Tag Archives: trans

Molly: Anger and Denial

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The two stages I’m going in and out of are denial and anger.

I keep thinking to myself that Molly is in rehab still and that’s why we can’t talk. It isn’t because she’s dead. It is because phones aren’t allowed in rehab and that’s why. I know I’m lying to myself. But it is easier to think about it this way.

I keep thinking that I can text her or post to her Facebook wall, and that she’ll read it at a later time.

I have sudden realizations that Molly will never come back and it hits me hard.

Anger is a reoccurring emotion. I have anger towards the people she knew. I feel angry because when she passed away, naturally, people were offering their condolences on her Facebook wall.. but they kept misgendering her and using her dead name. They would post pictures of themselves with her, before she had started transitioning. She would not have liked that. She removed all photos from before she transitioned because she didn’t want anyone remembering her as a boy. The dysphoria she experienced was one of the reasons that she abused drugs. I know that if she were still here, she’d try to brush those images off as good memories. But I know that they hurt her.

I am also angry at the people that knew her. I went to a memorial for her a week ago and there were so many people there, acting as if they knew her really well. There were even people that she hated and that they hated her…pretending they were friends. Talking to other people as if they and Molly had good memories together.

her brother had posted on Instagram that he had traveled to the west coast with his family to release Molly’s ashes into the ocean. He also said that he was happy to have met some of the family she made over here. Who was the family? Her old bandmates and housemates. They did not treat her well. They ignored her, trivialized her addiction, and were not there for her. I would be taking her to the hospital, pleading them for someone to come help. None of them did. One of them even said it wasn’t a big deal. And now she is gone, and THEY are being called family????

I am also angry because I’ve been pushed out of the picture and I’m being imagined as being this huge bitch that left Molly in her time of need. And I can understand how you can see it that way… since I left her two months before she died. But I was the ONLY one constantly in her life. Taking care of her and being there for her. Ever since the beginning. I was the one that stayed up with her late at night trying to calm her down. I was the one waking up in the early morning hours, driving for hours to go see her, and then repeating the whole process again. I was the one begging and pleading her to get better. I was the one offering support. I was a constant force in her life. I was the one that knew her the best out of anyone else in the world. She even said once that I knew her better than her mom did.

And so, it really hurts that I’m being portrayed as this sort of demon for leaving her. It doesn’t matter that I was the only one that was constantly there for her. It doesn’t matter that I was the one staying up all night taking care of her. It doesn’t matter that I was the one driving her to doctor visits and to the hospital. No. All that matters is that even though I was there for her for two years, non-stop, it only matters that I wasn’t there for her those last two months.

I left her because I cared about her so much, I was wearing myself down. I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was putting all of my own energy, into her, hoping that she would get better. She never did, and to me, it felt like she wasn’t trying as hard as she could. That is why I left her.

I feel bad because I knew that she was hurting. I knew that she missed me. I blocked her on every single thing so that she wouldn’t be able to contact me. But I was still so very much in love with her. I would check her twitter and tumblr every day, several times a day, just to see if she would say anything about me. She did. At that moment, I felt very angry. Because she was missing me but she still wasn’t trying to get better.

She tried to get my new number two days before she passed away. I hadn’t given my number to any of her friends, and so no one knew it. I blame myself for having not given it to her. I know she needed support. But it wouldn’t have mattered if she had gotten my number anyway. The outcome would have been the same. I had blocked her from my phone as well. The texts and calls would have never reached me.

I blame myself for thinking I could be there for her. But deep down, I know that I would have been pulled back in and would have dug a deeper hole for myself. I know that I would have destroyed myself for her if I hadn’t left.

But knowing that doesn’t help with the anger, and the bitterness, and the sadness. It doesn’t help the guilt. It doesn’t help with the “why are all of her friends moving on with their lives while I’m still so fucking depressed and sad?”

I think that if her friends had been better friends and had been there for her, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way it did. I know it’s pointless to think that way. It is what it is. And there is nothing I can do to change that. But I still just wish everyone had cared just a little bit harder. Or at least pretended that they cared about her like they pretended at her memorial.

I never thought it to be true and I thought it was an exaggeration when they say in movies and in books that everyone pretends to have known you really well after your death. But I experienced it first-hand for Molly. And now I’m left wondering, out of the people I know, who will do this fact same thing? Act like they’re so torn up about my death? Act as if we were best friends and they helped me out with so much? As if we had such good memories together?

I’m angry and I am bitter. These feelings are hard to disperse. I miss her so very much. This isn’t fair.

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Update 

Recap: Jami got out of rehab and went into a sober living center. That lasted about  week until she relapsed. She got a warning. Then, she relapsed again. She went back to rehab. And here we are. 

I have been going back and forth with what I should do with Jami.

I love her so very much.

But I worry about her a lot. And a lot of my time is spent worrying or thinking about her. My mental health suffers because of it. And my therapist is right, is it worth being in a relationship where you are clearly not putting yourself as a priority?

It is worth it to me.

In my mind, Jami had only been abusing badly when I first found out about the inhalants and when I took her to the hospital. I did not know that she had been abusing cough medicine for years prior to this and during this. So in my mind, I think, everything was normal before the inhalants happened.

But it wasn’t. And I think I mean, or relationship was normal before the inhalants happened. But Jami was not ok. 

I will think back to when we first met and first started dating and I’ll start to cry because I will think, God, everything was so good then.

But then I realize. Jami was probably abusing cough medicine then. So was everything ACTUALLY good? Or was I only seeing what I wanted to see?
I think to myself god damn, I could never let go of Jami. I would never in a million years let go of her.

But then I think, we should break up and maybe in time, we will meet again and be right for each other.

But then I think, I would feel so fucking devastated and angry if I ever saw her with anyone else, because deep in my heart I feel that we are still together and I know that I still love her.
So here we are, at the crossroads. Do I let her go, or do I stay?

I always need certainties because I am such an uncertain and indecisive person. But in a world filled with uncertainties, my heart is sure to implode. 
I go back and forth between what if Jami relapses again? But shouldn’t I support her? But Jami should try to be more independent. But shouldn’t I be sympathetic? But I can’t baby sit her all the time. But I love her?
But I love her.

But I love her.

But I love her.

11-month anniversary gush

It was our 11-month anniversary two days ago. I know I am sad very often because of what is going on with jamie.

But I want to take a moment to tell you guys of all of the cool things Jamie does for me.
Jamie is so so so supportive. She is the most supportive person I have ever met and not just towards me, I know that she is just as supportive towards her friends as well. Jamie makes me feel so secure and good. I am always apprehensive to even tell someone I’m depressed, let alone, that I have bipolar disorder. Jamie helps me work through my feelings and she never invalidates any of my feelings. But she will also let me know when she thinks that I’m wrong. I have the tendency to look into things too much and Jamie will tell me, hey, you know, I don’t actually think this is happening, why don’t you take a step back, calm down, and really look at the situation again? Jamie is so so good at being a good friend and girlfriend.
Jamie is also one of the funniest people I know. Just the other day, I was telling her how much I loved being silly with her. In other relationships, if I were to act the way I act with Jamie, my ex’s would have been really weirded out. But Jamie and I are genuinely, like, friends. We aren’t just girlfriends and we aren’t just partners. We are friends. And thats what makes our relationship so good, I think. Because even if I say something really weird or gross, she goes along with it.
I’ll say something like, “i’m pooping, let me poop in your mouth,” and she’ll respond “ok do it i’m ready.”
and I just laugh so so hard. Jamie makes me so happy like that.
Jamie is also the kindest, sweetest girl in the world. She will write me poems and learn songs on the guitar to play for me. She’ll buy me little things that she will think I will like if she’s out getting groceries or something (I got a Hello Kitty from her most recently!!). Sometimes, she even looks up little phrases on google translate just to make me smile. She calls me her “sol y su luna.” Soy su estrellita de suerte. Jamie is so sweet and so selfless. She is so considerate in so many ways.
I’m crying as I’m writing this but I’m also laughing because I’m thinking of how food this relationship is in comparison to all the other ones I’ve had. This is golden. This is heaven.
Jamie and I also have the same morals and that is something that is very important to me. We have our feminism be intersectional and we will talk about such issues very often. We will give each other feedback and what we disagree on and what we agree on and I think that is really one of the things that helps us both grow.
Honestly, I am so deeply, deeply, in love with Jamie. I never thought I would be in this deep. But she has so many traits about her that I just can’t help but to absolutely adore her.
When you get married, they say “for better or for worse.”
Jamie is at her worst, but is trying to get better and I will always stick by her side.
We are not married yet, but the commitment is there. For better or for worse.

anger and resentment.

I wonder, when all is said and done and Jamie is back home from rehab, if we will truly love each other the same?I am feeling an incredible amount of anger towards Jamie today.

So much so, that the weight on my chest grows heavier and heavier. 
How many times did they lie to me? How long had it truly been going on before I had realized it? Why didn’t they ask for help? Why didn’t they trust me? Did I enable them? 
I can feel my heart aching so much so, that I grit my teeth together just to stop myself from screaming.
We will not spend summer together. We will not spend her birthday together. We will not spend our one year anniversary together. 
When will they come home? How much longer will I have to spend before they are well enough to come home? And even then, will they ever really be well? 
I feel so angry and resentful. Will I ever be able to forgive? Will I ever be able to forget? Will I ever be able to let go of these feelings? 
I get overjoyed whenever they call me and it seems that all of my worries drift away. But I can’t bring myself to write them a letter or send them packages. I feel bitter when they tell me of what a good time they’re having and how many friends they’re making. I think, “why are you having such a good time when I’m here crying every night, thinking of how fucked everything is?”
This is the first time I’ve felt even a tiny bit angry towards Jamie and it feels like it has been subconsciously building up, and building up, and building up. Constantly asking myself, “why? Why? Why? Why? Why?”

Dad.

My parents might be getting divorced.My dad has anger issues.

He refuses to go to marriage counseling,
In a way, I guess I understand because in Mexico, mental health is something that is disregarded.

I just wish he wouldn’t see it as something unnecessary. Because he is breaking our family apart.
In many ways, my parents are getting divorced because of the fights that they have that have to do with me. Whether it is my mental health, my schooling, my relationships, how I present myself, etc.

My mom is always the one defending me.
Three weeks ago, my dad got angry at me because I refused to break up with my girlfriend. He was tolerant before but my girlfriend came out as a trans woman, my dad saw the Facebook post, and demanded that I break up with her.

I said no.

He didn’t talk to me for weeks.

Just last week, he gradually began talking to me again and supporting me financially. We were still not really on good terms but we were on “decent” terms, I guess. We didn’t talk much but I would show him something cool and he’d laugh. Or he’d give me money for gas. We would travel in the same vehicle. Things like that. 
Two days ago, he got unreasonably angry with all of my family. It started off because my family goes on vacation each year. We are supposed to go on vacation in two weeks but haven’t decided where. We usually go to Mexico every other year and so we were due. But we don’t have the funds for it so we decided to go other places.

My mom was talking to him about vacations and how next year, we should try to go to Mexico. My dad got defensive and said no. Then, when he finally agreed, my mom said that we would have to go when it is her break from school. My dad said back, “well I’ll just go by myself then.”
That isn’t the way we do things in our family. We always do things together. So of course my mom got angry. And then my dad got angry because he took it as my mom trying to control him. But he was being unfair.
We were on our way shopping so then, he went to a store while we all stayed in the car. He accidentally broke my moms glasses by putting his arm on them.

He said, “WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE THEM THERE? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?”

I said, “dad, the right thing to do is to say sorry. These things can be fixed but you need to say sorry.”

He didn’t respond.
He was bitter the entire time else when we were all shopping. He would walk either faster or slower than the rest of us so he wouldn’t be associated with us.
Finally, towards the end of our trip shopping, we went to the grocery store. My mom bought us all ICEE’s because it was a hot day. My mom had been trying to be nice to my dad all day just so our shopping trip wouldn’t be ruined. 

So she got an ICEE for my dad too.
I was walking to the car, four ICEE’s in my arms. My dad was sulking in the drivers seat. I managed to open the passenger seat and I said, here dad we got you one.

He said, I don’t want it.

I asked, ok but can you at least grab it, they’re falling out of my arms

He responded with I SAID I DONT WANT IT, WHAT PART OF THAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND.
So I reached over, and put the two ICEE’s in each drink container. And he said WHAT DID I JUST SAY.

I responded with, “who said it was for you!!”

We then all got into the car, and just before he started up the car against he suddenly turned back to me, pointed his finger at me and yelled, “if you ever respond to me like that I will hit you.”
I cried and bawled and said through sobs “I only wanted you to hold it [the icee].”

My brother and mom started telling him that was not ok.

My mom said, “if you even lay a finger on her, you’ll see what happens.”

My dad responded, “oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

She responded with, “I will call the police.”
Silence the ride back home.
When my dad told me three weeks ago that I meant nothing to him, I guess he was right, and those words are still ringing in my ears.
But I can’t help but wonder, why is he being like this? Everything was fine before I left for college last September. It just seems so sudden. I mean, my parents and I got in fights but it never lasted weeks like it has been recently. They were usually over within a week. 
It saddens me. Because I know my parents are going to get divorced. But since my dad and I aren’t on good terms, when would I ever visit him?

So many questions racing through my mind. So many feelings that my heart can’t stand. 

My girlfriend is in the hospital

My girlfriend abused inhalants (compressed air) and it was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.

They are currently in the hospital. The nurses and doctors suspect that she is still coming off of the drugs because she is responding very slowly. 

I’m scared that brain damage was done.
She is one of the best people in my life and it breaks my heart and tears me apart to see her go through this. So many questions go through my mind: what could I have done to help? What could I have done differently? Why did she do this? Why didn’t she reach out for help? Why didn’t she just confide in me?
I feel so heartbroken.

We are in Oregon and her parents are in New York. I have been in contact with them and her mom is thinking of flying out here and taking her back to New York if they can’t function by themselves.

I feel so fucking depressed. We were supposed to move in together soon. We were supposed to get married someday. We were supposed to have a corgi and kids together someday.
I’m being ripped apart bit by bit. 

When You Don’t Matter

It has been a couple of weeks since my parents found out, through seeing a post on Facebook, that Jamie is transitioning.

My mom talked to me about it immediately. My dad talked to me about it just now.
Both of my parents are very homophobic and in the past, when they even found out that Jamie was queer (they just knew about her, not me), they stopped talked to me for maybe two weeks, the first day being my birthday.
That was with just finding out that the person I am dating is queer. They didn’t even know about me.
I had told my mom that I had planned to hang out with Jamie tomorrow. My dad butted in. This is how the conversation with.
Him: Now that you brought that up, we are going to discuss this straight-forward. What is Jamie to you?
Me: Well we are dating, you know that
Him: No I mean what is Jamie. Is he a man or a woman or what?
Me: Jamie is a girl
Him: and what are you?
Me: a girl
Him: So what are you doing with her. That is wrong
Me: because I like them
Him: Yeah but that’s wrong and you’re not going to date them
Me: Ok, well, that isn’t your decision to make so I’m going to keep dating them
Him: so you’re just going to do whatever you want then? Fine, but don’t expect to count as anything towards me
So there it is.
I don’t count as anything towards my dad. And I know he means it because he has been sitting on this for weeks now.
So that’s that and I can’t stop crying and I have such a horrible feeling inside of me.

What if feels like to be dating a trans person

Or, what it feels for me to be dating a trans person.

My partner is perfect. It seems like out of all the people in the world, they are the one specifically for me. And all of the weird coincidences and thins you can relate to about one another always makes me feel even more sure.
But my homophobic parents will never accept my partner, and it makes me so sad.
I want a wedding and my partner wants a wedding. And I know my parents wouldn’t attend. They don’t even want to meet my partner.
It’s been six fucking months and you would think that they would say, “oh my daughter has someone that she loves and someone that loves her. Maybe I should meet them!”
But it doesn’t work that way.
It doesn’t work that way.
But I wish so deeply that it would.