ManicPanic2018
Night of the final day
- Sep 11, 2022
- 182
I wrote this a few hours ago. I feel like sharing it will help it make me feel a bit more real about my plans for tomorrow. And I've had a lot of people speak to me recently wanting to know about my life and experiences, so here's something from the heart for anyone who may be interested in me as a person. Maybe it will help someone figure something out too. Who knows.
Also, this is not my goodbye thread. That will be tomorrow night. Also mods, I know there's a creative writing thread now but this feels a bit different to fit into that category. I hope it's ok if it stays here. Thankyou <3
______________________________________________________________________________
To anyone who once knew me, and especially to all of my close friends I couldn't find the time to write to individually, I am so sorry. Since the group of people I keep close to me is relatively small, I wish I could write to you all about how much you mean to me, how good you have been to me over the years, how much you have helped me along my journey, or maybe even just to share a joke with you one final time. But I am writing this with 24 hours to live with many letters to write and final preparations still to carry out. But I regret to inform you that on the morning of Monday October 3rd 2022, I will be attempting, and if you are reading this, will have been successful in taking my own life.
Many of you will have known my struggles with mental health, being trans and the suicidal ideation has effectively been a part of my personality over the years. I have been knocked down many times, sometimes dived down head first out of self pity, but always stood back up. After many years of aimless wandering, trying to hide from my problems while trying to find a reason to live, I finally got my life together to a point where I felt like I had found what I had been searching for all this time: A normal life.
It took me a long while to get there, but with the support of many of you, even at times when I really didn't deserve to have you as a friend. Covid for me was a blessing in disguise, an opportunity for me to spend a year and give it my all to get out of the pit I felt like I would be stuck in until I died. I told myself I had a choice: Learn this new skill that had been introduced to me by someone and use it to turn my life around, or it would be proof that the pit I was in was insurmountable, and should therefore take my own life.
So in January of 2020 I started studying how to become a software developer, and after a year of working harder on anything than I ever had before, landed a coding job on my first ever interview in January 2021. I moved into a flat with my beautiful partner, and could finally start leaving the disaster that was my past life behind me. Making it out of the pit I was in was one of my greatest ever accomplishments, and I will always be so proud of how I managed to turn my life around in such a way, and in such a short amound of time.
Unfortunately, there was one part of my old life that followed me for years and never let go of me. What I once believed to be my redemption, my Gender Reassignment Surgery in 2018, has become the reason why I am writing to you today.
Before I go into further detail, I must say to you straight away that this reasoning was not because of regret over thinking it was the wrong decision regarding my gender identity. I am, and will always be a trans woman. Instead the actions of a surgeon have left me feeling disfigured, mutilated and unable to enjoy a part of my life that I was hoping would be my redemption.
In the bluntest of terms, I am unable to have a functional sex life. I recieve virtually no pleasure from sex, partners struggle to accomodate with the issues I have, and despite them trying their absolutely hardest to make me feel good, leave me feeling hollow in the fact that I cannot feel a single positive thing in recieving pleasure. Having dreamed of being able to have the sex life of a normal woman for all my life, and to have that taken away from me just as I thought I had earned it, has simply destroyed my soul.
I struggled enough with my situation as it was. Being a 6ft6 trans woman, the stares of the public everywhere I went was something that has never stopped eating away at me. The desire to just feel small and delicate was something I accepted early that I could never have, but never stopped hurting. But having my ability to be intimate with another human stolen from me from a failed gamble on surgery, has become too much to want to live with. I refuse to accept a life of compromises and appeasments for a life I worked so hard for.
Despite all of this, I am not in the slightest bit upset knowing that I am about to die. In fact, I welcome it with open arms. There will be many people I will miss, particularly my incredible family who have stuck by me through the toughest of times despite me not deserving them.
But my death will be a peaceful one, going out on my own terms with a method that's the closest thing you could get to being at a death clinic. I have spent my final 2 weeks not at work, doing nothing but enjoying my final moments. I have watched my favourite movies, eaten my favourite foods, spent time with my wonderful family and enjoyed my final moments with friends, bought anything I want given that money holds no meaning to me now, and enjoyed every moment of it. Sure, I get a bit scared at times, and writing these letters has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do as well.
But at 2am on Monday morning, I will lay in the comfiest bed I have ever had, in a flat that I worked so hard to achieve, with beautiful coloured lights, and drink a solution that will make me unconscious within 20 minutes, and dead within a few hours. My death will be calm and beautiful. I will finally be free of this body, of my hatred and anger towards my situation which has plagued me for so long. I will be returning to the universe where I belong, and finally be going home.
Do not feel sad for me when I am gone. Know that I fought like hell to get to this point, but decided that now is my time to rest.
To anyone else who is struggling in this world, the advice I give to you is this. You get knocked down 7 times, you stand back up 8. If life knocks you on your arse, you stand back up, brush yourself down and reply to life "You hit like a bitch".
Do it for me. Keep fucking fighting. And to all you degenerates out there, go have the intimacy with another human that I could never have. Nearly all the sex I had was giving pleasure to someone else, and that level of intimacy with another human, that connection with someone you love, is what being a human is really about. Go out and find someone, love them, hold them tight and don't you dare let go.
I send you all my love in my final moments, and if you ever need me, I'll be out there listening. All you've got to do is look up at the stars and say my name, and I will be there to hear you.
Be good to one another, and don't settle. Fight for whatever it is you want in life, and don't fucking stop no matter what.
Also, this is not my goodbye thread. That will be tomorrow night. Also mods, I know there's a creative writing thread now but this feels a bit different to fit into that category. I hope it's ok if it stays here. Thankyou <3
______________________________________________________________________________
To anyone who once knew me, and especially to all of my close friends I couldn't find the time to write to individually, I am so sorry. Since the group of people I keep close to me is relatively small, I wish I could write to you all about how much you mean to me, how good you have been to me over the years, how much you have helped me along my journey, or maybe even just to share a joke with you one final time. But I am writing this with 24 hours to live with many letters to write and final preparations still to carry out. But I regret to inform you that on the morning of Monday October 3rd 2022, I will be attempting, and if you are reading this, will have been successful in taking my own life.
Many of you will have known my struggles with mental health, being trans and the suicidal ideation has effectively been a part of my personality over the years. I have been knocked down many times, sometimes dived down head first out of self pity, but always stood back up. After many years of aimless wandering, trying to hide from my problems while trying to find a reason to live, I finally got my life together to a point where I felt like I had found what I had been searching for all this time: A normal life.
It took me a long while to get there, but with the support of many of you, even at times when I really didn't deserve to have you as a friend. Covid for me was a blessing in disguise, an opportunity for me to spend a year and give it my all to get out of the pit I felt like I would be stuck in until I died. I told myself I had a choice: Learn this new skill that had been introduced to me by someone and use it to turn my life around, or it would be proof that the pit I was in was insurmountable, and should therefore take my own life.
So in January of 2020 I started studying how to become a software developer, and after a year of working harder on anything than I ever had before, landed a coding job on my first ever interview in January 2021. I moved into a flat with my beautiful partner, and could finally start leaving the disaster that was my past life behind me. Making it out of the pit I was in was one of my greatest ever accomplishments, and I will always be so proud of how I managed to turn my life around in such a way, and in such a short amound of time.
Unfortunately, there was one part of my old life that followed me for years and never let go of me. What I once believed to be my redemption, my Gender Reassignment Surgery in 2018, has become the reason why I am writing to you today.
Before I go into further detail, I must say to you straight away that this reasoning was not because of regret over thinking it was the wrong decision regarding my gender identity. I am, and will always be a trans woman. Instead the actions of a surgeon have left me feeling disfigured, mutilated and unable to enjoy a part of my life that I was hoping would be my redemption.
In the bluntest of terms, I am unable to have a functional sex life. I recieve virtually no pleasure from sex, partners struggle to accomodate with the issues I have, and despite them trying their absolutely hardest to make me feel good, leave me feeling hollow in the fact that I cannot feel a single positive thing in recieving pleasure. Having dreamed of being able to have the sex life of a normal woman for all my life, and to have that taken away from me just as I thought I had earned it, has simply destroyed my soul.
I struggled enough with my situation as it was. Being a 6ft6 trans woman, the stares of the public everywhere I went was something that has never stopped eating away at me. The desire to just feel small and delicate was something I accepted early that I could never have, but never stopped hurting. But having my ability to be intimate with another human stolen from me from a failed gamble on surgery, has become too much to want to live with. I refuse to accept a life of compromises and appeasments for a life I worked so hard for.
Despite all of this, I am not in the slightest bit upset knowing that I am about to die. In fact, I welcome it with open arms. There will be many people I will miss, particularly my incredible family who have stuck by me through the toughest of times despite me not deserving them.
But my death will be a peaceful one, going out on my own terms with a method that's the closest thing you could get to being at a death clinic. I have spent my final 2 weeks not at work, doing nothing but enjoying my final moments. I have watched my favourite movies, eaten my favourite foods, spent time with my wonderful family and enjoyed my final moments with friends, bought anything I want given that money holds no meaning to me now, and enjoyed every moment of it. Sure, I get a bit scared at times, and writing these letters has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do as well.
But at 2am on Monday morning, I will lay in the comfiest bed I have ever had, in a flat that I worked so hard to achieve, with beautiful coloured lights, and drink a solution that will make me unconscious within 20 minutes, and dead within a few hours. My death will be calm and beautiful. I will finally be free of this body, of my hatred and anger towards my situation which has plagued me for so long. I will be returning to the universe where I belong, and finally be going home.
Do not feel sad for me when I am gone. Know that I fought like hell to get to this point, but decided that now is my time to rest.
To anyone else who is struggling in this world, the advice I give to you is this. You get knocked down 7 times, you stand back up 8. If life knocks you on your arse, you stand back up, brush yourself down and reply to life "You hit like a bitch".
Do it for me. Keep fucking fighting. And to all you degenerates out there, go have the intimacy with another human that I could never have. Nearly all the sex I had was giving pleasure to someone else, and that level of intimacy with another human, that connection with someone you love, is what being a human is really about. Go out and find someone, love them, hold them tight and don't you dare let go.
I send you all my love in my final moments, and if you ever need me, I'll be out there listening. All you've got to do is look up at the stars and say my name, and I will be there to hear you.
Be good to one another, and don't settle. Fight for whatever it is you want in life, and don't fucking stop no matter what.
I wish I had gotten to know you sooner, but I thoroughly enjoy what we have now! I'm here for you, whenever you need ♡
