deal with it. I was still internalizing stuff.
Guilt is a hard one to get over. It’s always been my belief that only we can make ourselves feel guilty. It’s not something that can be given to us, as much as some people like to try. I had known this friend was having a rough time, and I had meant to call him. I never got to make that call, and I had been putting it off. Rationally, I can see that the chances of that call making a lick of difference is practically zero. But guilt is not rational. Not one bit.
I’m angry because I didn’t get to make that call. He didn’t give me his deadline. I’m angry because I no longer have the most supportive male friend I ever had. I’m angry at what he did to his children, and his widow. I’m angry at how, even now, he makes me cry and hurt so much.
The loss is probably the easiest to get over. The feeling of loss will never go away, but it doesn’t involve any great process. He’s gone. His memory isn’t. His influence isn’t. His love isn’t.
Most recently, I’ve had a hockey friend commit suicide. I don’t know much of the details, and frankly I don’t want to know. It saddened me a great deal to know someone else was in so much pain, that feeling nothing was better than feeling anything.
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I cannot fathom anymore, how I got to the point where I had a knife at my wrist. It’s such a foreign concept to me now. I would rather feel, than to not feel. It’s as simple as that for me. Yet, it is something the trans community (and the LGBT community as a whole too) is way too familiar with.
Denying who you are is detrimental to your mental health. It erodes, and decays, until you’re just left with pain. Fearing rejection, bullying, and violence are all valid fears. They shouldn’t be. They should be irrational fears. Our society is too tied up in what we think of other people, or how we think other people regard us. If who somebody is, what they do, or how they live their life doesn’t cause you harm – why should you care? Why should you not support them in just being happy?
Love you all,
Jess